Chapter Three: Night ApproachesSheriff Clayton Harris drove into his driveway and parked behind the Ford Thunderbird '57 his seventeen-year-old son, Jonathan, had been busy restoring for the past six months. The car's rear end was partially protruding from the garage, which meant Jonathan had probably been tinkering with the engine all day long.
Clay sat behind the cruiser's steering wheel, feeling rather dejected due to the events of the afternoon. Today, he had practically wrecked the last traces of normalcy that may have existed in Harold Callahan's life, merely because he had to comply with the requirements of his sheriff's duty. Life wasn't fair.
He stared into the overhead rearview mirror and saw the Vault of Horror #26 issue, still in its protective bag, lying on the cruiser's bac
