Thirty-six hours later, Lillie Virgil walked into Quinn’s office, pulled up a wooden chair, and took a seat. She lifted her suede boots up onto his desk, folded her hands in her lap, and said, “You can’t rely on me and the U.S. Marshals Service for all your needs, Sheriff,” she said. “Just because this woman may or may not be a witness in a high-profile case isn’t a concern for us. She’s neither a felon nor an escaped convict. I’m not inclined to go out and find Ansley Cuthbert for you unless I’ve got a court order. And I don’t see that coming for a long while.”

“You remember her?” Quinn said, looking over his desk at Lillie.

“Of course I remember Ansley Cuthbert,” Lillie said. “Wilder than a march hare. That girl ruined many a good Baptist at Tibbehah High. Remember when she posed in a bikini for the FFA Calendar? Standing in the mud by her boyfriend’s Jeep? That was a pretty big controversy in Jericho. More teenage boys were wankin’ to Ansley than to posters of damn Tiffani Amber Thiessen.”

“Yep,” Quinn said. “Tripled sales that year. I heard they went out and bought a brand-new tractor.”

“And what’s this shit about some dickless paramilitary assholes giving y’all trouble?” she asked. “When I couldn’t reach you, I called Reggie and he said two men had been stalking those reporters from New York. I hope you busted their ass good. You can’t come in to Tibbehah County and put your feet up on the furniture. Am I right?”

Quinn nodded to Lillie’s boots at the edge of the desk. She didn’t pay him any mind, leaning back in the hard wooden chair like she’d had a hell of a day. “So let me get this shit straight. Y’all went up to Memphis trying to find Ansley Goddamn Cuthbert and ran into Mr. Phillips, who, by the way, is a hell of a sweet man. How’s he doing anyway?”

“Fine.”

“And Mr. Phillips knew something about Ansley which made that crazy-ass girl a top-shelf priority? Because I can’t for the life of me think of one damn reason Ansley Cuthbert could be of any help to y’all on Brandon Taylor.”

“She was his girlfriend at the time,” Quinn said. “Mr. Phillips and Rhonda Taylor both say they were very close before he disappeared. Caddy and that girl Tashi Coleman tracked her down at a Memphis bar a couple weeks ago. She wouldn’t talk, but said some things that made Caddy think she’s the one who sent Maggie all those letters about Brandon and about the girl’s body on the Pennington land. If that letter was from Ansley, then she likely knows who that girl was and how she died. When I went back to find her and ask her about it, she’d blown town.”