Chapter Twenty

            Lee Finch stared at the screen of the coffee shop’s television set and stirred his iced coffee with short, sporadic stabs. His sneering mouth curled even more as he watched Dr.. Jamison explaining to the camera about how the death of Darcy Tucker was most likely caused by blunt force trauma and not a gun shot for what had to be the fifteenth time.

Chapter nineteen

       “What do you mean that the evidence is inconclusive?” David found himself practically yelling into Dr. Jamison’s face, his eyes wide and disbelieving.

Chapter Eighteen

“Go for a walk, Billy.” David scowled through the sea of young hipsters who were standing in line for their coffees. It had taken him all morning to convince Rosie over the phone to meet with him, and even though she had finally agreed, he was almost certain that she wasn’t going to be there.

A Cold Night Somewhere Else...

 

       Even though it was the dead of winter, a small tent revival had come to the sleepy town of Louisburg, Ohio, and despite gusting winds and long nights, it had gathered a small and devout crowd. The large canvas monster that the traveling group had pitched had sat silently for three long days before opening its doors on the dusk of third night, inviting people inside with the promise of portable heaters and warm drinks to enjoy whilst their souls were being cleansed.

Chapter Seventeen

        David hated prisons; they smelled like bad sneakers on a humid day, which was certainly, the product of too many people crowded into a tight space with poor air circulation. A murmur started at one end of the prison and rose in volume as David moved through the central corridor. Many of the prison’s residents were incarcerated because of One Week Window and David was the face they could blame.

Isn't it obvious?