September 4, 2025

THE HAMMER FILES: Old Debts Payment Due

Jack Hammer04 mins
Grayscale, gritty image of a noir detective in "Old Town" looking at a ghostly apparition of a woman and child on a rainy street, conveying regret and loss. Grayscale, gritty image of a noir detective in "Old Town" looking at a ghostly apparition of a woman and child on a rainy street, conveying regret and loss.
This entry is part 2 of 11 in the series Chapter 2: An Inheritance of Grief

Thursday, Erma, Past Due

The day had a fog of smog and dust as I waited on the corner. The cab was a rusted-out Ford filled with the scent of stale air and cheap vinyl. I gave the address to the driver, a kid with too many tattoos and too little regard for the road. The street names were a roll call of forgotten promises—Sampson, Union, Mill. Each turn was another step back in time. Old Town was a rat trap, a place most people either died trying to escape or just died in. Erma and Angela were part of the lucky few who got out. But I knew Alison hadn’t.

She was Erma’s sister, a sour, sharp-tongued woman who hated me more than a politician hates the truth. I could still hear her spitting venom about Angela’s “thug boyfriend.” I wondered why Erma would choose to meet at a house where I wasn’t welcome, but the answer came easy. The others were gone. Died or moved away. Alison was all that was left of the Bennett family in Old Town. And now, I was coming back to her.

A Ghost in the Glass

The city lights were a smear through the dirty, rain-streaked window. I stared at my reflection, seeing a man who looked older than he felt. He had run from this place once, but a part of him never left. That part was a scared kid with a crush on a girl three years his senior. Angela. She was the one good thing to happen to me in this hell, a bright spot in a world of grays and shadows. My “summer of love” with her was a beautiful lie, a dream that shattered the moment the cops put me away.

I knew why Erma was calling now, and I knew what she was going to tell me. The gut feeling I’d had for so long, the one I’d shoved down with whiskey and work, was screaming at me. The girl who died to save my life, the one I’d just lost… she was Angela’s daughter. My daughter. My hands tightened into fists, the knuckles white. The old debts were finally coming due, with a heartbreaking interest rate. The cab pulled to a stop. The journey to the past was over. Now, the reckoning began.

Series Navigation<< An Inheritance of GriefTHE HAMMER FILES: The Doorstep >>

Chapter 2: An Inheritance of Grief

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