And more to do with what he was trying to hide.

PART 3: The Things Marcus Remembered

Sunday afternoon arrived with a gray sky and a cold wind that carried the smell of rain.

Marcus lived about fifteen minutes from our house, in a small brick home with a detached garage that had gradually become a repair shop for anything involving wires, speakers, or musical instruments.

I pulled into his driveway shortly after two.

The garage door was open.