Mr. Grayson stood beside her. Mrs. Perez hovered near her mailbox, twisting her fingers together and watching the driveway.
A county cruiser sat crooked near the curb. Two uniformed officers stood by the gate, one younger, one older with deep lines around his mouth. The younger one did the talking.
Dad walked down the porch steps in his work boots and flannel shirt.
Mrs. Donnelly lifted her phone higher. “Tell them what you’ve been doing in that garage, Walter.”
Dad didn’t look at her. “Morning to you, too, Mrs. Donnelly.”
“Tell them what you’ve been doing in that garage, Walter.
Grayson muttered, “Don’t charm your way out of it, Walter. Admit it.”
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