Mike Gilbert paused before driving under the deer skull. Carved vines twisted along the arch at the entrance to Undergrove Salvage, with the bone-white skull centered at the top. He flicked a cigarette butt onto the road, then stepped on the gas. His Ford F-150...

The stink of cigarettes and stale beer enveloped me as I pushed through the door of The Last Call. George Jones crooned from the jukebox and across the crowded room, Sherry Carter balanced a tray of drinks. She weaved between tables, her red hair like...

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