Mary Beth was stunned. It seemed impossible that she’d never heard about a tragedy of that magnitude. Were the people who knew about it trying to protect her—or themselves?

“They both died. The woman wasn’t hurt. She hid in the room while the men argued outside. Then there was the fight. The deputies dragged her out—she was shrieking and clawing at them, like she thought they’d hurt her.”

Mary Beth was horrified. “How did you know that?” It wasn’t the kind of detail that would appear in the newspaper.

“I was there.”

A profound silence enveloped them. The white bird stalked away out of sight but Mary Beth didn’t see it go.

“How old were you, Parr?”

“Twelve.”

Mary Beth chose her next words carefully. “And how did you happen to be at the motel?”

“I have to backtrack. I knew how to drive at that age.”

That was no big deal. A lot of country kids did, especially boys.

“I was tall for twelve, never got pulled over. I didn’t drive crazy or show off, ever. So this older boy we knew would let me borrow one of the beater cars he fixed up now and then.”

“But why—”

He held up a hand. “I’m getting to that. Have patience, Mary Beth.”

The clear, reflected light filling the truck’s cab showed the lines on his face. The memories he was reliving made him seem suddenly older than his years.

“I knew my dad was fooling around with someone,” he went on. “Just not who. Mother didn’t have a clue. She thought he could do no wrong.” A bitter edge crept into his voice. “So that night, when he told her he was going out to play poker, I happened to have the car parked down by the corner. He didn’t see me come out the alley when he was backing out. I caught up with him but he didn’t notice. I followed him all the way out to that goddamned motel.”

Mary Beth listened. She wasn’t sure if Parr would finish the story.

“I parked my car a couple spaces down from his. It was pretty quiet. I wasn’t sure which room he was in, either. I was about to turn around and go home when this other car came roaring in and a man got out.

“I ducked down when I saw the gun in his hand. He was yelling and pounding on doors—sweet Jesus, I was scared to death. But I looked up when he went past me. Then my dad opened the door right in front of my car. He ran out and got the guy in a hammerlock, tried to get the gun away from him.” He stopped. “Guess he was trying to protect her or something.”