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A flood of childhood memories filled Shea’s mind as she pulled up to the home shared by Monster and Julia Mueller. The night she stayed there when her sister, Wendy, was born. Countless summer parties eating watermelon and homemade ice cream while her father and the rest of the club drank, argued, and had midnight lawn tractor races down the street.
But the most vivid memories were the long nights she cried herself to sleep wrapped in Julia’s arms after Ralph, her father, murdered her mama.
Shea parked Sweet Betsy on the street, let herself through the gate in the white picket fence, and strolled up the w**d-riddled walk to the house. Ratty beige lawn chairs sat on either side of the door.
Shea knocked. A moment later Monster opened the door, his Beretta in a holster on his hip. His
