Clark’s cell buzzed. She slipped it far enough from her pocket to see the name on the screen. She swallowed her anger. “Excuse me, Sheriff,” she said. “It’s my father’s home.”

It was Joel. She stepped into the woman’s restroom.

“Luke Evers wasn’t home Friday night.” Joel didn’t bother with hello. “Where did he say he was?”

Clark ran her mind over all the alibis the boys had given them on Tuesday. “He went home to his mother straight after the game. We followed up with her—she said he was in by ten forty.”

“T-Bay Baskin, the tall kid on the defensive line—you know him?”

“Of course. He was at home on Friday night too. We checked.”

“Precisely. Which is how he knows that Luke Evers wasn’t.” Earlier this morning Clark had heard a calm in Joel’s voice she didn’t trust, the quiet of a coiled spring. It had gotten tighter. “T-Bay’s family, apparently they live down the street from the Evers place—the guy can see Luke’s driveway from his upstairs window. T-Bay told Kimbra Lott he was up late with Whiskey Brazos on the Xbox and by the time they fell asleep at four o’clock Luke’s truck still wasn’t parked at his family’s house. T-Bay said he noticed because Luke’s mother is so ‘psycho’—his word, not mine—she never lets Luke stay out late. T-Bay even mentioned to Whiskey that Luke would have hell to pay when he came home. Luke lied to you, Clark. And his family fucking covered for him.”

“Or T-Bay lied to get Luke in the shitter.”

“Why would he lie?”

“Why would Luke kill Dylan?”

“You saw how the two of them were fighting at the game. Those kids had bad blood.”

“They could have been disagreeing on a play.”

“Can you talk to Luke? Shake him a little?”

“I’m not shaking anybody,” she said, then added, “They’re putting me back on street duty. It’s a wild day over here.”

Joel was silent for a moment. “Then I’ll talk to him.”

“No!” She nearly shouted it. “Christ, Joel, that kid’s parents are richer than God. Do you have any idea what his father would do if he heard you came near his boy?”

“It would just be a conversation. Nothing scandalous.”

Clark did not care for Joel’s tone of voice at all. She also doubted she could stop him if he set his mind to something crazy. She made a decision. “Give me a couple hours. Let me settle things here. We’ll figure out a way I can talk to Luke, somewhere private where he won’t feel any pressure.”

“Fine.”

Clark made to hang up, but something in the silence on the line made her stop.

“Is there something else?”

“I wish there wasn’t.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I found out what the Bison were passing around at halftime.”

Her phone buzzed against her ear. She put Joel on hold, opened the message he’d sent, paused. It was a URL with a name she vaguely recognized. She opened it.