Chapter Three
Weston
We pull around to the back of the shelter — a small, barren parking lot that is shared with the local pet shop.
Sharing a parking lot doesn’t bother me: I can’t imagine a homeless shelter needing a lot of parking except during the grand opening, which is when the media will be hanging around.
“So this is your pride and joy, huh?” I said, climbing out of the car and stretching my back. “Wish we could have gone to the hotel first, man.”
“Mark is already here,” Shayne says, locking the car up tight before leading the way towards the back entrance.
I smile at that since I haven’t seen Mark in a week. Mark Vernor is my long-time business partner, and we’ve been friends since we were kids, and Mark had even been there when my father died.
We started Covington Industr
