That Sunday afternoon in April, Jordan Nelson wasn't driving especially fast. He loved cars. There'd been some mischief with cars in the past, but he wasn't blatting it today. He nosed the 19 year-old white Ford Telstar down the short driveway and past the dog kennels, turned left at the gate and headed west.
He was wearing socks, but no shoes. He had $16.10 in coins he'd taken from the room of his "granddad" Kerry Lock, as well as a necklace of Lock's he'd long coveted but had been ordered not to touch: A real boar tusk carved with a scene of a dog holding a pig at bay. As he drove, the blood from the sock on his right foot smeared the accelerator and the brake, and pooled a little around his heel.