The Letter Had This Week’s Postmark

cart when he saw me.

“Dan? You all right?”

“No,” I said. “I need to know who is in that grave.”

He stared. Then his face did the thing faces do when they start preparing to be part of a mess.

By eight-thirty I was in the office with the cemetery manager and a county clerk on speaker, using words I’d never thought I’d say in my life.

Exhumation.

Verification.continue reading …