Bryce Cannaday.” I said benignly.“That is a beautiful name!” Buck chirped. I was suddenly embarrassed that I hadn’t shown him the same enthusi...sm when I learned his name. “Come on, Mr. Bryce Cannaday…let’s get some grub!”Buck insisted on driving like a kid who has just gotten his license. I was a little nervous about a tractor-driving farmboy running through the gears of my Beemer…but he really knew what he was doing. There was something so mysterious about my playmate and I am happy to peel. Looking at the mugshot under the headline, I knew the face; I knew the person. It was the stunningly beautiful girl I’d read of before, executed here back in 1993.It was her! She was the ghost I’d been seeing!I picked up the phone, read the story. It was a more in-depth article than the one I’d read before... The article explored her upbringing, said she’d had a tough life. Her parents were janitors and were strict, tough on her, forced her to study for hours on end. Her alcoholic father. More

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