John Bobby Hallman has been missing for a week now. The rumors going round say he left town because he couldn’t pay his debts. Others claim he eloped with another woman, someone he had been having an affair with.
I know he eloped with death, and his daughter is happier for it. Well, she should be, but I’m not exactly sure she is.
I stole a glance at Wendy, who sat cross-legged on my red fur carpet, thumbing through an old fashion magazine I had smuggled from Frankie’s room out of boredom. There was a general air of melancholy about her, and it had been there since they woke up that fateful Wednesday morning to find an empty, peaceful house, some missing clothes, and a letter from J.B Hallman telling them he had left.
To where? I didn’t know which location to put in the letter, so I stop
