The Kamchtka Incident
I don’t actually know anyone in law enforcement — at least not the kind who chase fugitives across state lines or interrogate suspects under flickering fluorescent lights. But I do work in a building with its own police department, because the North Carolina General Assembly apparently needs officers to handle everything from legislative chaos to… stolen garage tags. Which brings me to Police Officer C.H. Today, C.H. helped me sort out a mysteriously vanished garage tag — the kind of crime that won’t make the evening news but absolutely derails your morning. After he rescued me from my parking‑lot purgatory around the corner — that’s when I thought: Well… he’s a cop. So why not give him a copy of my book? If anyone can appreciate a crime‑thriller, it’s the guy who just solved my very small, very bureaucratic mystery. CH gave me a slight smile — the kind cops give when they’re politely processing the fact that you just said writer, “woolly mammoths” and Pleistocene, and Sabertooth tiger...
