A game of Scrabble has serious consequences.

Detective Inspector Dave Box entered the room: an elderly man sat motionless in a wheelchair in a blue dressing gown open at his pale chest, revealing sparse hairs and a plastic tube entering the bottom of his throat.

Shepherd's family made money by being outlaws. Well, outlaws in the governments' eyes.

"Damn thing," old Ernie muttered, glancing up from his laptop. He reached out to shut off the annoying noise but noticed the call was from his area. This was unusual.

My cousin Dedrick and me are farmers. We don’t own no land and most likely never will, but we use land that’s been forgotten by its owners or maybe it was never owned other than by the Cherokee in them olden days.

A warmth filled my chest, an immense sense of pride that you were here. With me. I'd only met you properly for the first time this morning. Of course, I knew you before then.

Dr. Vandermeer laughed. First to himself because he was a true capitalist. Then out loud because he simply wanted to.

‘What shall we do with the body?’ The other one rubbed his chin. ‘Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, eh?

That wasn’t the third thing I did that made me look suspicious. It was the suitcase.