When Bill walked into the department ten minutes later, he wasn’t met with the chaos he’d expected. The wall clock’s pendulum ticked loudly in the otherwise quiet room. Scotty was filing paperwork.

He said, “Sorry to bring you from home.”

“What’s the trouble? Where’s Elray?”

“He’s got him back there in a cell.”

“Who does?”

“Your boy wonder.”

Bill rebuked that remark with a stern look. “I assume you’re referring to Thatcher.”

“Are the rest of us supposed to consider him official?”

“Good question,” Bill muttered as he hung up his hat. He entered the cell block where all the barred doors stood open. In the first cell, Thatcher was leaning with his back to the wall, one foot flat against it, his knee raised. He had a bead on Elray, who was sitting on the cot gnawing at his fingernails and jiggling his knees.

When he saw Bill, he shot to his feet and aimed an accusing finger at Thatcher. “He roped me like a damn calf. He was gonna hang me!”

Bill looked at Thatcher, who said, “He sneaked into Barker’s stable to steal a horse. He bungled it, and I caught him. But that’s not why I put him in here.”

“Okay,” Bill said, “I’m listening.”

“He said he would rather me hang him than tell me why he needed a horse.”

Bill hadn’t seen Thatcher since the morning he’d come to the house. During their conversation on the porch, he’d told Thatcher more than was comfortable about his and Daisy’s personal life, but he knew instinctually that his secrets were safe with this man of few words.

He also knew that Thatcher wouldn’t have hanged the Johnson kid, but had scared him into thinking he would. Apparently Thatcher also had perceived that Elray’s desperation might signify a need to flee. Bill thought Thatcher was probably right.

Elray had dropped back down onto the cot. His knees were bobbing again at a frantic rate. Bill asked, “What’s going on?”

“Nuthin’.”

“Did you intend to steal a horse?”

“Naw.”

Thatcher said, “He admitted he was until he realized they didn’t come already saddled.”

Wanting to laugh, Bill managed a strict tone. “That true, Elray?”

Glowering at Thatcher, he said sullenly, “He didn’t have to rope me and jerk me to the ground. It’s a miracle my butt bone ain’t broke. I’d’ve stopped running if he’d’ve asked me nice.”

Bill said, “Where were you planning to go on horseback?”

“Just ridin’. I hadn’t thought that far ahead.”

Bill went over to the cot, motioned for Elray to scoot to the other end of it, and sat down where the boy had been. “My supper’s getting cold on your account, and you dare to bullshit me? Now, where were you off to that was so important you’d steal a horse to get there?”

Elray’s face muscles began working like a child’s on the brink of tears. “Somewhere, anywhere, to lay low for a while.”

“Why do you need to lay low?”

He choked on a sob. “If they find out I was here talking to y’all they’ll…they’ll…no telling what they’ll do to me.”

“Who?”

“Cain’t say.”

“Your family?”

Elray wiped his dripping nose on his sleeve. “Goddamn Wally.”

“What about him?”

“He was always stirrin’ up trouble, then skippin’ out, leavin’ it to everybody else to clean up his mess.”

“Is that what’s happening now? A cleanup?”

Elray didn’t answer.

Bill said, “Has something come to light about who killed Wally?”

Elray’s eyes darted between Bill and Thatcher, then he lowered his head and shook it no.

“Then why were you hoping to get away?”

“Just tired of everybody being all worked up over it, is all.” He sat up straighter, gave a belligerent roll of his shoulders, and looked across at Thatcher before coming back to Bill. “He don’t know what I wasn’t at the stable only to take a gander at the guy who shot that rattler. I weren’t in there more’n a few seconds and didn’t steal shit. Anyhow, I got nuthin’ more to say.”

Bill looked over at Thatcher, who raised a shoulder and said, “He’s not worth the trouble it would take to hang him. I doubt Mr. Barker would want to bother with pressing charges of trespassing.”

“Then what do you suggest?”

He gave another laconic shrug. “Notify his kin to come take him off your hands.”

Bill recognized it as a bluff, but Elray didn’t. He surged to his feet again. “No!”

Bill grabbed him by the waistband of his britches and jerked him back down onto the cot. “What’s got you scared, son? You tell me, or I’ll hand-deliver you to your great-granddaddy. What’s Hiram up to? Vengeance for Wally?”

Elray hiccupped several times, then said, “He’s been on a rampage. He ordered all us to comb the hills. Every square inch we could cover. Any stills we found, tear ’em up, he said. ‘Wreak havoc on anybody making moonshine who ain’t a Johnson’ is how he put it.”

He made another swipe at his nose. “The other night one of my cousins—we call him Tup. Don’t ask why. Me and him were explorin’ and picked up the scent of wood smoke. We followed it to a still. Two, actually, but only one man was camped out there. What had drawn us was the smoke from his cookfire. He weren’t doin’ a run, just tinkerin’ around.

“We watched him hide a crate of ’shine in a hole in the ground. After he went into his tent, we waited to make sure he was down for the night, then snuck up to the hidin’ place, and took his whiskey.”

“How much?” Bill asked.

“Ten crates.”

“Ten crates?”

“It was a deep hole. Like a grave, only covered up good with brush. Had to make several trips to get it all back to our truck.”

“Did you know the man?”

“Don’t think so, but it was dark so I couldn’t see him good.”

“Do you think he saw you?”

“I know he didn’t. He had firepower within reach. If he’d’ve seen us, he would’ve used it. We got away clean.”