Chapter 7
With his tea positioned in both hands, he sat next to me on the battered sofa and said, “It’s strange for me to be back here at your uncle’s cabin. I used to visit sometimes, but not by choice.”
“How so?” I asked, falling into the cop’s green eyes, caught on his heavy stare for some strange, enticing reason I didn’t fully understand and probably never would.
“With all due respect, Dalton, your uncle wasn’t a perfect man. A celebrity in these parts because of his books? Yes. Perfect? By no means.”
“Spiel it,” I told him. “I love family gossip. Tell me a side about my uncle I don’t already know.”