A murder is about to take place. You can sense it in the descriptions of foggy roads, in the darkness that surrounds characters and places. Something is going to happen, something bad. You know it, feel it coming, but can do nothing to stop it or change it. The place is Bucks County, Pennsylvania in July, 1939. Bill and Carl travel towards Canada; away from the depression, the law and their rotten lives. Away from a botched robbery that left a man dead on a chipped tile floor. Corn fields; neglected, pungent, ripe. The crunch of raw kernels. Damp fog, narrow winding roads. A stolen Chevy. Bill's pathetic accomplice, Carl, kindles his brutality. They wreak havoc on the small town of Maple Grove, ignite a chain of events that spans decades, perhaps centuries. Death and time are no barrier for the killers or the victims, for the end is only the beginning-- Did it really happen? Is this just a tall tale best whispered around a camp fire? Ask Drew, Stacy, Diana and Barbara. Go ask Natalie, Blanche, and Ida. You can even ask Tom, but whatever you do, don't ask Bill and Carl Ask the people of Maple Grove, PA. They'll tell you. . . maybe.