Preston shrugged as if hating his former wife was old news— which it probably was. “I hated everything about that woman. Marrying her was my biggest mistake,” he said, his voice growing louder and louder. “She took everything from me. Even my tools. Doris couldn’t tell the difference between a screwdriver and a pencil. She took them just to be spiteful. When she won the lottery, she didn’t give me a penny. Not a damn one. She should’ve given me something after tearing down the cabin I built and for stealing my tools. I wasted fifteen years of my life. But don’t ask just me. Doris took a ring from Clara. I wouldn’t be surprised if ol’ Clara-Bell killed Doris.”
When Preston paused to take a breath, I squeezed in a question. “Why did Doris steal a ring from her sister? Was it valuable?”
“It
