Everyone turned toward the voice and saw an old man leaning on a cane.
"Whoa, Brock! What are you doing out here?" the tight-lipped man exclaimed, slapping his thigh. He hurried over to the man he called Brock and helped him to a seat.
Zoe Sawyer stood in the crowd, watching the newcomer.
He looked to be about the same age as the expert, but he didn't seem to be in good health. His hands, gripping the cane, trembled nonstop, and he was gasping for breath.
"Spit it out! What's this about Brandon taking people to dig up a grave?" the old man called Brock demanded, raising his voice. His eyes swept over everyone present, a sense of unease growing stronger within him.
The two old men who had been talking just moments before exchanged glances, their lips sealed as if glued shut. Neither said a word.
'Are you kidding me? Brock's health is so poor. If he found out what Brandon did, he'd probably pass out from rage!'
