Quinn had met Reggie at the sheriff’s office, heading back toward the locked gate and through the gauntlet where the jailers worked, watching video feeds and running dispatch. Two more metal gates led into the cells themselves, Wes Taggart set off by himself next to Pookie Williams, who’d already made himself at home, watching television with two guys there on public drunk charges and unable to make bail. All of them entranced by Family Feud, Steve Harvey asking, Name something that comes strapped to you. The boys snickering at the question.

“Understand you wanted to see me?” Quinn said.

“Yes, sir,” Taggart said, rising up off his bunk, looking at Quinn between the bars, rubbing the stubble on his head. “Sure do. How about you get me out of this shithole and let me sit down face-to-face like a white man.”

Quinn shook his head, exchanging a glance with Reggie. “I understand that high-dollar lawyer from Memphis still hasn’t come to see you,” he said.

Taggart’s cocky grin faded, nodding as he pondered the situation. “I could use something decent to eat,” he said. “Shit on a shingle and an old cup of coffee ain’t cutting it. You think you might wrangle up one of those Sonic burgers again?”

“Sure,” Quinn said. “Reggie, radio up Kenny and tell him to stop by Sonic.”

Reggie nodded and walked back toward the jailers and dispatch, leaving Quinn standing alone in front of Taggart, looking uglier than ever with his bald, skeletal head.

“Except for the part when you about ripped my head off, I’ll be kind of sad to leave Tibbehah County,” Taggart said, his teeth big slabs discolored by coffee and cigarettes. “I can’t imagine the folks in Oxford being so downright hospitable.”

“You got something to discuss, Wes?” Quinn said. “Or you just looking to bullshit for a free meal?”

“I don’t know,” Taggart said, kind of laughing to himself. “What you got on the menu, Sheriff? How about you spell it out for me.”

“Your people left your ass hanging in the wind,” Quinn said. “You’re looking at attempted murder and murder charges here and then racketeering, drug running, and human trafficking up with the Feds. Altogether, I don’t see you getting out for a good long while. You might just want to lose the attitude and look at your situation. You really that good of friends with Fannie Hathcock and her people down on the Coast?”