“You got me,” Chastity said, breaking free of the post and walking over to TJ. She grasped the girl’s small hands and put them onto her shoulders. “Listen. People are already looking for me. People want me. If folks won’t listen, I can help you get the truth and get us both money. Money for me to live my own life and money for y’all to get far, far away from here.”

“I don’t want to run anymore.”

“You call driving from north Mississippi to Hot Springs running?” Chastity broke free and touched her index finger on her lips. “Do you really have a gun?”

“ ’Course I do,” the country girl said, reaching into her other pocket, showing her a little pistol.

“Can you hold it on me while you explain your demands?” she said. “Real mean. Convincing. Wave it around like you’re crazy as hell.”

“I don’t have any goddamn demands,” TJ said. “Only the truth.”

“If you got Chastity Bloodgood, the whole world will listen,” Chastity said. “Be in charge, TJ Byrd. Control the conversation. I learned that from my father. When you have something that people really want and desire, they’ll do anything in the world to get it.”

“I don’t see how kidnapping you is going to improve our situation.”

“What can I say?” Chastity said. “I’m an attention-grabber. Once folks are listening, you can sell them on any story you want. Say you didn’t want to do it. But it was the only way. I don’t know. Just some shit like that. You’re a good talker. I’ve seen you do it with your gang. Some real inspirational shit.”

“We’re not a gang,” she said. “That’s all made up.”

“Well,” Chastity said, widening her eyes and smiling. “You are now. No other choice. That’s what you tell the world. They left you but no other choice than to hold me hostage until this Chester Pratt tells the damn truth.”

SIXTEEN

Saw you on television this morning,” Quinn said. “That must’ve been tough. Talking about what happened to Gina?”

“You bet, Sheriff,” Chester Pratt said. “Brought up some rough emotions for me. Whew-wee. I had a rock in my throat so big I could barely talk.”

“Is that a fact?”

“Yes, sir,” Pratt said, sitting across from Quinn at the sheriff’s office. Looking contrite and small in the hard office chair that creaked as he crossed his legs. “But I figured it was best for the public to know about the youthful menace out there roaming free.”

“Funny thing,” Quinn said. “I never heard that story before, about how TJ Byrd threatened your life. Why didn’t you mention it to me?”

Reggie Caruthers hung loose by the closed door, arms crossed and listening after starting a recording of the meeting. Cigar smoke floated thick in the air, as Quinn hadn’t cared to open a window or turn on a fan.