Chapter Eight
Mark took in the locksmith’s sign as he pulled in front of Roland Shephard’s. Knowing the man who was harassing Sybil was the island locksmith didn’t leave him with a warm and fuzzy feeling.
The Jeep windows were down, and the day was getting hot, but he kept his jean jacket and sunglasses on and the dog in the back seat as he strode over to an open garage, hearing the grinding of metal. The man was tall and unshaved, wearing safety glasses, faded brown pants, and a T-shirt. He would easily blend in with a crowd.
Mark tapped on the side of the building, “Hello, are you Roland Shephard?” he called out loudly, not pulling off his glasses.
The man looked up and flicked off the machine he was cutting keys with. “Can I help you with something?” was all he said as he reached fo
