“Trust me,” Chastity said. “We can make a few new posts, too. Light’s too damn bad right now. I don’t want to mess up our next big step. This is the post where you introduce me as your new partner in crime. Once you explained what happened with that asshole Chester Pratt, I joined the TJ Byrd movement. A big push by young folks to get heard and be listened to. That’s it? Right? That’s what makes you so important. You got framed for killing your own mother but had to run because no one would listen. But all that’s about to change. Once you’re cleared, you’ll be famous. And I’ll make sure you stay famous.”

“And what if your plan turns to shit?”

“Gas up my daddy’s boat and cut over to the Yucatán, baby,” Chastity said. “Party city. I know people there, too. I hooked up with a bartender at an all-inclusive last Christmas with my family. I told him I was eighteen. His name is Pablo and he’d do anything in the world for me.”

TJ nodded and leaned back into her seat, looking through the windshield splattered with raindrops. “Fine,” she said. “But we need more money.”

“That’s nothing,” Chastity said. “Leave that all up to me.”

*   *   *

Some rough weather blew into Tibbehah County that night, making Quinn and Boom late for supper at Quinn’s mother’s house. There had been a nasty accident on the road to Burnt Oak, two kids out joyriding had turned over their truck in a drainage ditch. Both were okay, but one had busted up his leg pretty bad. Boom had been out along Highway 45, pulling a county vehicle from where it had skidded from the road and dove deep into some mud. He and Quinn looked worse for wear when they’d showed up. Quinn took Boom’s jacket, splattered in mud, and hung it out in the hallway as Jean fixed them each a warm plate.

Jean sat Boom next to Raven Yancy in the fancy dining room. The two both politely taking the set-up in stride. Maggie had told Quinn that Raven was seeing a cardiologist from Oxford. And Boom was still pining for a hotshit federal agent named Nat Wilkins.

“Not much has changed,” Jean said. “You boys always late for supper.”

“A sheriff can do a lot,” Quinn said. “But damn if I can’t fix the weather.”

“You might’ve called.”

Quinn bowed his head and said a quick prayer over his plate. He cut his eyes over at Boom, and Boom grinned. Quinn mumbling, “Yes, ma’am.”