David’s POV

“You see his car at the Morningstar Motel? License plate—”

“BP 8953.” I lowered my binoculars, fiddling with the emergency walkie my dad gave me. “Yeah, I see it, Mr. Jeffries. What’s he here for?”

“Checkin’ on Earl.” There was the distinct groan of old leather cracking under Deputy Jeffries’ weight. “He’s been having a…crisis of faith what with the highway getting diverted away from his ...