“She’s gonna help watch Halley when it’s time for Maggie to get back to the hospital,” Quinn said. “I’m glad. Hasn’t been easy on her, little Jason being gone.”

Varner didn’t answer. He looked out the window, the backward script of Lipscomb’s hand-painted on the plate glass. open since 1911. The Square was already filling up fast that morning. Nearly every storefront was occupied now, including a new coffee shop, a Vietnamese restaurant, and a mixed martial arts studio. The town looked better than Quinn could ever remember. Trees and bushes were trimmed, sidewalks fixed, and store canopies new and mended.

“Ever miss the way it was?” Varner asked.

“Nope,” Quinn said.

“Me, either. All y’all can do now is fuck it all up.”

“Appreciate the confidence in the younger generation, Luther.”

“Heard someone is gonna open up a gourmet grocery over where that old candle shop used to be.”

“Is that right?”

“Might cut into the bottom line at the Quick Mart,” Varner said. “We don’t exactly deal in nothing gourmet. You think folks will ever tire of Vienna sausages and saltines? Or a bag of cracklins with hot sauce for their lunch?”

“Around here?” Quinn said.

Varner nodded.

“Not a damn chance.”

Varner smiled a little as he lifted the coffee and took a sip.

*   *   *

Chester Pratt lived out on County Road 357 in a prefab log cabin with a green tin roof and wraparound porch. He didn’t have much property to speak of, just three acres, but what he did have was wooded and lush, with wandering turkeys and deer that would come straight up and nearly eat out of your hands. That morning he’d been so damn tired, he’d turned on the outdoor mushroom heaters and wrapped himself with a Mexican blanket, sitting there in a wicker chair and looking out in the deep woods. He sipped Pappy from a broken bottle he’d salvaged last night and drained into a Yeti cup. He nursed the bourbon, thinking on whether to stay and work out a deal with Stagg, or perhaps head down to Central America for a year or two. He’d heard that Costa Rica was a hell of a place for an American on a fixed income.