CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Rather ironically, Jimmy Daughtry worked at an outdoor sports shop. It was a second-hand family-owned business situated in the rural area that sat just outside of Cambridge. When Avery stepped inside, she was a little overwhelmed. She had been into sports stores before, sure, but never one where hunting and fishing were the main draws.
Clothing racks were packed with camo suits and insulated jackets, most of which were bright orange. The entire rear wall was paneled in glass casing, containing a variety of guns. While most of them were basic hunting rifles, a few might have drawn the suspicion of someone working with the ATF.
Fishing rods and reels were on the wall to the right while other assorted hunting equipment lined the shelves of the opposite wall—everything from
