I remember the first time I realized who Katy King’s uncle was.
We were having breakfast in one of Portland’s many great breakfast joints. The Princess Consort laughed and said something like, “Oh, Uncle Mike…. He’s annoying the FBI again.”
About 20 minutes later, the rancid tapioca that is my brain stirred. “Sweetie? Is there any chance your ‘Uncle Mike’ is Gar King?”
Gar M. King. As in the senior federal judge for the Northwest. As in the guy who, during the Bush II administration, kept flipping off John Ashcroft. That was “Uncle Mike.”
Now he’s handed the case of Mohamed Osam Mohamud, the kid who allegedly tried to blow us all up at the Christmas tree lighting in Pioneer Courthouse Square.
It’s really annoying when I try to invent fictional characters and Katy’s family includes people so much more interesting than my characters. That’s just wrong.