The sheriff squints at me for several seconds, then gestures at the bone on his desk. “You still haven’t told me how that connects to this. How ’bout you tell me why you and Jimmy Olsen here needed an escort home last night? What were you afraid of?”

I look at Henry, but the reporter shakes his head.

“So that’s how it is,” says the sheriff. “Then I guess neither of you can tell me why the FBI showed up at the hospital morgue and took possession of Glenn Morehouse’s body this morning?”

Henry and I look at each other in shock.

“Yep,” says Dennis. “They transported that corpse to the Belle Chasse Naval Air Station, on Lake Pontchartrain. Which is strange, because last time I checked, murder was a state crime.”

Henry and I solve this mystery simultaneously: his call to Special Agent John Kaiser must have produced this result.

“You want to know what we were afraid of last night?” I ask softly.

Dennis nods.

“The Double Eagle group. Snake Knox and Sonny Thornfield, for example.”

“And Forrest Knox,” Henry adds.

Dennis sits up straight, both hands held in front of him. “Hold it right there. Listen to me, men. Forrest Knox is the director of the Criminal Investigations Bureau of the state police. If you’ve got a problem with him, you need to take it up with him—not a lowly sheriff in a poor parish like this one. I’ve been in this job exactly five and a half weeks. I’ve spent day and night trying to put this department back together after the explosion that Penn here caused when he busted that casino boat, or gambling syndicate, or whatever it was. And that’s almost more than I can handle.”

Before Henry can say anything, I ask, “Have you heard that my father’s been charged with murder?”

The sheriff gives me a sober nod.

“He’s being framed, Walker.”

“That, I believe.”

“The victim was the sister of Jimmy Revels, who died with Luther Davis. Jimmy’s bones may be down under that convertible with Luther’s, not five miles from here. Henry’s not going to give up his sources, but I’ll tell you this: the Double Eagles killed Revels and Davis, and they killed Viola Turner, too. My father’s not going to jail for those bastards. I’m going to squeeze until one of them pops and gives up Viola’s killer.”

I stand and lift the bone fragment from the desk. “If you won’t help me, I’ll go to the DEA and the FBI. But I’d prefer to work with you. I told Henry you’re a stand-up guy, and I still believe that. This is your chance to make a difference, Walker. To show people they were right to put you in this job. And all you have to do is enforce the law.”