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This is from the book "Polar" by T.R. Pearson. I just started it, but it seems pretty good so far.
...Ray had hit town, after all, along about when Larry was flaunting his tactlessness. One of those planer mill Caudles had slipped from his bass boat and drowned in the reservoir, and Larry had gotten dispatched to pass the news to his brother who he'd found trimming limbs in his yard.
Now the brother, it seems, was piling the unsacked limbs down by the curbing which violated an ordinance that Larry straitaway acquanted that Caudle with. That Caudle thought the provision a sorry blight on his civic liberties, and he made his opinion known to Larry in a free and salty fashion which served to Prompt Larry to write that Caudle up.
In fact, Larry was ripping that Caudle's citation out of his ticket book when he remembered why he'd stopped by in the first place, and he was shoving the thing, by all accounts, at that Caudle as he spoke.
"Elvin come out of his boat somehow."
"Is he all right?"
"No. He's dead."
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