Eight Thousand Gallons of Milk and a Small Blue Ledger

guard stepped forward and touched Wayne’s elbow.

Wayne did not pull away, but he did not move either. He looked up at the visitor gallery, saw me standing behind the glass, and gave a slow, single wink.

Then he reached up, took the pencil from behind his ear, and placed it carefully on the metal tool ledge.

“That is enough,” Gregory’s voice came from continue reading …