Not even thepleated frills could cover her lost figure. A scrawny, crumpled, oldwoman, she brooded, that's me.There was a knock on the door. Beasely...ran over and twisted the knob.On the other side of the door was the man she had been waiting for. Hewore a t-shirt and jeans which did little to flourish his bland baldhead. She gestured to one of the chairs and the man took his seatholding a briefcase in his hand."Do you have it?" Beasly asked coughing."Of course," the man replied, "please sit. He grunted when she first pulled against his ribs and he moved reluctantly toward the steps and sank down. The woman was as stubborn as Wesley was. He wiped blood from his nose and lip again, looking up at her. ‘I started it… was jus’ me ‘n Wes.’ Lacey blinked as she carefully helped him sink down onto the porch. ‘Wh-what? You started a fight with Wesley? …But why?’ Lacey felt dread sink into the pit of her stomach as she reached for the roll of paper towels that stayed on the back porch,. More

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