Chapter Eight
Nate had been on his way to interview the bank manager that got shot in the foot by one of the robbers when a car with a Confederate flag on the roof showed up smack dab in front of him. It had to be the same car Sheriff Grizzle had told him about. The bank manager would have to wait. Heck, it wasn’t like he’d be going anywhere, since he was still in the hospital. Nate had planned to take a gift basket of fruit to butter him up and get him talking. Obviously he couldn’t take flowers or candy. If he did, folks would think he was queer or something.
The little car was whizzing along at speeds Nate’s old clunker couldn’t compete with, and he really needed to push the rattling engine of his truck to keep up. Half the time it struggled to reach 45mph, which was considered slow a
