Eli was composed of flesh and blood, and when his family or friends were threatened, a pure and ferocious rage rose within him, pounding at his rib cage and the back of his throat, fighting, clawing to be released.

As a responsible citizen of earth, let alone a man sworn to uphold the law—to the letter—Eli resisted that part of himself with all his might. Why? Because his honor, his integrity and his dogged pursuit of justice were entwined with his deepest, truest self, and he knew that if he wasn’t careful, he might become a person he didn’t want to be.

In short, if he wanted to live in his own skin, with any degree of comfort, he couldn’t knowingly break the law.

All the way back to town, and his office, where the lot was crowded with rigs from varying jurisdictions, Eli thought about the dead girl. Whoever she’d been in life, whatever she’d done or failed to do, she hadn’t deserved to die the way she had.

As he parked, his watch, rather than his phone, indicated an incoming text.

He braced himself for a shot of Freddie Lansing’s hate speech as he walked across the parking lot, heading for the office.

Instead, the message was from Sara. Dan Summers agreed to provide security, and he’s moving in today. Eric is holed up in his room with Festus; says he’s going to be a laughingstock, going to school with a bodyguard.

Eli smiled at that, pulled out his phone to text back. No way was he going to attempt a reasonable response on the Lilliputian keyboard the watch offered.

I’ll stop by when I can, he wrote. Tell Eric I said to chill. Very busy at the moment.

Sara’s reply was nearly instantaneous. We heard the sirens. Town’s buzzing with speculation. What’s up?

Eli opened the office door, stepped into the lobby. As if I’d tell you in a text. I’m busy, Sara. LATER.

Did Freddie Lansing do something? Is he in jail? I ran into his mother when I went to the store for groceries half an hour ago and she looked at me as though I’d just run over her puppy.

SARA. STOP. LATER.

Okay, Dudley, have it your way, but you’re going to have to explain eventually.

GOODBYE.

Eli?

He put his phone away without replying.

Inside, Connie Sue Hildebrand, the day receptionist/dispatcher, was fielding calls with grim efficiency.

No, the sheriff was not available for comment.

No, she could not personally make any official statement.

Fortunately, the news crews from larger cities in Montana had yet to arrive, but they were on their way, for sure, and when they arrived, they would stir the present shitshow to a whole new level.