“About an hour ago, Wilma left her house. I was out mulching my zinnia beds, and she spoke to me as she passed. Said she was headed to Tallulah on some errand for Glenn. After she left, as I was going back into my house, another vehicle came up the road—headed in, not out. I figured it was probably a sitter coming to stay with Glenn. But when it got closer, I recognized it. The owner goes to the same church I do.”

“Who was it, Sandy?”

“That reporter for the Beacon—Henry Sexton.”

Sonny rolled off the creeper and sat up with a grunt. “Are you sure?”

“Positive. I shielded my eyes as he passed, and I saw his mustache and goatee. It was Henry, all right.”

Sonny’s chest had gone tight. “Is he still down there?”

“Mm-hm. I walked out to my mailbox, and I could just see the tail end of his Explorer sticking out from behind Wilma’s house. I wouldn’t have bothered you, but Snake told me to keep an eye out for anything funny down there. I tried to call Snake, but he didn’t answer, so I figured I’d best call you.”

“You did right, hon.” Sonny steeled himself against the pain in his arthritic knees, then struggled to his feet. “We won’t forget you.”

He could almost hear Sandra blush. “Aw, ya’ll don’t need to do anything for me. I’m glad to help. I know Glenn’s getting pretty close to the end, and he might not be quite right in his mind, you know?”

“That I do. You call me back when Sexton leaves, and double-check to be sure it was him. Okay?”

“Will do, Sonny. I got nothing else to occupy me.”

Sonny ignored the hint. “Thanks, Sandy.” He clicked END, then speed-dialed Snake. After five rings, he expected to get voice mail, but then Snake picked up.

“What’s up?” he asked in a sleepy croak.

“Did Sandra Williams just call you?”

“Hell, yeah. I’m still half asleep. I didn’t have the patience to listen to her bitch about the pickaninnies from that apartment complex walking across her property to get to the Walmart.”

“That wasn’t why she called. I think we got trouble, pard. Sandy says Henry Sexton is down at Wilma’s talking to Glenn, and Wilma’s not there.”

“Shit. Right now?”

“Yep. What you got on tap?”

“I’m supposed to fly down to Baton Rouge and make a pickup.”

Snake was referring to a bulk load of ether in transit from Mexico, something Sonny didn’t like moving in his cars. “I’m in the middle of work myself. Just had two cars delivered from auction.”

Snake grunted to acknowledge that he understood Sonny’s actual meaning.

“But I think we’d better go see Billy Knox,” Sonny added. “Don’t you?”