Henry Sexton just assaulted outside the Beacon. In bad shape. In Mercy Hospital ER. Nothing u can do there for now. My home line will be busy. Perps stole some of Henry’s files. Come here if u need to talk. Sorry.

As soon as the “Message Sent” confirmation appears, I call Drew Elliott, a local internist and one of my father’s younger partners. I dial his cell phone to circumvent the answering machine that, along with his wife, screens his home calls.

“Hey, Penn. Been a while. Tom okay?”

“I think so. Do you have privileges at the Ferriday hospital?”

“I do, actually. Why?”

“A good friend of mine was just stabbed and beaten. He’s over there in the ER. I just told Sheriff Walker Dennis you were his doctor.”

“You what?”

“Dad treated him when he was a boy, but now he doesn’t have a doctor. But he needs help, and I’m asking you to see him, as a favor to me.”

“He’s in the Ferriday ER, you say?”

“Yeah. It’s Henry Sexton, the reporter.”

Drew takes a few seconds with this. “The guy who writes those stories about the KKK?”

“Yep.”

Drew grunts like a man getting to his feet. “Okay, I’m on my way. I’ll give you a call as soon as I’ve assessed him.”

“Thanks. Do whatever you think is necessary. I don’t know if he has insurance, but I’ll cover any costs he can’t pay.”

“I hear you. Let me get going.”

“Just a second, Drew. How did Dad seem to you at the clinic today?”

I hear Drew breathing as he walks. “Same as ever, I guess, considering. I didn’t see that much of him. I rarely do, unless I make a point to walk down to his end of the office for a consult. That murder mess isn’t really going to trial, is it?”

“I hope not, but it could. I’ll tell you about that another time.”

“Okay. I’ll let you know how Henry is.”

Before I have time to second-guess myself, I hang up and call Information for the number of the New Orleans field office of the FBI. Using the automatic connect option, I watch Annie as I await the first ring. She’s still watching me so intently that I wonder if she’s blinked even once.

“FBI,” says a female voice. “New Orleans Field Office.”

“I’m trying to reach Special Agent John Kaiser. The situation is urgent. My name is Penn Cage.”

“Agent Kaiser is not in the building, sir.”

“Can you get him a message? This could be life or death.”

“What was your name again?”

“Penn Cage. I’m the mayor of Natchez, Mississippi. Three men just tried to kill one of Agent Kaiser’s confidential informants. Please take my telephone number.”