put the call on speaker and set the phone beside the sugar bowl.
“When?” I asked.
“Sometime during the night. Harold found him.”
Dad’s expression changed.
Harold Pike had been his closest friend for more than forty years.
They had fished together, watched football together, helped each other through bad marriages, health scares, layoffs, and the kind of mistakes men start admitting only after they have known each other long enough to stop pretending.
Harold had also owned the local funeral home before retiring.
For one uncomfortable second, Vanessa’s lie
