“Not really. My primary goal is psychological. Ike Ransom says everyone around here is playing the quiet game. He says the way you win that game is by making people nervous. So, that’s what I’m going to do. Marston won’t believe I’d make a public charge like that without hard evidence. He’ll panic. His first thought will probably be Ray Presley. After Presley, who knows? Portman maybe. We don’t know who else was involved. But Marston does.”

“You think he does. What if you’re wrong? What if you have no evidence by the time the slander case comes to trial?”

“Then I’ll lose a great deal of money. Maybe everything I have.”

“How long would that be? From the time of the slander till the trial?”

“Hard to say with someone like Marston. The deck would be stacked against me from the start. He’d want a quick trial, and he’d get one. Everybody in this town owes him favors, especially in the judicial system.”

“He’s got his share of enemies too,” Dad points out. “You might get some unexpected help.”

“I’ll tell you what would scare the shit out of him,” I think aloud, feeling excitement building inside me. “A jury trial. In this town the jury might be fifty percent black. We might even get a black judge.”

Dad actually cackles. “Marston would be apoplectic! After a lifetime of moderation on race, he gets hauled before a black jury on a case like this?”

“How would you do it?” Caitlin asks. “The slander, I mean. Walk into a bar, pound on a table, and accuse him of murder?”

“No. I’d have to make it impossible for him not to sue.”

“Talk radio?”

“Maybe. But the ideal medium is print. It carries the most authority.”

She blanches. “You mean my newspaper? Not a chance in hell.”

I smile. “Hey, are we partners or what?”

She stands and jabs her forefinger at me. “Marston would sue the paper for libel. He’d sue my father!” She shakes her head violently. “My father will tolerate a lot. But a libel suit? Do you know what kind of damages people have been awarded in libel cases? Tens of millions of dollars. He’d jerk my butt out of here so fast my feet wouldn’t touch the ground.”

“Caitlin—”

She shakes her head again and walks quickly to the door. “I’m going to forget I ever heard this. And I suggest you think long and hard before you put everything you have up for grabs. You have a daughter to raise.”

“Not a word in the paper about any of this,” I remind her.

She closes her eyes and sighs angrily.

“Unless you want to print my accusations of Marston’s guilt. Then you can blow the story wide open. You can take it national tomorrow morning. The more noise, the better.”