The messages sweet and dirty. All about love and forever mixed in with some up close and personal titty pics. Seemed like the titty pics were what put this Graham guy over the damn edge, messaging two nights ago, i have to see you or i might die.

Lillie let Charlie Hodge drive the Charger that night, and he’d just gotten off at an exit in Natchitoches. They hadn’t eaten all damn day and the road had graced them with a decent-looking restaurant called Fontenot’s Cajun Café. Lillie had been dreaming of a shrimp po’ boy ever since they crossed the state line.

Her phone buzzed just as they were headed into the café. Seeing it was Quinn Colson, she took the call. She motioned for Charlie to go on in without her. Charlie saluted her and disappeared into the restaurant.

“This better be good,” Lillie said. “I haven’t eaten in twenty-four hours or showered in forty-eight.”

“It’s good,” Quinn said. “I got an ID on the men I’m pretty sure killed Gina Byrd.”

“Hell,” Lillie said. “I just might jump for joy. But Charlie and I just stopped in to get a bite to eat. Can I call you back?”

“There’s more.”

“There’s always more,” Lillie said. “What you got, Ranger?”

“Where are you?”

“Natchitoches Parish,” Lillie said. “Headed down to the Big Easy for an all-expense vacation courtesy of the U.S. Marshals Service to pick up TJ Byrd and her little brother. Might just rescue that Chastity Bloodgood from getting it on with a dopey-sounding dude named Graham.”

“You got an address?”

“What do you think?”

“I’d like to meet you down there,” Quinn said. “The situation has gotten a little more complicated.”

“You having the urge for a shrimp po’ boy, too, or do you just miss me?”

“I don’t know how and I don’t know why,” Quinn said. “But the suspects in Gina Byrd’s killing might be down there, too. They took a job to get the Bloodgood girl back.”

“Wait,” Lillie said. “What the damn hell. For who?”

“For her daddy,” Quinn said. “Chester Pratt and me had a real heart-to-heart tonight. He thinks these two fellas might kill TJ and her little brother if they get in the way.”

“Can’t a woman get a goddamn break?”

“I’ll text you,” Quinn said. “The men’s names are Flem and Dusty Nix. You can find them easy in the system. Their records light up the NCIC like a fireworks display. Arson, manslaughter, aggravated assault. The younger one was a suspect in a big murder over in Calhoun County. But they never found the body.”

“Anything else?”

“They work as roofers and both of them are so short, they couldn’t make the ride cutoff at a carnival.”

“Couple of midget killer roofers,” Lillie said. “Well fuck me, Quinn Colson. This just brightens my damn day.”

“Meet you down there.”