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It was like buzzards circling a body.

The Jones kid, Randy, was out in the Mule Barn parking lot with the hood up on his car. He was staring down into it the way a first-time parachutist would look out the airplane door. You never quite knew for sure what lay ahead.

“Looks like Randy’s got problems,” Steve said.

“Let’s have a look,” Dud said.

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