“Addy followed him outside, her ever-constant Dalvahni shadow at her heels. “I gotta call this in. The mayor needs to be notified. And the town council,” he said. The chief’s face was bright red. Addy had looked like that once after a day at the beach. But, the chief wasn’t sunburned. Nope, the chief was about to blow a gasket. “How the hell did somebody move this thing all the way from downtown?” he fumed. “It ’ud take a forklift to move the son-of-a-bitch. Don’t matter. If I find out who did t...his, I’m gonna bury ’em under the jail. Stealing a corpse is one thing, but this here is desecration of a war hero. It’s like shooting the pope a bird. These suckers have crossed the line.” “Who shot the pope a bird?” Muddy stepped out onto the porch. She gave a startled yelp when she saw Old Jeb. “Why is there a decapitated Civil War hero sitting in my yard?” “Spanish-American war hero, Muddy,” Addy said. “Jeb was a Rough Rider, remember? Saved Behr County from the pernicious boll weevil by convincing local farmers to stop planting cotton and go nuts.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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