The place was called Grimley Park. A large triangle of land between the Brown and Little Brown rivers. Filled with old oaks and poplars, massive flower beds, lots of trails for bikers and runners to get lost in and a winding narrow blacktop lane to cruise slowly down on a warm sunny day. There were places in the park where you had to trek in on foot and through undergrowth and would never be seen again. Places where you could hide a battalion of sword-wielding ninjas and never be found. Places where, over the years, Frank and I have worked many a homicide case out of.
Nathan Brinkley didn’t pick a secluded spot in the park for us to have our little get together. This time he chose a busy part of the park where there were softball diamonds and tennis courts surrounding a large, paved parki
