Chapter Thirty-One
The “yard” wasn’t what I expected, though I wasn’t sure what I had envisioned—some chain-link fences with barbed wires and signs that warned potential trespassers to “Beware of Dog” or to “Smile—You’re on Camera.” Or maybe even something along the lines of the salvage yard where the forensic accountant had been hiding out, but certainly not an imposing concrete fortress that spanned as far as the eye could see. Merely looking at it made me shudder. It made some of the state penitentiaries look inviting.
I belatedly realized that I had been thinking out loud. Ever since Leah had left, I had the tendency to do that.
“Actually, my dad won this property on a bet over some college football national championship game a bunch of years ago. The guy who built it based it on so
