The Letter Had This Week’s Postmark

steering wheel.

A horn blared somewhere behind us. The light had changed.

“Where are the cards now?” I asked.

“In a fire safe in my hall closet.”

“Don’t touch them.”

“Dan.”

“What?”

“Don’t let the girls go to that church alone.”

Friday Came Anyway

I spent Thursday doing what I should’ve done fourteen years earlier.

I asked ugly questions.

At the sheriff’s office,continue reading …