“Because we have to,” the president said. “And I have two years of questions I want answered.”
“Someone should check this place,” Fritz said. “The pig pen has human remains, I think. With that backhoe, even more might be buried in the fields.” Then he hurried to the back of the barn.
Ashley repeated the careful entrance to the other rooms, slow and step-by-step. In the one on the left, he rubbed along the wall for a light switch and turned on a dim, bare bulb, hanging from the ceiling. In front of him, another limp body, taped hands draped over a hook. A quick scan of the shadowy corners showed an otherwise empty room. Refocusing on the only other living being, he stepped closer, looking at the blood tracks down her back, not all new. I know that scar. He took two short steps in front of
