“Good. Wake him up. I’ll take it in my office.” He walked past her desk and through the doorway, gulping down his lukewarm coffee and tossing the cup in the wastebasket next to his desk. Moments later, Carol called out that Chet was on the line. Brad picked up the phone. “Hey, Chet. How’s it going? I thought we should talk.”

“I know why you’re calling me at this hour! You can’t intimidate me! You can’t shut me up!”

Brad sighed. “I’m not trying to shut you up or intimidate you, Chet. I’m calling to talk some common sense.”

“You murdered Carl, and I’ll have your job for it! I’m already consulting lawyers!”

Even though his brother had killed himself and Chet probably wasn’t really talking to lawyers, Brad knew enough to leave the subject of Carl alone. But he wasn’t about to have this blowhard spread conspiracy theories about the B of A deaths on his radio show. The situation was weird enough that those theories might actually stick, and more than ever before, clear-headedness was needed on behalf of both the department and the public. They couldn’t afford to let this thing get out of hand and start a panic.

“I’m actually calling about the murder of Glen Taggart and the bodies we found in that meadow out by the transfer station. I heard you were discussing them on your program last night.”

Chet wasn’t about to let his brother’s suicide go.

“I know you’re claiming he shot himself—”

“He did, Chet. I was there. I saw it. I tried to stop him.”

“Even if he did, it wouldn’t have happened if you and your thugs hadn’t staged your Waco raid! You know, there’s a new bank in town, Neth, and they’re not going to be hiring you to do their dirty business. The Gestapo hold you and Montgomery Community have on this town is over!”

“Chet…”

“And I don’t have to talk to you, either! I know my rights, and I will not be badgered by you or your jackbooted minions!”

There was a sudden dial tone, and Brad replaced the receiver in its cradle. He was pretty sure that Chet had not merely hung up but had slammed down his phone. Rather than smooth the waters, his call had made things worse, and he had no doubt that the radio show tonight would consist of an exhortation for Chet’s “army” to resist any and all efforts by the sheriff’s department to solicit cooperation in catching Taggart’s killer.

There was a knock on his doorframe, and Brad looked up to see Carol standing there.

“I saw that you were off the line.”

“And?” he prodded.

She motioned for him to follow her, and he stood, walking out to her desk, where she gestured toward her computer. “I got this email.”