I Returned a Lost Wallet from a Mechanic’s ShopThe Next Morning, a Sheriff Was Standing at My Door

light, studying me with an expression I could not read.

My mother appeared behind me. Her hand went to her mouth.

“Evan?” the sheriff asked.

“Yeah. That’s me.”

My heart was already moving fast. “Did I do something wrong?”

“Can I come inside?”

I stepped back. He came into the living room and turned to face me. He was maybe forty, broad shouldered, the kind continue reading …