CHAPTER TEN
The tall grass skimmed Ashley’s knees as she walked from the driveway to the front door of Squeaky’s trailer. A single cinderblock served as the home’s front porch. Balling her hand into a fist, she knocked on the door and waited.
She glanced back at Daniel sitting in his sedan. After their experiences with the Lesters and Lou Ann, she’d convinced him to let her speak with Squeaky alone. The nine-millimeter handgun holstered in the waistband of her jeans would serve as backup should the need arise. Tennessee was a constitutional carry state. She didn’t need the TBI’s blessing—or even a permit—to protect herself.
Ashley pounded on the door a second time. A rusty pickup sat in the drive, indicating that someone should be home.
“Squeaky?” she called out, banging on the door ag
