He just wasn’t sure if he should call his lawyer first—or the police! He chose the police. It had been a strange conversation right from the start. Showing him those photos—Steadman and that other guy. Hofer. And how she wasn’t even a detective, just some employee at the sheriff’s office down there. No badge, only an employee ID. Even if he had gotten a little carried away with all the attention about Henry Steadman . . . he knew it had shaken him up, thrown him off his game. And then that other guy, the one who was milling around the aisles. He and the woman had come in together. He remembered how their eyes clearly ran to each other’s after he looked at that photo. There was something between them. He saw it. And then the guy looked up and Bud got a good look at his face. Henry Steadman. When they left, Bud went to the door and watched them climb into the same car . . . A white Prius. This was the biggest news Mount Holly had seen since snow. The lawyer, he could come later.
