Cold Slice

I want to tell you a story. It's about friends, hard work, good love, bad love, and murder. My name's Terry Saltz.

Here's me: Six-five. Twenty-six. Smart-ass. Long black hair tied back with a leather shoelace. Plaid flannel shirt with the elbows blown out. I'm a carpenter. I like to build things. I don't claim to be a writer. But I'm thinking, how hard can it be?

It started like this. I got wasted in a bar one night, trashed the place, and went to jail. As a result I lost my job, my wife, my truck, and my mobile home. Losing that truck was the part that hurt the most.

When I got out, I figured I had to start again at the beginning. I walked into Carlo's Pizza and got hired as a night delivery driver. Not only was I relieved to be back on someone's payroll, but I was making new friends and having more fun than I expected...until one of the other drivers turned up dead. The cops got nowhere fast, so me and my new buddies decided it was time to go looking for the murderer.