Eight Thousand Gallons of Milk and a Small Blue Ledger

guards at the front desk,” Evelyn said.

“They work for the dairy, Evelyn,” I said. “Not for Gregory.”

Wayne took the second crate from the workbench, his boots heavy on the wooden floor of the shop. He slid the crate into the truck bed next to the first one, then pulled the black canvas cover tight over the wood frames.

“We will meet continue reading …