“One who wants these murders solved.”

“Then arrest me,” I said recklessly. “I won’t do it.”

“You’re not strong enough to go into jail,” Tolliver said, his voice quiet. I leaned against him, fighting a feeling of terrible weariness. His arms went around me, and I rested my head against his chest. I had a few seconds’ peace before I made my brain begin working again.

He was right. With a cracked arm and a head that hadn’t healed, I wouldn’t have a good time even in a small-town jail like the one in Doraville. And if the town shared a jail with other nearby towns, as was probably the case, I might fare even worse. So I’d have to do what “they” wanted me to, and I might as well bite the bullet and get it done. But who were “they”? Did Sheriff Rockwell mean the state police?

I had to pull myself away from Tolliver. I was accepting his support under false pretenses, and sooner or later I’d have to admit it.

“You need to eat,” he said, and I thudded back down to reality.

“Yes,” I said. I did need something to eat, and it would help if we had a place to stay afterwards. I’d need to rest, whether or not the result was a fresh crop of bodies.

“All right then,” I said. “I’m going to go eat something, and then we’ll meet you.”

“Don’t think you can get out of town without us seeing you,” she said.

“I really don’t like you,” I said.

She looked down. I don’t know what expression she wanted to hide. Maybe at the moment she wasn’t too fond of herself.

We stole out of the back of the station and finally found a fast-food chain place that looked pretty anonymous. It was too cold to eat in the car. We had to go in. Fortunately, no one in there seemed to read the papers, or else they were simply too polite to accost me. Which meant there weren’t any reporters. Either way, I got to eat the food in peace. At least with food this simple, there was nothing Tolliver had to cut up for me. All the aid he had to supply was ripping open the ketchup packets and putting the straw in the drink. I ate slowly because after we finished I’d have to go to the damn barn, and I didn’t want to.

“I think this sucks,” I said after I’d eaten half the hamburger. “Not the food, but the situation.”

“I do, too,” he said. “But I don’t see how we can get out of it without more fuss than doing it will be.”