When I woke up Saturday morning at seven, Milton was still snoozing. I was tempted to get dressed and go next door and feel Joyce out, hoping she’d tell me what she’d said to him last night that had him acting so odd. But she ran her mouth so much about subjects I didn’t care nothing about, I probably would have had to stay with her all morning to hear what I needed to hear. I put that notion out of my mind.

An hour later, I heard Willie Frank’s truck pull up outside while we was eating breakfast. He had his own key, but I ran to open the door for him anyway. “I’m so glad to see you,” I squealed, giving him a hug.

“Huh? Hell’s bells. You just seen me a few hours ago.” He snickered. I noticed he had on the same blue flannel shirt and black pants he’d wore last night. His eyes had dark circles and was red and puffy. I knew he hadn’t been home or got much sleep. “I can’t stay long. I was so anxious to get Sweet Sue back to her playpen last night, I forgot that plug of chewing tobacco I left on the windowsill.” He strolled over to the window to get his tobacco.

“Willie Frank, we need to talk,” Milton said in a gruff tone as he strode into the room, still in his pajamas. “I think we got another mess on our hands.”

“Oh? This involve a legal issue?” Willie Frank asked.

“Something like that. And I don’t like it one bit,” Milton griped. He was squinting so hard, it looked like his eyebrows had merged.

“Whatever the hell it is, I want to know before I go crazy,” I snapped as I stamped my foot and glared at Milton.

He stood in the middle of the floor tapping his foot, looking from Willie Frank to me and back. “Y’all ain’t going to like what I’m fixing to say,” he warned.

“Uh-oh. I better take a seat then.” Willie Frank shuffled over to the couch and eased down. Milton plopped down next to him, and I stood in front of him with my arms folded.

When Milton started talking again, he sounded even more serious. “Willie Frank, do you know where Sheriff Potts received that bogus telephone call at?”

“That’s a odd thing for you to be concerned about. Why do you need to know?” Willie Frank asked with a confused look on his face. Then he glanced at me and shrugged. I shrugged, too.

“Just answer my question,” Milton ordered.

“They called Sheriff Potts at his house.”

“You sure they didn’t call him at his office?” Milton asked.

“Yeah, I’m sure. That’s what he told me and Uncle Lamar.”

“Do you think they mentioned it to somebody else?” Milton’s voice cracked, and that scared me.