CHAPTER EIGHT
TODD BEARD LIVED IN a tidy but poor part of the city, the plain, eight hundred square foot houses mostly well-kept and the tiny yards uncluttered. Kids played soccer in the street since there wasn’t much traffic and the yards were too small, many of them closed off with picket fences. As Percy drove slowly down the street, a sweet-faced little girl with a messy blonde ponytail hurried to pick up the ball and move to the sidewalk.
She watched them pass by, lifting a hand to wave.
Percy waved back. His heart breaking for the eleven-year-old girl who could no longer play soccer in the street because a sick bastard had taken her childhood along with her life. He understood how Beard had been falsely accused. It would be an easy mistake to make.
A neighbor who was just enough
