Darren stood over her at the desk, feeling the heat from the fire lick from the toes of his boots up toward his thighs. He was trying to make sense of what she’d said when he heard footsteps behind him, caught the smell of English Leather.

“Roger, thank God,” she said, coming around the desk. She walked to Roger, reaching to clasp both his hands in hers. “He just barged in here.”

“Ranger Mathews, I’m afraid if you don’t have a warrant of some kind signed by a Marion County judge, I’m going to ask you to leave the premises.”

But Darren didn’t leave. In fact, he didn’t move. He was playing her words over and over. Or he goes to prison. The only way Darren could figure Leroy Page was going to prison was if the charges were really true, if no one ever found her grandson alive and well.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Rosemary said, returning to her desk. She pressed an intercom button on her landline and barked the word, “Now.”

Darren thought she was alerting Mary that Roger had arrived, but some animal aspect of his brain was already at work, knew this didn’t make any sense. A moment later a bulky silhouette filled the door frame, and Roger made a squeal-like sound and hollered, “I can’t be here. Goddamn it, Rosemary, I can’t be here for this.” He ducked out of the room just as Bo, Gil Thomason’s red-bearded neighbor, burst in. He stormed past Rosemary, lifted Darren, and slammed him onto the desk, causing papers to slide and the silver letter opener to poke Darren’s back. He could admit a split second of utter shock. He’d never had a man disregard the fact of his badge with such verve and clear abandon, absent any fear. The guy got in a few licks across Darren’s face before Darren could unholster his Colt and stab it into the man’s gut. It brought the immense weight off of him, allowed Darren to breathe again as the man stood.

“You’re not going to shoot this boy,” Rosemary said to Darren, “not in this county, not in my house, and get away with it. I paid for Steve Quinn’s campaign. Both of them. And Bo here’s got you on tape threatening white citizens out in Hopetown. Your reputation of frequently acting outside the bounds of law precedes you and leaves me a kind of creativity in explaining what went on here tonight. That ought to scare you into sitting your ass down about all of this here in my town that doesn’t concern you, hear? You shoot Bo, and I’ll say it was unprovoked. I’ll say you hollered Whitey or Cracker or any other damn thing. It’s time for you to go now, Ranger Mathews. I want you to leave my home and my town.”