“Nope,” Reggie said. “No costumes. No pumpkins. No parties. I used to get real jealous of my friends loading up with all that candy. I’d ask my momma what was so wrong with just dressing up, knocking on a few doors? And she’d turn to me, mad as hell, with smoke coming out her ears, and say Halloween was a night when the devil rejoices.”

“Hard to argue with that.”

“Speak of that ole devil,” Reggie said, leaning forward in his chair. “Don’t know what to make of it, but I heard those two young ladies from New York been meeting with folks at the Daily Journal and some man at CNN. Is that true?”

“That’s their business,” Quinn said, shrugging. “Nothing changes for our work, making sense of what happened to that Taylor kid and the girl in that hole.”

“For Maggie?” Reggie asked.

Quinn nodded, looking at his watch and standing up. Out the window, two of the county jail inmates were working in the parking lot, building a bookshelf for the common area. Miss Janice from over at the library had donated a pile of books for the inmates to read. Most of them self-help books, stuff like 7 Habits of Highly Effective People, The Secret, and Unlimited Power by Tony Robbins. Quinn told Miss Janice he wasn’t really sure he wanted dope dealers and serial thieves to be that much more effective in Tibbehah. He said his job was to feed and lodge until trial, not rehabilitate. But Miss Janice wouldn’t take no for an answer and dropped off four full boxes of books. What could you do?

“I don’t mean to get personal, Sheriff,” Reggie said. “But I hope Maggie finds some comfort in the knowing. I heard she stayed away from Tibbehah for a long while after it happened. Couldn’t have been easy.”

“It was one of the first things we discussed when she moved back.”

“I guess that helped draw y’all closer?”

“That and having a sociopath for an ex-husband,” Quinn said, turning away from the window as Cleotha opened the office door. She put a hand on her big hip and made a sour face, holding up two call-back slips.

“That woman Dana Ray won’t stop calling, Sheriff,” Cleotha said. “I told her you off duty, but her crazy ass called three more times in the last hour.”

“And what’d she say?”

“That peckerhead boyfriend of hers got out on bond and is messin’ with her mind,” Cleotha said. “I said, ‘If he’s threatening you or coming near your house, you give us a call, but until then I ain’t setting up no chat line with Sheriff Colson.’”

“And this last time?” Quinn asked.