Dan Farr occupies a handsome red-brick house in Draper’s foothills, furnished in elegant floral patterns and generally tidy except for a child’s toy here or there. He’s a tall blond man with a broad jaw, and standing at his door wearing a polo shirt and a wry smile, he strikes you as modern-day nobility, a front-runner.
Then he shows you the undead guys in his closet.
Farr is full of surprises, and not just the movie-quality horror props he stuffs into the nooks of his idyllic home. It is this ...
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