On top of the cash in the pantry, there was even more in some burlap sacks that used to hold potatoes. It was money they had been socking away long before I came into the picture. They kept them sacks in their attic. I had no idea how much money that was. Mac had mentioned it to me right after they put me in charge of the store. I had never been in the attic and didn’t want to go up there because I knew I would be tempted to start dipping my hands into them sacks, too. Especially after Mac told me they never touched that money because there was more than enough in the pantry to keep things afloat. Every cent they had would belong to Joyce, and me, when they passed on. I prayed a strong enough tornado never cut through Branson and leveled my in-laws’ house and blew all that money away before they died.

I snorted and glanced around my office, beaming with pride. I felt so comfortable in this room. Joyce had decorated it with live plants, curtains she’d made herself, and she’d got rid of the old metal desk her daddy had used for decades. She’d replaced it with a larger, more up-to-date one made of wood. I kept the chairs Mac had used and the same file cabinets, but only because Millie was sentimental about them. There was a great big wedding picture of me and Joyce on the wall facing my desk. The very first dollar the store had made was in a frame next to it. I had it made in the shade. I had my “job” so down pat, I could do it in my sleep. Before I knew it, I did doze off. The next thing I knew, somebody slammed the door shut and startled me. I thought I was dreaming until I opened my eyes and seen something that almost made me go into shock: Milton Hamilton.

“Hello, Odell. Did you miss me?” he said with a smirk as he strutted toward me. I had never seen such a smug look on his blunt-featured face. Even though it had been just a few days since the last time I seen him, it looked like he had lost several pounds off his short, pudgy body.

“What the hell—”

He cut me off before I could finish my sentence. “Surprised?”

I narrowed my eyes and scrambled out of my chair. I couldn’t believe how fast sweat started rolling down my face and how hard my heart was pumping. “W-w-when did you get out of jail?” I was so horrified and stunned, it was a wonder I didn’t shit on myself. It took all of my strength for me to stay in control of my body functions.