Not six hours since Lillie found Rusty Wise’s body, bled-out and cold in his deer stand, Caddy Colson marched through the deputies, highway patrolmen, and news folks and wanted to know what the hell had happened to her brother. Lillie had set up a command center in the sheriff’s office at dawn, taking calls from sheriffs from adjoining counties who wanted to lend their support. She was on the phone, talking to the Lee County sheriff about use of their helicopter, with Caddy staring her down with crossed arms and a red face.
Her T-shirt under a loose men’s flannel read ONE STEP AT A TIME.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t call you back,” Lillie said. “You might have noticed the shit has hit the fan around here.”
“Yeah, the new sheriff has been shot,” she said. “Where’s my brother? Don’t tell me y’all think he did it?”
Lillie leaned against the desk and took a good deep breath and said, “No, Caddy. I don’t think Quinn shot Rusty. But I’d be lying to say you’re the first who wondered it aloud. This office has been crawling with state people, asking a lot of questions and looking at a lot of maps.”
“When’s the last time you saw Quinn?” Caddy said. “I tried calling the farm, Anna Lee’s, Momma. If he didn’t tell you, then something real bad has happened.”
“Last time I heard from him, he was headed to talk to Rusty.”
“Why?”
“I can’t say,” Lillie said. “It was official business left over from when he was sheriff. We found Quinn’s truck parked out on Rusty’s land. The keys were in it. We’ve had folks searching the woods since three a.m.”
“They killed him.”
“No,” Lillie said.
“They killed him,” she said. “Whoever killed Rusty killed my brother. He’s out there dead. Jesus God.”
“Caddy,” Lillie said, looking dead-eyed and serious at the messed-up girl. “I know you’re going through hell. But if you ever say such bullshit again, I’ll punch you right in the goddamn mouth. We’re doing all we can. Quinn is out there. We’ll find him. Understand?”
Caddy nodded, closed her eyes, and then, as if emptied of all her energy, sat right back in the wooden chair. She held her head in both hands and looked as if she’d started to cry. Jesus Christ. The last goddamn thing Lillie needed was Caddy Colson wanting some hand-holding. Quinn would be fine. He had to be fine. But, right now, she was acting sheriff with a shooter, or some shooters, out roaming a big stretch of land. She had to have a little time to think, make some connections.
“I want to help,” Caddy said.
“How the hell’d you get over here from Tupelo?” Lillie said. “Don’t tell me that you walked.”
“I checked myself out,” she said. “I’m about tired of eating Jell-O and talking to my Higher Power. Thank God, I got a ride. My brother is missing.”
“Just who in the hell helped you check out of that place?”
Boom Kimbrough walked into the office, making the space seem a little smaller, more congested, with his big slumped frame. He had on an old greenish mackinaw jacket and a blue knit cap and leaned his good arm against the doorframe, staring down at Lillie. “She needed to know.”
Lillie nodded. “And you gave her a ride?”
“She needed a ride,” Boom said. “Quinn’s got trouble.”
“I know Quinn’s got trouble,” Lillie said. “I got trouble, too. I just got back from talking to Rusty’s wife and kids for the last two hours. He hadn’t been sheriff but two weeks and someone shot him dead out of his deer stand. There’s blood all over that floor and walls. My God, it’s a mess.”
“Rusty’s blood?” Boom asked.
“I don’t know whose blood.”
“You know patterns,” Boom said. “How many got shot up there?”
Lillie gave Boom a hard stare and swallowed. She still felt empty and hollow, everything that happened almost unreal and apart from her. There had been so much crying and wailing at Rusty’s, the whole house seeming to hum with their sorrow and loss. Lillie had stepped out the door as their family pastor arrived, unable to take any more. Blaming herself for not watching Rusty’s back.
“Quinn’s truck was parked out on his land,” Lillie said.
“Ain’t what I asked, Lillie,” Boom said. “What’d you see in that stand?”
“God damn you, Boom,” Lillie said. “We got highway patrol and MBI out, crawling those woods. If you think you can do a better job, then feel free to go on out and tramp the woods with them. I’d be out there now, if someone didn’t have to run things.”
“You think it’s Quinn’s blood,” Caddy said. “Don’t you?”
Lillie shook her head, looking from Caddy to Boom. Quinn’s sister to his best friend. She walked over to the office door and closed it with a light click. She stood next to Boom, who’d moved into the center of the room, and looked down at Caddy. “I will not cry,” Lillie said. “Not till all this is over. But, yes, it looked like two men were in that deer stand. Both of them hit. If it was Quinn, he’s been wounded pretty bad. We don’t know where he went.”
“What the hell are we doing here?” Caddy said.
“This is what’s called the command center,” Lillie said. “I’m in command. I’ve set up roadblocks, having the woods searched grid by grid, keeping in touch with the folks out there. Did I mention, I’m working on getting a goddamn helicopter?”
“Rusty bought the old Shaw place?” Boom said. “Right? A couple miles outside Fate.”
“Don’t even think about it, Boom,” Lillie said. “I need your help right here.”
• • •
I’m not stupid,” Tonya said. “You used me.”
“Can this wait until I get out of jail?” Mickey said. “I got a first appearance in two hours. My lawyer says he’ll argue down a decent bail.”
“No, it can’t wait,” Tonya said. “I kind of wanted to see you like this, without the designer jeans, the fancy-ass shirt, and driving around in your red Hummer. You look more like your real self in that orange jumpsuit and behind that fence.”
“It’s cold out here,” Mickey said. “I thought you’d come to apologize for those phone messages. You called me some real nasty shit.”
The jail guard had allowed Mickey to get out of his cell, stretch, and have a smoke out in the fenced-off yard. Mommas, girlfriends, brothers, and buddies had come by that morning to exchange fried pies and cigarettes through the chain-link. There wasn’t much in that yard besides some old plastic school chairs and a couple rotten picnic tables. A goddamn exhibit of Tibbehah County’s finest. Jericho’s own private zoo.
“Just admit you used me,” Tonya said.
“How’s that?”
“You didn’t want to patch things up,” Tonya said, wearing pink sweatpants, a big blue puffy coat, and pink cowboy boots. Her hair was the color of straw and her face that same deep brown, even without a trace of makeup. “I was a goddamn alibi while you robbed my daddy.”
“Just how can I be two places at once?”
“Kyle and his buds did your dirty work,” she said. “You don’t even have the nuts to take care of your own business. Just like you didn’t have the nuts to close the damn deal on me the other night. Didn’t you see me dancing in my sheer bra-and-panty set in front of that window? At first, I thought you were having trouble with your ding-dong. But as soon as you ran for your truck, I knew there was more. I cried for you, Mickey Walls. I fucking cried for your stupid ass.”
Mickey put his hand onto the diamonds of the chain-link. He offered his ex-wife his best smile.
“I sure wish I could punch your nose through this fence,” she said. “People are laughing at me. Laughing for me fronting you while you embarrassed me, embarrassed my family. Son of a bitch, Mickey. I got buck-ass nekkid with you and ran into the Gulf.”
“That was real,” Mickey said. “That was a special night.”
“So how come you ran off at the stroke of midnight?” Tonya said. “You afraid your fucking Hummer was gonna turn into a pumpkin?”
“I was drunk,” he said. “I started having feelings for you. I couldn’t breathe and got nervous. You just looked so beautiful on that beach.”
“Freezing my titties off?”
“I got scared.”
Tonya just shook her head, not buying one word of it. She put her hands into her puffy coat pockets and walked up close on the chain-link. Mickey sure was wishing the guard would call him soon. He wanted to see the judge, make that bond, and then get home for a hot shower, a cold drink, and some goddamn time to think. He could think this mess through. But whatever way it turned, he needed Tonya Cobb on his side. She goes over to her daddy and momma and there’d be a bigger fight than he wanted.
“Daddy’s ulcer is back,” Tonya said. “Momma is back into the wine.”
“I can’t help that.”
“They’re sleeping on my couch,” Tonya said. “Daddy’s carrying a gun. He keeps on saying people are coming to kill him.”
“It’s over,” Mickey said, giving a soft, reassuring smile. “It’s all over. People just want me and you to keep apart. Don’t let them do that, Tonya. What we have is special. It’s real.”
“Daddy always said you weren’t worth a shit.”
Mickey’s face heated up a bit, the smile dropping, as he tilted his head and looked to Tonya. Damn. There was no pleasing this woman.
“If you don’t go to Parchman,” Tonya said, “I hope you and Kyle sure do enjoy all that cash. I don’t hate you for what you done to Daddy. But why in God’s name did you have to drag me into this mess?”
Tonya turned on her pink boots and walked away. Mickey headed away from the fence, found a plastic school chair, and dragged it into a small patch of sunlight. He sat there until one of the deputies called his name.
• • •
Lillie walked out of the sheriff’s office to get some air and smoke a cigarette. It had been a long while since she’d smoked, but today seemed like a hell of a day to start back. Everything had started at two a.m. when she’d gotten the call from Rusty’s wife, driving down that long gravel road in the dark, seeing Quinn’s old truck and knowing something horrible had happened. She had followed the path to the deer stand, seen the body and the blood smears by flashlight, and called in the deputies and the folks from MBI. She walked miles of forest until sunup, not finding a trace of Quinn. By morning, she knew she had to get back to the sheriff’s office and coordinate—roads needed to be blocked off, maps laid out, and air searches begun.
She smoked and thought of where Quinn would go, who might be following, and how bad he might be hurt. The parking lot was so jam-packed with media trucks and deputies from other counties, she hadn’t noticed the man in the green parka walking toward her until he spoke. “You can’t find him,” he said. “Can you?”
He pulled his hood back, showing his face. Goddamn Ringold, the man who walked behind Stagg. Lillie dropped the cigarette and went for her gun, pulling it on him. The man’s hands shot up, him grimacing a bit as if he were hurt. “Slow down, sweetheart,” he said. “Let’s talk.”
“Hands on the car.”
“Listen to me.”
“Put your fucking hands on the hood or I’ll shoot you right in the fucking head.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Ringold said, doing as he was told.
“Where is he?” she said, reaching and finding an auto on the man’s hip, running down both legs and retrieving a .38 and a knife in his boots. “You people shot him.”
“It’s not like that,” Ringold said, gritting his teeth as Lillie touched his flank. “Let’s just slow down and talk. Be cool.”
“Be cool?” Lillie said. “Y’all shot Quinn. You killed Rusty. There’s no slowing down. Shooting your ass would be too damn easy. I’ll make you cry for it.”
She punched him hard in the stomach. Ringold dropped to his knees and gritted his teeth again, unable to breathe, eyes watering. “Get up,” she said. “You fucking pussy.”
Ringold reached for the Jeep’s hood and tried to stand, Lillie yanking him the rest of the way by the parka’s hood. As soon as he’d steadied himself and caught his breath, he said, “Pull up my shirt.”
“Why?”
“Shit,” he said. “Just look.”
Lillie pulled up the side of his parka and a thick black sweater to reveal a bloodied bandage running across his side and taped on his stomach. “I’ve been shot.”
“He should’ve killed you.”
“Quinn didn’t shoot me,” Ringold said. “God damn it. I’m working with him.”
“Bull-fucking-shit.”
“He told you and Wise that there was someone in with Stagg.”
“Yeah, a fucking pole dancer with her hands around Stagg’s unit,” Lillie said. “You’re too damn ugly for the job.”
“You really believe that?”
“OK,” Lillie said, gun still in Ringold’s side. “Prove it.”
“In my right-hand pocket,” he said. “My shield. Call in to the Oxford office, if you want. But you know I’m right. Why else would I come here? I got nowhere else to go. Stagg knows.”
Lillie found the badge, studied it, and holstered her Glock. “Son of a bitch.”
“We were supposed to raid Stagg’s place today,” he said. “Something happened. Somebody talked and they all know about me and him. Two men came to the motel last night to kill me.”
“And what happened?”
“They sucked at their jobs,” Ringold said. “How many deputies can we get?”
“There’s some good trackers out there,” Lillie said. “A whole team of them from Jackson are taking it step-by-step from where Quinn left his vehicle and Rusty’s deer stand. They think Quinn may have gotten confused and wandered into the National Forest.”
“Quinn’s a U.S. Army Ranger,” Ringold said. “Those boys aren’t known to wander. He’s leading them somewhere.”
“Why?”
“Because those trackers aren’t on our side,” he said. “Stagg goes down and a lot of important folks go with him. They want Quinn dead.”