CHAPTER 18

Tony’s urgent message could only mean bad news. Alsop hurried to the Speedy Mart and strode inside to the smell of spicy oxtail soup. Tony stood behind the counter, caught Alsop’s eye, and shrugged. Too many customers. Alsop would wait outside for the place to clear out.

At the door, he grabbed a copy of The Oklahoman and sat on a stack of empty Coke cases under a dark gray sky and lit a cigarette. A small headline in section two caught his eye. Double Murder Casts Pall Over State’s Fiftieth Anniversary. It was a follow-up story that described the circumstances of Will and Miss Iris’s death. Alsop stiffened at the last sentence. Defiance Police Chief Parker is following a lead and is confident he’ll catch the killer.

Alsop looked up from the paper. Did the chief tell Thomas about the foot impression? Even if he hadn’t, he shouldn’t have mentioned having leads. The killer might guess he left a footprint and dump his shoes.

A white pickup caked with red dirt bounced into the lot and skidded to a stop. The driver, an Indian, maybe eighteen, let out a high-pitched laugh. He sat hooting it up with a can of Schlitz beer and a fellow Indian passenger. He wore a patch on his shoulder, a square pattern of four tomahawks. Alsop knew the number four was sacred to the Caddo people, but the tomahawks were new.

Alsop took a deep drag of his cigarette and thought about how the Caddo people--among other nations--were driven from their homelands and marched into Oklahoma, forced to drag along only what they could carry, and that many had died along the way. He flipped his cigarette into the parking lot and wondered if the young Caddos were acting out generations of resentment. He went back inside and was pleased to see Tony was alone.

“Thank you, Councilman Alsop,” Tony said.

“What’s to thank me for?”

“Not giving me up to the cops. Heard you got knocked out. But, um...” His eyes flitted to the door. “Caddo people aren’t finished yet.”

Alsop tensed. “Finished with what?”

“Tomorrow, at your celebration, they’re going to demonstrate. Couple hundred. Maybe more.”

“Chief Parker will handle them.”

“There’s something else.” A bell jingled, and Tony flinched. An old white male shuffled through the door.

“That’s okay,” Alsop said. “He’s going to the back.”

Tony opened his mouth when the bell jingled again. A teenage girl came in humming.

Alsop grabbed Tony’s arm. “What is it?”

Tony leaned close. “A bomb.”

The word slammed Alsop’s chest like a fist.

Tony yanked his arm free. “Tomorrow. That’s all I know.”

Alsop took a pack of Juicy Fruit gum from a box and threw down a twenty. “Keep the change.”

“That’s okay. I just don’t want to see anyone getting hurt.” Tony slid the bill back.

Alsop stuffed it into Tony’s shirt pocket, then sidestepped the girl near the door, opened it, and held it open for the two Indians from the parking lot. One bellowed, “Hey, Tony, my man!”

Alsop drove away, swiping sweat off his neck. What the hell kind of bomb? Gasoline? Dynamite? Maybe a time bomb under the grandstand--Or inside his Plymouth Belvedere.