He hadn’t bothered to bring the fishing pole, wanting nothing more than to feel the afternoon sun on his face for a while.“I’ve been watching you,” a gruff voice said.Brac sat straight up and turned to find an older man step out of the brush. After Priest had filled him in on Steve’s suicide, he knew exactly who the man was. Although having a rifle pointed at him was enough to scare the shit out of him, it was the red laser sight on top that Brac knew cemented his fate. “Mr Hostetler?”“Don’t you say my name, boy,” Curtis spat. “I came to make things right. I’ve waited for this chance for days, and I finally saw that big fella leave, so I’m taking it.”Brac held up his hands to draw Curtis’ attention away from the gun hidden between his legs. He’d known he was taking a chance coming out to the pond after Priest had left, so he’d found one of Jessup’s guns and had brought it with him. Damn, was he glad of his moment of paranoia.“Please, sir. I’m sorry about Steve.
