“Meanest lawyer in Memphis,” Lillie said.

“You know him?”

“He’s a real bastard but kind of a friend.”

“I can’t afford this.”

Lillie nodded. “I know,” she said. “Give him a call on Monday. He’ll get you out by the end of the day. Make sure to play up your leg hurting to the judge.”

“It does hurt.”

“You’re doing it already,” Lillie said. “I just might shed a tiny tear.”

Ladarius smiled big, holding the card tight in his left hand. One of the kids from the basketball court hit an amazing shot, the other kids yelling and talking shit. She could tell Ladarius wanted to join them if his leg wasn’t still so mangled.

“Why you doing this?”

“That’s easy,” Lillie said. “Because I said I would.”

“Nothing more.”

“Not a damn thing, kid.”

*   *   *

Johnny Stagg walked out of Frontier Village, the front entrance covered with red, white, and blue balloons, one of those big inflatable dancing men rocking to and fro in the parking lot, beckoning in the family travelers off Highway 45. Outside, he spotted a middle-aged man with graying hair and sad brown eyes, standing talking to some woman and two teenage girls. All them laughing and laughing at something he’d said. The man’s hand rested on one of the girl’s bare arms, a real light touch.

Lovemaiden followed and stood by Stagg as the man turned to him. He was wearing a gray fleece sweater, some of those fancy jeans with nice stitching, and high-dollar ankle boots. He had leather bracelets on his wrists and kept the humbled expression of a man who liked to tell folks about his grand and great adventures with his old buddy Jesus Christ. Oh, hell. Stagg didn’t ask any questions. But he did respect the man for all he’d done up in Memphis after his most humble beginnings down here in Tibbehah County.

“Sheriff,” Stagg said. “This is Pastor Ben Quick. I know you mentioned you’d been wanting to meet him.”

“Yes, sir,” Lovemaiden said, sticking out his hand. “Me and my wife come to see you last Easter at your service up in Memphis. And we watched them Bible studies you got online, too. I love that one you have about generosity and love. How random acts of kindness can come on back to you like a gosh-darn boomerang. You ain’t giving nothing away. It’s all gonna come out to roost. Help all of us prosper.”

“That’s the idea, Sheriff,” he said, shaking his hand. “Sure is an honor to meet you.”

“I ain’t no one,” Lovemaiden said. “Just a humble servant.”

“Aren’t we all,” Pastor Quick said, his face all lit up like Christmas morning, taking in the new Frontier Village, the bustling Rebel Truck Stop, and the big Tibbehah Cross planted huge and tall on the hill by Ole Man Skinner. Lord bless his crooked and wretched ole soul.