“Your friend Holly’s looking out for him.”

“Think you might’ve told me that from the git-go, Sheriff?” she asked. “Or is keeping me worried sick all part of trying to get me to trip up? Damn you people. You sure are cut from the same cloth as that bastard Hamp Beckett.”

“Can’t trip you up if you haven’t done anything,” Quinn said. “Who were those men who came for your mother?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “I figured she might’ve been foolin’ around with one of them and things got out of hand. Either that or those boys promised her something to snort or smoke.”

“She describe them to you?”

TJ shook her head. She slid down deeper into the seat, camo ball cap down in her eyes, jaws clenched and seeming to be fixated on something deep inside her.

“I’ll get a deputy to take you home.”

“No, thanks,” TJ said. “I’d rather call a friend.”

TJ didn’t look sad or remorseful. The kid didn’t look much like she felt anything. Quinn waited, not sure what else to say. He didn’t want to worry her any more than he had to at this point. He needed to get an ID on that body before anything more could get done. And to get that moving, he’d have to work with that tub of shit Bruce Lovemaiden.

“Can I see whatever it was y’all found in Parsham?” TJ asked.

“I don’t think you want to do that.”

“Why?” TJ lifted her eyes to Quinn, her face softening and her mouth hanging open. “How bad was it?”

“Get some rest,” Quinn said, standing up and motioning with his head for her to follow him out. “I’ll swing by in the morning and give you an update. I’m real sorry, TJ. You’re too young to go through a mess like this.”

“My life’s been a mess since I was born,” TJ said. “Don’t shed a tear for me, Sheriff.”

*   *   *

Chester Pratt was out of the Mercedes and lighting up a new cigarette. “Y’all want to get the grits out of your mouth and speak a little English?”

Dusty didn’t say a word, getting a little worried about Daddy and all the blood on that white towel. Momma Lennie sure was gonna have their ass when they got home. Bleeding out on that towel and being late for supper. One was bad enough but two in the same night was gonna mean hell to pay. That old woman would clock Daddy straight in the head with an iron skillet.

“You said that woman was giving you trouble,” Dusty said.

“That’s right.”

“And you told us to get her mind right.”

Pratt nodded. “But that was it, right?” Pratt said. “Gave her a rough talking-to and then let her be? Y’all must’ve scared her so damn bad that she left town.”