The Golden Farce
The fog rolled in off the river, thick as wool and cold as a grave. Elias Thorne drove the patrol truck with his knuckles white on the wheel, the engine groaning against the damp asphalt. He was looking for the ledger. That was the job. That was the lie he had been feeding himself for six months. The ledger that proved Sheriff Halloway had been selling border crossings to the cartels. The...
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