The Golden Suspect
The fox is dead in the ditch by the turnoff to Oakhaven, and you are the one who has to look at it, because that is what you do, you are the man who finds the things that don’t fit, the man who measures the distance between what is said and what is true, and now your boots are muddy and your coat is damp from the rain that has been falling since the morning you left Margaret, so you stand...
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