breaking into several pieces. “I never remembered driving the night Lisa died.” He gazed up at the ceiling like he was trying to conjure up a memory. I furrowed my brow. “What are you saying?” “I remember going out with Calvin and Lisa. I really didn’t want to because I’d worked twenty-four hours straight between the ranch and the auto shop. I just wanted to sleep, but it was his birthday. We took my truck to Pine Tavern. That’s the last thing I remember.” “So, you must have fallen asleep on the drive home,” I said, inching away.
