“Fucking government stooge. Charging off to save the world while better people stayed home, trapped in their miserable little jobs. Couldn’t keep him down on the farm. Not Brad Blue. No matter how loud Wade Whitlaw yelled, Brad Blue was his precious fair-haired boy. A Whitlaw, no matter what fake name his commie father gave him. Not that Whitlaws had all the influence. He’d heard about the cross almost as soon as the sheriff. If you knew the right people, it was a very small county. They said Bl...ue’s little bitch tripped over it. Mom’s cross. It should have stayed there, right where it was. They’d moved Mom, the fucking bastards, but the cross should have stayed. They also said that dumb mutt Burt must have dragged it off. Burt. What kind of a name was that for a dog? They never should have found it. Now every poor bastard who couldn’t produce a living mother was a suspect. Well . . . maybe it wasn’t so bad after all. There were lots of men without mothers. Including himself.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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