CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT
Kate was fully expecting no one to be home. She arrived at Jack Kramer’s house at 8:40, figuring he was probably at work—at the body detail shop that Bill of Bill’s Tire had seemed to scoff at. But when she pulled into the small gravel driveway, she saw a single truck parked in the driveway. The house itself was rustic and simple and, like a lot of the trailers tucked just off of the back roads, looked like it was just a few years from falling in on itself.
The lawn looked as if it had been freshly cut and that was about the only positive thing she could say about the property. Out to the back, the yard stopped suddenly, overtaken by weeds for several yards before the forest took over. An old doghouse sat to the side of the yard, along with what looked like a few old
