Quinn wasn’t sure how hard to push Chester, not sure he was ready to lay out everything he knew. He figured the best way was to take it casual and easy, act like he just had a few innocent questions that maybe Chester could answer for him. Quinn tapped at the cigar ash and took a draw, letting the smoke curl into the ceiling and the silence hang in the air. The cigar was a nice Undercrown, bold and spicy on his lips.

“She was angry,” Pratt said. “Unbalanced mentally. Did you know she carried her dead daddy’s pistol with her? A little .38 that she wore on her hip up under those sloppy old flannel shirts. Just in case you get to cornering her, I’m warning you that the girl won’t go down without a fight. No, sir. Don’t let her cute little face and pug nose fool you. That girl is definitely Jerry Jeff Valentine’s kid. Meaner than hell.”

Quinn wondered exactly how far Chester would fly back on his heels when it got down to his business and personal finances. He drew on the cigar again as the sun started to shine a little through the dark clouds and yellowed the old hardwood floors. He looked to Reggie and Reggie nodded back, the two working together so long they could read their thoughts.

“I heard TJ recently came into some money,” Reggie said.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Jerry Jeff’s mother died in the care of a nursing home in Corinth,” Quinn said. “Some kind of insurance settlement with the family?”

“Gina may have mentioned something about it,” Chester said. “I don’t think it was much money. Whatever it was.”

“We heard it was around twenty-five thousand dollars,” Reggie said.

“That a fact?”

Quinn nodded. He’d seen the cashed check from Jericho First National yesterday. The money coming from a law firm in Tupelo that specialized in settlements and payouts on lawsuits and the like. He wasn’t exactly sure how Gina got the money out of TJ’s trust and into her account, but it appeared the firm had taken a sizable chunk to get it released.

“Maybe that’s why they ran off like they did,” Pratt said. “Wind at their back, dreams of living wild and free on her mawmaw’s death money.”

“I don’t think TJ ever saw a dime,” Quinn said.

Chester nodded, fumbled a bit with the phone in his hand, absently scrolling through messages. He wouldn’t keep eye contact with Quinn, acting like meeting with the sheriff was just a momentary inconvenience. Quinn looked over to Reggie and Reggie shook his head slightly, recognizing Chester for being Chester.

“Something important?” Quinn asked.

“Nope,” he said. “No, sir. Just hoping to get word on those kids. I spent the morning with Pastor Quick. Half the town is praying they get caught and don’t hurt no one else.”