“Some bad folks,” Quinn said. “If you do know them, or have contact with them, contact me first.”

“What kind of cuts?” Raven said.

“Stab wounds,” Maggie said. “Deep-tissue puncture wound or it might just be an infected laceration. They’d come in needing drainage, maybe wound debridement.”

“Hmm,” Raven said, smiling down at Halley’s sleeping face. “Can’t think of anything right offhand. Cut folks usually come in around the holidays. Someone getting testy about the turkey. But I’ll ask around, maybe call out to some of the rural clinics, too.”

“Appreciate that,” Quinn said.

“This has something to do with Gina Byrd,” Raven asked. “Right?”

“Maybe,” Quinn said.

Maggie narrowed her eyes at Quinn and shook her head. “She might as well know everything,” she said. “If you can’t trust my best friend, who can you trust?”

Quinn nodded, cell phone buzzing next to his coffee tumbler. It was Reggie Caruthers and he pressed mute as he answered Raven. “I think two men attacked Gina Byrd before she was reported missing,” Quinn said. “One of them might’ve been stabbed. It would’ve been bad enough that Gina got away from them.”

“ ’Least for a while,” Raven said.

Maggie swaddled Halley deeper into a soft blue blanket, a beanie with earflaps snug on her head. Maggie had knitted both the blanket and the beanie for her.

“If you find those men attacked Gina,” Raven said, “you think those kids might be innocent?”

“That’s the idea,” Quinn said.

“Ladarius McCade is my second cousin,” Raven said. “He’s a good kid. Gets in trouble but wouldn’t ever hurt no one. You know the type?”

“I used to be the type,” Quinn said.

Raven stepped off the running board, arms hugging herself tight as the scrubs fluttered around her. “I’ll do all I can,” she said.

“Dinner soon?” Maggie asked.

“What y’all cooking?” Raven said.

“Maybe some tofu power bowls,” she said. “With brown rice.”

“My mother cooks for us, too,” Quinn said. “Chicken and dumplings with some peach cobbler for dessert.”

“Sorry, Maggie,” she said. “But that’s what I’m talking about. Count me in.”

*   *   *

“I’m hungry,” John Wesley said.

“We’re all hungry, kid,” Chastity said. “But we can’t go out. Not till it’s dark.”

“Why not?” John Wesley asked.

TJ came out of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel and drying off her hair as Ladarius gave her a nice once-over. Four people and two single beds. Not much for privacy here at the Tri-State Motel in Texarkana.

“Lots of people looking for us,” TJ said. “We just need to be careful.”

“Bad people?” he asked.

“Not bad,” TJ said. “But not good for us. We’ll get something to eat a little later. Just rest up now.”

“I don’t want to rest,” he said. “This place sucks. Smells like puke and piss in here.”

“Hush your mouth.”