Reporter Jack McMorrow, soon to be a dad, confronts another dad who may be a murderer.
It all starts innocuously, if violently, when McMorrow breaks up a street fight on behalf of an overmatched kid who’s 14, skinny, and bookish, a natural victim for the gang of predatory contemporaries who’ve nicknamed him Rocky in obvious mockery. Rocky’s a runaway, of course. McMorrow, formerly of the New York Times but now self-exiled to the copy desk of the Bangor (Maine) Clarion, has lots of reasons to steer clear of Rocky’s turbulent life, especially his wife Roxanne’s advanced pregnancy and craving for quiet. But McMorrow, despite good intentions, has all the instinct for trouble of the best reporters. Beyond that, there’s the special appeal of Rocky, a boy in extreme circumstances reaching out subconsciously for the help he pretends not to need. Rocky knows a secret about the mother he adores and the father he hates. Rusty Clement, a natural bully who terrifies his son, tries so hard to do the same that McMorrow the veteran newshound can smell the desperation. It’s all about the secret Clement has long kept buried and his sense of McMorrow as a man to whom secrets are golden.
Complex characters and strong storytelling remain staples of this sturdy, worthwhile series (Borderline, 1998, etc.).