The knitting project is still underway. Digby Green is plotting
The knitting project is still underway. Digby Green is plotting.
Knitting project on a deadline.
Knitting project on a deadline. I’m fine, but I have a knitting project on a deadline for my first great niece. That’s why there wasn’t a Digby episode last week. Very likely there won’t be a Digby post this week either. The afghan is currently one foot deep, two feet, eight inches to go.
The Gardens of Digby Green: Splotch
The Gardens of Digby Green: Splotch Before the traffic light turned green, Ray tore open one of the bags of chips. The warm interior soon intensified the mingling scents of an Italian meatball sub, and genuine Texas BBQ potato chips. Rose would have gagged. Ray sighed. “I’ll air the car out, sweetheart. I promise.
The Gardens of Digby Green: Pit Stop
The Gardens of Digby Green: Pit Stop Off the toll road, and nearing the farther outskirts of Gary, Green slowed and pulled into the only open pump at a gas station. Ray checked the Imperial’s gauges. She could use a tank full, too, but if he used the same station as Green, he’d lose
The Gardens of Digby Green: Lead Foot
The Gardens of Digby Green: Lead Foot When Green left the restaurant lot, he turned in the direction that would bring him to the Interstate 80 on-ramp. Ray ignored the last swallow of coffee in his paper cup, and pressed the Chrysler’s accelerator. He let two other drivers exit ahead of him, but he
The Gardens of Digby Green: B.O.L.
The Gardens of Digby Green: B.O.L. The pesky phone would ring as he was in the middle of typing a report. Marquez checked the screen. Jessup, in Alabama. Marquez chose to answer, rather than needing to listen to voice mail later. “The other day, you asked about a set of Alabama plates,”Jessup said, “and
The Gardens of Digby Green: Burger Joint
The Gardens of Digby Green: Burger Joint If staying behind that truck by a vehicle or two worked as well as it did on television shows, he’d be safe enough. Traffic wasn’t too heavy, and Ray kept an eye on the green pickup. Maybe he should have driven his less conspicuous car. No, he
The Gardens of Digby Green: In Sight
The Gardens of Digby Green: In Sight In his current cabin at the out-of-date motel where he paid its weekly rate in cash, Digby Green stuffed his clothes into a sports bag and one backpack. The fistfight with Tim had been a mistake. It didn’t matter at all that any word spreading about it
The Gardens of Digby Green: Jessup’s Number
The Gardens of Digby Green: Jessup’s Number When Detective Marquez’s phone emitted the obnoxious noise he’d chosen as a voice mail alert, he thumbed the screen. Sheriff Jessup in Alabama. Marquez put the phone on speaker, and made a right turn, merging into traffic. “We found a body. Female, aged somewhere between forty and seventy.
The Gardens of Digby Green: Alabama Plates
The Gardens of Digby Green: Alabama Plates Most nights, the funeral replayed itself nightmarishly in Ray’s dreams. He’d accessed his deputy’s autopsy report on Rose, and shuddered in disgust at what had been done to his beloved. Ray couldn’t decide whether the extended leave they’d made him accept was compassionate, or not. When the