Chapter 25: Breaking Dawes

When I arrived at Martin Dawes’ office that morning, I listened to talk radio in Sam’s Toyota and sipped a Dr. Pepper for two hours. My fingers ticked nervously on the steering wheel. I found myself vehemently agreeing with everything the local talk show host was saying, nodding my head in excitement.

When I caught a glance of myself in the rearview mirror during such a fit, I almost punched myself in the face. I slapped the dial, and the radio went silent. The radio station frequency faded aw...