Billy Jo had moved her seat back as far as she could and just barely reached the brake as she slowed her car on a narrow dirt driveway filled with deep ruts and overgrown brush. Ahead was a faded old green and white holiday trailer with a wooden deck and smoke rising from the chimney pipe of a woodstove. A light blue compact was parked off to the side, an older-model Honda that had duct tape around the left taillight reflector, and next to it was the sheriff’s car, Raul leaning against it.
Billy Jo parked beside him, turned off the engine, and pressed the button to unfasten her seatbelt just as her door was pulled open. When he smiled, lines formed around his eyes from the sun and the weather, she figured. He shook his head, and she wondered whether he was trying not to laugh as he held o
