Makai drove north, trying to stay awake. He’d taken breaks on the way, but only two of them within the eight-hour drive. He needed to take a leak and get something to eat, but he also had his appointment up at the Sheriff’s Station in thirty minutes. He couldn’t remember many details from his childhood visits to the little town, just the grocery store and maybe a post office, and of course, his grandpa’s house.
Makai’s old-school Nokia phone didn’t have a GPS, but the route was pretty simple, and he’d figured out how long it would take to get to his final destination, even with possible roadwork and other surprises. He also knew he’d just about make it to Acker, Wisconsin, in time. If he didn’t, the reason wouldn’t probably matter to the sheriff who hadn’t sounded keen on having Makai in
