“The built-up resentment in this town is none of my doing, Sheriff. What’s happening now would have happened eventually, whatever the cause.”

“Maybe,” he allows. “I sure hope you’ve got some evidence, though. Messing with Judge Leo ain’t generally good for your health.”

“Any leads on the Whitestone shooters?” Ike asks.

“The P.D. has an informer working it. They’re not telling me squat, of course, but the word is, it’s some kids from the Concord Apartments. Nobody’s been arrested yet, though. And we need an arrest. Jailing those two might go a long way toward calming people down. Maybe you ought to take a ride over to those apartments, Ike. See if you can shake something loose.”

“I’ll do it.”

The sheriff smooths his thinning hair. “Think you can give me some overtime tonight?”

“Glad to get it.”

“I want you to stick to the north side, try to keep everybody indoors.”

The sheriff is telling Ike to keep the black population inside their houses.

“I’ve given the white deputies the same orders for their parts of town,” he adds for my benefit. “It’s fear that drives all this nonsense. If we can get through this first night, we might just make it okay.”

The sheriff’s phone starts ringing, and he leans forward to shake our hands. “You boys try not to shoot anybody else, okay?”

Ike leads us out to the front steps of the building, where he takes a pack of Kool Menthols from the pocket of his uniform. He offers Kelly one, but Kelly declines. As Ike holds his lighter flame to the tip of his cigarette, his hand trembles, and Kelly shoots me a quick glance.

“You sleep with this boy if you have to,” Ike tells Kelly, exhaling a long stream of smoke. “He’s doing some good, even if he is doing it the hard way.”

Kelly winks at Ike. “No sweat, Sergeant.”

“How’d you know I was a sergeant?”

“It’s like a sign around your neck, brother.”

Ike’s laugh is good to hear, but as we move down the steps toward our cars, Kelly leans toward me and says, “He’s speeding like a racehorse, with bourbon underneath. Something’s eating him. Bad. None of my business, of course.”

I slap him on the shoulder. “You say whatever pops into your head, Kelly.”

“Will do.”

Since my mother’s computer was destroyed in the fire, I planned to draft my answer to Marston’s suit at the offices of the Examiner. They occupy an entire building in an old section of downtown, a long one-story structure with inadequate parking.