One call to the local precinct and you go straight back to your cell for a parole violation.”

I let go of the handle and rubbed my right wrist again.

The constant fear of violating my parole sat heavy in my chest.

A trespassing charge would mean an immediate warrant and a trip back to a steel bunk.

“Where is he buried?” I asked.

“Whispering Pines,” Dustin said.

“But don’t expect a VIP section.

We kept the arrangements cheap.