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have a daddy anymore.”
    Wes used a forefinger and pulled the screen door open. “That’s enough now.”
    Ned agreed with him. “I reckon you’re right.”
    Cody surveyed the bright, airy room that was neat as a pin. A cluster of pictures on the wall showed Frank with a Texas senator, a member of the Texas House of Representatives, and the former Chisum mayor. “Harriet, I’m sorry.”
    The lawmen exchanged looks and Ned wiped his head again, ready to get outside where at least a little air was moving. “All right, then. That’s all we know. You holler if we can do anything for you.”
    She buried her face in the handkerchief again. A black woman Ned didn’t recognize came in from the kitchen and put her arms around the grieving widow. Neither looked up as Wes held the screen open.
    The lawmen filed through and were in the yard when Wes’ soft voice stopped them. “She’s a Mayfield.”
    Ned stopped and sighed. “Yes.”
    â€œNo Mayfield had oughta work for a Clay. Frank shoulda known better, but he’d hired one already.” He jerked his thumb toward the house. “Did you check to see if there were tire marks other’n hers? Whoever run ’em off the road got two birds with one stone, ’cause he was in the car with that high-yeller woman that was married. I heard them Mayfields didn’t like it that she’d been seen across the river in Frogtown since her old man run off. They’ll pay for that.”
    â€œNo they won’t.” Cody’s face reddened. “We don’t know it was intentional. It was an accident until we find out something different. Stay out of it.”
    â€œI hope y’all are going over to that nigger slut’s house to see what she was up to. I think there’s more to it than you’re lettin’ on.”
    Ned leveled his gaze at Wes who was working himself up. “We’ll do what we do. That’s none of your business.”
    â€œIt is our business. He’s kinfolk. Them Mayfields are some sneakin’, fightin’ sonsabitches and they took Frank with ’em when they got rid of that slut. I’m gonna find out for sure what happened. When I do, I’ll take care of it.”
    Cody clamped his jaw. “He’s already told you to keep your nose clean. It’s law business.”
    Wes lit a cigarette, flicked the match at Cody, spat onto the boards between his feet. “It’s family business, now. It just came clear to me. A Mayfield killed a Clay. There’ll be blood over it.”

Chapter Seven
    The Wraith thought about crossing the river for a beer, but recognition was too dangerous. Instead, he drove to the lake overlook and stayed in his truck, sipping from a half pint of whiskey and thinking about how close he’d come to being run over the night before because he’d been drunk and not paying attention. He thought about the two who died with little interest other than their names. Mayfield and Clay. An idea was born. He chuckled and tilted the bottle toward two houses barely visible in the distance opposite the glistening body of water.
    ***
    Late Saturday afternoon Ned and Judge O.C. Rains were drinking coffee in the back booth of Frenchie’s Café, only a block north of the Lamar County Courthouse. Boyhood friends, they argued like an old married couple most of the time.
    Judge Rains blew over the surface of his coffee and took a tentative sip. “Say she picked Frank up and gave him a lift?”
    â€œThat’s what I think happened. He hired her for a secretary last week. I went by his office here in town, and some of the young folks who volunteer for his campaign say they’d been there late in the night and were the last ones to leave.”
    â€œSo did his car not start? Is that what happened?”
    Oklahoma Sheriff Clayton Matthews had located Frank’s Ford in the parking lot of The Black Cat, one