As the lightning cracked again, he saw something outside that gave him more of a jolt than seeing Miss Kitty’s ole red-haired crotch waffle.

“Shit,” Royce said, getting to his feet. “Son of a damn bitch. Who’s out there? Is that you, Colson?”

Royce had seen a man. The dogs making a big racket now, howling and barking.

“Who the fuck is out there?”

Royce looked for his gun but couldn’t find it under the mounds of clothes and old magazines, empty bottles and cigarette cartons. His heart fluttered in his old chest like a wind-up toy. Where the hell did he put his goddamn shotgun? What the fuck was going on outside? He found his pay-as-you-go phone over by the nearly empty bottle of booze and dialed in to the sheriff’s office.

“I seen an Indian out there in the rain.”

“Mr. Royce, you been drinking again?”

“I know what I saw, some ole Indian sneaking out my property, probably looking to steal a horse. But he ain’t gonna find no white girl to save his ass. No, ma’am. I ain’t like ole Chester. Ole E. J. Royce shoots to kill if he could find his goddamn weapon.”

“We done told you to quit calling, Mr. Royce,” the smart-mouth black woman said. “Last time you told me the MS-13 gang was selling drugs down at the Gas & Go in Blackjack. Other time, it was some black girl selling cookies for the Girl Scouts.”

“Call the sheriff,” Royce said. “Call the goddamn sheriff and tell him what E. J. Royce done seen.”

*   *   *

Quinn and Lillie rolled back into Tibbehah County at 2100, heading straight for the sheriff’s office, when he got the call from Cleotha, hearing a lot of talk about E. J. Royce’s crazy ass. The rain had gotten worse. Quinn slowed his truck, high beams on, as he got off at the first exit, taking the back way into town.

“He said what?” Lillie said.

“Royce said he was under attack by Indians.”

“That I’d love to see,” Lillie said. “Maybe if he’s that damn drunk, he’ll tell us the truth about why he’s spreading around all that bullshit about you.”

“I don’t have time for Royce,” Quinn said. “You need to get back to Memphis. And I need to get on back home. I’ll send a deputy out for a welfare check.”

“But Indians,” Lillie said. “He said Indians.”

“What did you expect?” Quinn said. “Royce never heard about Native Americans. I had to dial it down a good bit last time I saw him at the Piggly Wiggly. I’d just as soon not be in that man’s presence. I will never understand how my uncle put up with him.”