of a psychotic serial killer with a chip on his shoulder. It is also a classic
tale of young love lost, and a life of regrettable what-ifs.
of her head barely grazed his shoulder. She had to stand on her tip-toes even
though he was leaning downâ€”then their lips met, and the brilliant rays of
sunlight falling through the pines illuminated his face like that of a saint in
a stained-glass window. â€œSaint John,â€ she laughed.
just as Turk came crashing through the underbrush. The huge Shepherd was so
excited to see his master that he stood straight up and placed his giant paws
on Johnâ€™s chest. On anyone else, the paws would have landed on shoulders, but
John Stockton stood six feet four inches tall in his stocking feet. With his
lug-soled boots on, he was easily six and a half feet.