Stagg sucked at his tooth, placed a skeletal hand into his khaki pants, jingling some change. “You do that, Sheriff,” he said. “I got me some work to do.”

Stagg turned and Quinn followed him in through the busted door. Over the entrance to the diner, Quinn spotted several T-shirts in all sizes and colors pinned up along the wall. A wide yellow banner read get your tj byrd gear here. supplies limited.

Stagg stopped halfway, right near the beer cooler. He offered a big grin.

“Homegrown heroes,” he said. “Ain’t that something?”

“Is that what they are?”

“Ole Machine Gun Kelly was born and raised in Memphis,” Stagg said. “His wife Kathryn come from Saltillo. Just part of the landscape around here, son. Guilty or innocent don’t make no difference to me.”

“Kind of bad taste,” Quinn said. “Don’t you think? On account of what happened to the Byrd woman.”

Stagg shrugged, moving away from Quinn for a moment to shake a few hands. Give a laugh or two about today’s homemade pies. Chocolate and pecan. Yes, sir. Yes, sir. Midnight Man done outdid himself today. Quinn watched and waited as Johnny Stagg did Johnny Stagg, holding court at the Rebel.

“What were you saying again, Sheriff?”

“I said selling T-shirts and bumper stickers about a homicide is in poor taste.”

Stagg grinned. He scratched at his cheek and looked down at his brand-new cordovan loafers.

“Don’t you think?”

“Just a little local color,” Stagg said. “Don’t mean nothing personal by it.”

“Gina Byrd’s body was found over in Parsham.”

“Everybody knows that.”

“Heard you’ve been doing business in Parsham, Johnny,” Quinn said. “You and Sheriff Lovemaiden gotten to be real tight.”

“What if we had?” he said. “You think I know something about that killing? ’Cause I don’t. I never met those kids before in my life.”

“But you do know Chester Pratt?”

Stagg didn’t say anything. Quinn’s cell buzzed in his pocket and he declined the call. He turned to see Kenny working to take prints on the door, Reggie on the ATM itself. A brisk cold wind blowing the tape around the entrance.

“Breaks my heart,” Stagg said. “What that man’s been through.”

Quinn nodded. His cell buzzed again, noticing the same number calling back, but not recognizing it.

“Hold that thought.”

“I’ll be in my office,” Stagg said, winking. “Case you need me.”

Quinn walked toward the door and took the call, moving past Kenny and out under the portico and the gas pumps. A young woman’s voice said, “I think I got your man.”

Quinn put a finger into his left ear to hear the caller better. “Come again?”

“I said I think I got your man,” the woman’s voice said. “Deep cut. Bad infection. This is Raven, by the way.”

“Tell me.”