54
“Are you sure about this?” Roger asked. I’d switched on Eleanor’s headlights, and the shadows they cast made his face look cadaverous. “Because I’m not.”
“Yes,” I lied, rummaging in Blake’s SUV for anything useful to take with me. “Look, we gave FDLE the information like good boys and girls. And if they get there first, fine. I’m happy for the pros to do their job. But I’m not going to just sit here and wait, not knowing. We’ve wasted too much time already.”
Getting answers on such a sensitive subject from a jonesing Turtle (Glenn was doing his best to get him clean) with Glenn acting as go-between took longer than I would have liked. But now we had a potential location.
The Tar Shed would have been the most poetic choice, but it was no longer standing. When pressed, Turtle had reme
