CHAPTER EIGHT
The eyes of Mr. and Mrs. Lester drilled into Ashley as she crossed the threshold of their modest home. Although the couple had agreed to speak with her, she knew they were still suspicious. Ashley had grown up on the mountain and she understood the locals’ ways, but she was also working with the TBI. And in Laurel County, the police were often thought of as the enemy.
Flora Lee motioned toward the cinnamon-brown upholstered sofa pushed against the far wall of the small living room.
“Have yourself a seat,” she said, as she settled onto the adjacent wooden rocking chair.
“Thank you.”
Mr. Lester claimed the armchair that matched the sofa.
As Ashley eased down onto the cushion, a clamor rang out from the next room. She looked up to see a young boy with dark hair bust throug
