His secretary was a straight arrow, and she was not amused to hear me demand to be put straight through to Art. But after she checked with her boss, I heard his booming southern voice, and the dreadful tension that had gripped me eased off a fraction.

“Where are you, honeychild?” Art asked.

“Sarne, Arkansas.”

“My God almighty, what the hell are you doing there?”

I almost smiled. “We had a case here. But there were complications. When we came out of the auto parts store, there was this asshole deputy waiting to arrest Tolliver.” I explained about the open warrants and the broken taillight.

“Hmmm. So, Tolliver is in jail?”

“Yes.” That was way too close to a whine. I gripped the cell phone so tightly my fingers were white.

“You’re there all by yourself, darlin’?”

“Yes.”

“That’s not good. Of course Tolliver’s not wanted in Montana. We got that all cleared up. He couldn’t be arrested for a broken taillight, so the cop trumped up something else for some reason.”

That really wasn’t the point I’d make if I were defending Tolliver, but I was glad to talk to someone who took Tolliver’s innocence for granted.

“Are you going to be able to handle this, sweet thing?” Art’s voice was very gentle, but also brisk, as if he expected a quick answer.

“Yes, I’ll be fine,” I said, pretty sure I was lying.

“That means you’re going to try real hard,” Art translated.

“Yep.”

“Good for you, darlin’. Tell you what, I know a lawyer in Little Rock who can drive up there and steer you through this. Her name is Phyllis Folliette. Write that down, now.”

There was nothing wrong with my memory, but I did write it down, along with the lawyer’s phone number.

“I’m calling her as soon as I hang up the phone with you, and she’ll be in touch with you right away, or at least very soon.”

“That’s good,” I said. “That’s real good. Listen, Art? They can’t open packages we were sending via UPS, can they?”

“No,” he said. “I guess they’d have to have a warrant to do that.” Then he told me to call him if I needed anything more and hung up.

I was hoping that Bledsoe didn’t know what we were doing at the auto parts store; he hadn’t gone inside to enquire while I was standing there, and he hadn’t asked me. So maybe sending off the hair samples hadn’t been the trigger for Tolliver’s arrest. Maybe there had been something else.

Harvey Branscom, while not my favorite guy, had seemed like a pretty independent fellow to me, and one who knew his business. Why would he consent to be part of the charade outside the auto parts store? Who could influence him so heavily? He had to know what his deputy was doing.