Josiah
Chris pulled into my driveway just as the parade of state police cruisers was leaving. I accosted him before he even climbed out of his vehicle. “What the hell, Chris! You couldn’t even give me a heads-up that they had a search warrant?”
Unfolding his long, lanky body from his Bronco, he held up his hands in a “don’t shoot” gesture. “I swear man, I had no idea it was going down. I just got the call five minutes ago from the judge’s office, and I came straight away.” He lowered his hands so he could shut the car door. “But they didn’t find anything, right?”
I drove my hands through my hair. “What they found was a stupid dirty glove in the back of my SUV.”
Chris’s eyebrow inched up. “A glove, Josiah?”
“Don’t look at me like that! It wasn’t my glove, and I have no idea h
