CHAPTER TWENTY-NINELarry Haden
By the time Tod Laine had made arrangements for his release, Larry felt as fragile as one of the antique glass ornaments Aunt Cyn used to hang on his Christmas tree. Something inside was wound too tightly, ready to smash or explode at a rough touch or even the slightest motion.
As they drove the long miles out to Bobcat Ridge, he tried to seem calm, to respond to Tod’s well-meant conversation, but he felt his control ticking away, dwindling like sand in an hourglass. When Tod pulled around the curving drive, he managed to thank him convincingly.
The lawyer had an appointment and didn’t wait to speak with Margaret; Larry was thankful, for he knew that Meg could, with her brisk and unemotional air, relieve his tensions. The presence of anyone else, even Bud,
