“Everybody’s luck runs out eventually. And remember, Snake is his own worst enemy. He likes the spotlight. Once this trial starts, he may not be able to control himself. You think he can just sit somewhere and let this circus unfold? With national TV coverage every day? I don’t know how Snake was tied in to Viola—or even to my father—but sooner or later, he’s going to come sniffing around that trial.”

“We’ll be watching.”

“Meanwhile, I’m going to try to think of a way to draw him out.”

Kaiser looks worried. “Don’t do anything stupid. Use your brain, not your heart.”

“Go in there and look at that girl, John. She’s twenty-five, and she’s going to be blind for the rest of her life.”

“Christ.”

“Drew says she may die. It was hydrofluoric acid.”

“Goddamn. I know what that can do.”

“She’s one of the good guys, man. One of us. A kid. Are we just going to sit here and take this shit?”

Kaiser reaches out and squeezes my upper arm. “Sometimes that’s our only choice. That’s part of being the good guys.”

I say nothing.

“I’d like nothing better than to go to war with these assholes. But we can’t even be sure who did this.”

I do not share Kaiser’s view. In my mind I see the smug visage of Snake Knox while Kaiser and I tried to interrogate him in the Concordia Parish Sheriff’s Office. He made us look like fools that day.

“Penn?”

“I’ll see you, John. Please let me know if you learn anything.”

The FBI man watches me carefully as I walk away, headed for the corner that will lead me to my car.

“Hey!” he calls. “Don’t you have a bodyguard?”

“Tim’s with the girls. I’ll text him to meet me at the car.”

“Are you carrying?”

The reassuring weight of my pistol rides my left ankle as I walk. “Never without it now.”

Kaiser nods, then sends me off with a mock salute.

I do text Tim, but not to meet me at my car. I tell him that I’ll be busy with Kaiser for some while, and that I want him to take Mia and Annie back home for the time being. As his reply comes in, I spy Jamie Lewis, the editor of the Natchez Examiner, about twenty feet from my Audi, walking toward the hospital.

“Jamie!” I call.

He waves and approaches me. “I’ve been on the phone with Caitlin’s father. He’s going to up the security for all of us. He’s flagellating himself for not doing it sooner.”

I can’t imagine what kind of agony John Masters must be putting himself through over this attack.

“Seeing Keisha like that is going to kill her brother,” Jamie says.

“The Auburn football player? You know him?”