The locals in Forrest City, Arkansas, got tipped that the Byrd Gang may have stopped off at a place called Gage Auto early yesterday with a busted belt on their minivan. Lillie Virgil and Charlie Hodge headed that way the next afternoon, meeting up with Bubba Gage himself at his place a half mile off I-40. Bubba excited like hell to meet them, offering up some bitter coffee and a whole load of BS on just how keen his mind had been identifying the crew. They were quick and shifty. The black kid trying to screw him down a whole fifty dollars. But he didn’t take their mess.

“How’d they pay?” Lillie asked.

“Cash,” Bubba said, scratching at his cheek. “Wouldn’t take a credit card if they tried. You know it’d be stolen. What’s that boy’s name again?”

“Ladarius McCade.”

“Yeah,” he said. “He done most of the talking. Real cocky like he knowed more about cars than me. Shit. Kid looked barely old enough to drive. Had bleach blond afro and sported a few earrings. Peeled off that cash like he’d earned every dollar himself.”

“Maybe he did.”

“TV outta Memphis called that boy a felon,” he said. “Ain’t that right? That’s what they are. Right? Crew of thieving-ass kids.”

“Sure,” Lillie said, looking over at Charlie Hodge. “If it was really them.”

Charlie walked up beside Lillie and showed the man Ladarius’s last booking photo from his phone and then scrolled through to a few pictures of TJ. Bubba stepped back, cocked his neck to get him a better view, and nodded. He was a tall, thick guy with a lot of black hair and grease on his split knuckles. He might’ve been half-decent-looking if someone would hose him off.

“Yep,” Bubba said. “That’s the boy. Not too sure on that white girl, the one who killed her momma. There was two of them. Just like that gang. And a little kid asking a whole bunch of questions, those girls telling him to sit still, be quiet while they watched that Paternity Court.”

“Did they say anything about where they were headed?” Charlie asked.

“Last I seen them, the two girls and that kid crossed the road to the Walmart,” Bubba Gage said, leaning back into a wobbly little office chair. The office portion of Gage Auto was housed in a small metal shed next to the big, open garage. The walls decorated with photos of great moments of the Gage Auto softball team and a few real nuggets of wisdom like we share pride in your ride, trust is our biggest asset, and real men provide and real women appreciate it. “I told that boy he was damn lucky they didn’t blow up their damn engine. They shoulda called a wrecker when they throwed that belt.”

“Sure they were headed to the Walmart?” Lillie asked.