Chapter 15

He still had one possibility left—something neither the sheriff nor that devious old hag knew about. The cash offer to buy his property that had arrived in the mail yesterday. Not a very good offer, but what the hell? The house was run down and the land was mostly swamp. He’d hoped to keep his inheritance—a foolish, sentimental wish to preserve a link with his father. But now that wasn’t possible. So he’d accept the offer. And he would use the cash to hire a lawyer who’d rip holes in their stupid tee shirt case. With enough money there’d be a chance he could get out of this. And out of this backwater town.

Folding his hands behind his head, he took a deep breath and realized he stunk of dirt and sweat and fear. He went over to the sink and splashed water on his face and arms, sluicing off the dust from the yard work. He cupped his hands and drank deeply.

And remembered.