The limousine moved slowly, its long chassis scraping slightly on the dip near the entrance.

I shifted into drive and followed at a distance.

I did not want to block the road.

I wanted them to have a clear view of what was left.

The black car stopped in the center of the circular driveway.

The driver’s door opened, and a young man in a dark suit stepped out.

He squinted against the bright Texas sun.

He walked to the rear door and pulled it open, holding his hand over the frame.

Richard emerged first.

He wore a cream linen suit and dark Italian sunglasses.

His skin was dark from the Hawaiian sun, but his posture was stiff.

He turned to help Valerie out of the car.

She wore a white silk halter dress that fluttered in the dry breeze.

Her high heels sank immediately into the soft caliche dust of the driveway.

“Richard, where is the sidewalk?” she asked.

Her voice was thin and high.

Richard did not answer her.

He took three steps forward, then stopped.

His sunglasses slid down the bridge of his nose.