“Mr. Moon hadn’t sounded too pleased to hear from him, but he’d agreed to meet Emory to talk. Emory would be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous. But he figured Shelby’s dad wouldn’t maim him in the parking lot of the church. At least the rain had held off. The skies continued to rol and pitch, and thunder reverberated against the mountains that contained Sweetness in a lush, green bowl. He heard Mr. Moon’s truck before he saw it, the engine racing a little too high. The man pul ed in next to Emo...ry’s vehicle. He climbed out, then yanked up his work pants, slammed the truck door, and stomped toward Emory. Emory noticed Walter had left the engine running—a sign he didn’t plan on staying long. And the big man wasn’t sporting a cordial expression. Emory stuck out his hand. “Good to see you, Mr. Moon.” The other man shook his hand with bone-crushing strength. “Emory. I see you haven’t been shot yet.” Emory’s gaze strayed to the rifle on the gun rack in the rear window of Mr.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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