10
Greg sat in his pickup on the summit of a ridge of rising ground in the cover of a recently-planted windbreak of burr oak. He observed the landscape through binoculars. From his vantage point he had watched Hank's team carrying bags of evidence from the old bunkhouse. He hadn't had time to tidy the place, events had piled up so fast. Anyway, a forensics team these days would find clues no matter how well you tried to erase them.
A couple of miles to the north-east he spotted a highway patrol cruiser pulling into the cover of bushes above the back road. He lowered his binoculars. He felt surrounded, trapped.
He recalled another of the recent fraught scenes at Golden Square. He was in his bedroom packing an overnight bag when Lorna burst in, dressed in her red satin robe.
"You're leav
