Chapter 10
Wesley Rutledge had all the grace and charm of a rusty bulldozer. He bared his teeth in something that had only a passing resemblance to a sympathetic smile.
“End of an era, eh, kid?” he asked, waving a glass of bourbon, swishing it around. “Come in, have a drink to your old man.”
It sounded more like an order than an invitation and Scooter could already feel tension creeping up his shoulders. Nothing about this situation was normal—when his own Ma had died, everyone had stayed in the room for hours before someone finally thought to call the hospice nurse and the EMTs came to take care of her body. Crying. Holding each other. They’d had to drag his sister, Mace, away.
Charles Howard’s family just stared at each other for a few moments. Eleanor had shed exactly two tears befo
