Harlan and Gloria Stone have played amateur sleuths for years. Using resources available at home, they have always managed to beat the officials on solving a case. Now on one of their frequent RV excursions, they stumble across a new mystery, a body in a whiskey barrel, a barrel that sat in a warehouse for more than twenty years. Gloria, applying her well developed sleuthing skills, identifies the victim the same day she is discovered in the barrel. From that point, Gloria and Harlan continue to uncover information well ahead of the officials. They come to the attention of the authorities and to the sinister characters who are still around more than twenty years after the deed. Cooperating with the one group and avoiding the other group, they push the mystery to a complete resolution.
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“Hurry up,” he said, roughly. “I have to get back to the family.”
“I’m... “ she looked away from him. At the door, at the floor, as though she were looking for an escape. “I’m pregnant.” She waited a second, then looked up from the floor to his face. “It must be eight or nine weeks now, at least. There’s just no doubt, even without a test, and I just had to tell you. What are we going to do?”
She rose from the bed and stepped toward him.
“I mean, we're in this together and I had to tell you. We have to come up with a plan, something.”
Bill was an impulsive type. Not necessarily violent, mostly because his circumstances did not take him into potentially violent situations. In court, a lawyer, with the full facts, would argue that he was mentally impaired at the moment, having just experienced the extremis of sexual climax, that his actions were without thought, without intent and without control. The third time he heard Sarajane use the word “we,” he saw, in an instant, his easy little world falling to pieces, and he lashed out. The blow caught her completely by surprise and sent her reeling and falling, the side of her head catching the corner of the credenza as she went down.