“But that little voice in my head and that gut feeling the FBI advised me to discount . . . were clamoring for attention. I had nothing else to do but fret about Mason, or count the hours until Lex was dismissed from school. Or I could find a quiet corner in Stillwell’s and drink. Nah. I drove past Sheldon’s slowly, staking out the place, but with no traffic, it really didn’t matter who saw what I was doing. Thirty yards from the turnoff was a steel gate. The front entrance was secur...ed with a heavy chain and a lock. Talk about overkill. Usually, a security system around here was a neon sign to robbers. We have something of worth that needs protection, please rob us. What valuables did Sheldon have that required such security measures? Then I remembered he lived with an elderly uncle. If the man suffered from Alzheimer’s, then I understood the need for extra precautions.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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