“I don’t really know. I want to leave. I want justice done. I feel terrible that Helen lost both her daughters to a murderer.”

“Or is this all about Hollis?” Tolliver asked, his voice sharp. “Is this about you wanting to impress a law man?”

I felt like slapping Tolliver, or screaming. But I stared up at him and did neither of those things. After a long moment, he said, “Okay, I’m sorry.”

“She said it would take three days to get a preliminary answer?” I responded.

“Yes. Longer for a definitive answer, but three days for a quick yes or no. Since it’s from hair follicles, and not blood samples.”

We were leaving the store when a patrol car pulled up beside ours. A deputy got out, a man I hadn’t seen before. He was tall, thin, and middle-aged, his colorless hair shaved close to his head. He wore ugly glasses and he was tense as a coiled snake. He stalked to the rear of the car and looked at our Texas license plate like it was in German.

“I run your license plate,” he said. “You got a warrant out for your arrest in Montana.”

“No we don’t,” I said, but Tolliver gripped my arm.

“And you got a busted out taillight back here.” He pointed, but I wasn’t fool enough to get close to him to look. He waited for a reaction from us, seemed a little disappointed when he didn’t get one. “You, sir, you’re the legal owner of this car?”

“Yes,” Tolliver said carefully.

“Lean up against your car with your hands on the hood. I’m going to have to take you in.”

I felt a humming start up in my head, just a distant little humming. I stood frozen while my brother silently, almost casually, complied. Tolliver had seen the tension in the deputy’s body, too.

“What . . .” I had to clear my throat. “What are you doing?”

“Outstanding warrants, he’s got to go to jail while I clear this up.”

“What?” I couldn’t understand him because the humming felt louder.

“Judge’ll come to town soon. If there’s any mistake, he’ll be out quick as a New York minute.”

“What?”

“Ain’t you understanding me?” the tall man said. “Can’t you speak English, woman?”

“You’re arresting my brother,” I said.

“You got it.”

“Because you say there’s a Montana warrant out for him.”

“Yes’m.”

“But that’s not true. The charges were dismissed.”

“That’s not what the computer says. And, ma’am, aside from that, there’s the matter of the taillight.” And he pointed. While Tolliver stayed where he was, I edged carefully around the car, keeping a safe distance from the deputy. The taillight was smashed.

“It was okay when we went in the store,” I said.