And then we sat, thinking dark but separate thoughts, pretending from time to time to read, until the early darkness fell. Then Sheriff Rockwell knocked on our door. Tolliver ushered her in. Her dark green uniform pants were covered with stains, and her heavy jacket was smudged, too. “Me and the SBI guys, we’ve been digging,” she said. “You were right. All our boys are there, and even a couple extra.”

Five

SHE sat in one of the two chairs. Tolliver and I sat on the side of his bed facing her. She was already holding a cup of steaming coffee from McDonald’s, so I didn’t offer her hot chocolate. She didn’t bring up our departure from Twyla’s. She looked exhausted but wired up.

She said, “We’re going to get a lot of attention in the next few days. The TV stations are already calling the office. They’ll be sending crews. The State Bureau of Investigation has taken charge, but they’re letting me stay in it. They want me to liaise with you two, since I brought you in. The supervising agent, Pell Klavin, and Special Agent Max Stuart will want to talk to you.

“You know what I wish?” she said, when we didn’t speak. “I wish I could write you your check, and you could just leave town. This thing is going to focus attention on Doraville…. Well, I guess you-all know what it’s like. Not only are we going to look like we were so uncaring we let some maniac kill eight boys before we noticed, but we’re going to look credulous in the extreme.”

If the shoe fits, I thought.

“We’d leave now if we could,” Tolliver said, and I nodded. “We don’t want to be around for the circus.” Some media attention was good for my business; a lot of media attention was not.

Sheriff Rockwell sat back in the motel chair, a sudden motion that made us look at her. She was giving us a strange look.

“What?” Tolliver asked.

“I’d never have believed you two’d pass at the chance for free publicity,” she said. “I think the better of you for it. Are you really ready to go? Maybe I can ask the SBI boys to drive to the next town to talk to you, if you want to switch motels tonight.”

“We’ll leave Doraville tonight,” I said. I felt like a huge weight had been shifted off my shoulders. I’d been sure the sheriff would insist we stay. I hate police cases. I like the cemetery bookings. Get to the town, drive out to the cemetery, meet the survivors, stand on the grave, tell the survivors what you saw. Cash the check and leave the town. Sheriff Rockwell was at least allowing us to get out of the immediate vicinity.

“Let’s wait until morning,” Tolliver said. “You’re still pretty shaky.”