“‘Usually’ don’t cut it this time. Penn Cage hasn’t always been mayor of a one-horse town. He was a big-time prosecutor in Houston, and he knows people in Washington. I think we’ve reached the point of no return on Henry Sexton.”

Forrest looked over at Cherie’s breasts, which hung heavily over the sheet. She was watching him like an expectant hunting dog. “You mean you think Snake had the right idea.”

“Maybe so, yeah. I don’t want to wake up and see our names splashed across the front page of the newspaper.”

“The Beacon’s only published once a week, and the next edition’s three days from now. So stay cool. I’ll think about this and get back to you.”

“Okay, but the Natchez Examiner runs every goddamned day. And Penn Cage’s girlfriend would love to run with a story like this. There’s no telling how much Glenn Morehouse told Sexton, or what Sexton told Cage tonight.”

Cherie reached out toward Forrest’s belt again, but he slapped her hand away. He never worried about Henry Sexton, because he’d had a state police tech specialist plant a monitoring program in the Beacon’s intranet that gave him access to every story being drafted at the newspaper, often days before publication. That tech had also installed a keystroke recorder in Henry’s home computer, one that secretly transmitted everything Henry had typed in the past twenty-four hours to another cop who sifted through the reports every day. But Billy was right: Henry’s involvement with Penn Cage had opened a conduit to his girlfriend, and Forrest had no mechanism in place to monitor her.

“What’s the mayor’s family situation?” he asked.

“You remember his old man, Doc Cage. The mother’s still alive, and Penn’s sister lives in England.”

“Kids?”

“One girl, about twelve, I guess. And I think he’s engaged to the Masters girl.”

Forrest smiled with satisfaction. “Plenty of pressure points, then. I’ll get back to you.”

“Please don’t take all night, cuz. I need to make some decisions.”

“I hear you. Did you get that Buffett show arranged?”

“No. His management’s squeezing me hard on the money, and my plate’s a little full right now anyway.”

“It’s your birthday, man. Chill. I’ll chip in a quarter of the fee.”

“Seriously?”

“Talk to you later, Parrothead.”

Forrest ended the call and slid his phone back into his pocket.

As he stared at Cherie’s breasts with renewed interest, she said, “Did I tell you I saw your wife at Esplanade mall the other day?”

Ice instantly coated Forrest’s heart. He picked up his coat from the chair, knowing she hadn’t finished with this subject.