“Gentlemen—and I’m using that term facetiously—I’ve heard some bullshit in my day. But I have never heard such unadulterated crap as that.”

Sheriff Byrd’s face darkens. “That’s the way it is, bud.”

Ignoring Billy, I walk up to Shad’s desk, take the photo out of my coat pocket, unfold it, and lay it on the polished wood.

“Imagine that under a thirty-point headline, Shad. And I’m not talking about the Concordia Beacon or the Natchez Examiner. I’m talking about USA Today. The New York Times. The Trib, back in your old stomping ground.”

Shad’s throat clicks as he swallows.

“Look at your face, Shad. It would take one hell of a lawyer to sell that look as duty.”

His eyes remain on the picture for several seconds. Then he slowly composes himself and looks up at me. “You heard the sheriff.”

“Does revenge on me really mean that much to you? You’ll risk everything for it?”

Without lowering his eyes, he turns the photo facedown on the desk.

“Billy,” I say softly, “will you swear to your story in court?”

“You’re damn right I will.”

At last I look at him. “Perjury. Is that a new low for you? Or just an old habit?”

Byrd comes halfway out of his chair, then slowly settles back into it. He’s not used to being talked to like that. Not twice in one day, anyway, I think, recalling Jack Kilgard’s tirade on my parents’ sidewalk.

“Your day’s comin’, son,” he growls. “I’ve got all the records I need to prove what I told you.”

“I’ll bet you do. I’ll bet you worked on them all last night, over a fifth of Jack Daniel’s. You and Shad both. Only he drank pinot noir, right?”

The sheriff stands and steps toward me, but Shad stops him with an upraised hand. Some power dynamic exists between these two men that I don’t fully understand.

“The upshot of all this is simple,” Shad tells me. “The photograph you brought with you is merely a record of activities I undertook as an undercover officer for Sheriff Byrd—and for myself, obviously, as the senior law enforcement officer in the county.”

“You’re a disgrace to this office. That’s what you are.”

But Shad has regained his unruffled mien. “I know it’s a shock to find out that we’re back on a level playing field, but that’s politics, isn’t it? Change is the only constant.”

Byrd snickers, then says, “Your daddy shoulda wore a rubber when he screwed that hot chocolate back in the day.”