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civilization.”
    Dennis put his coffee cup down carefully and said with an almost friendly grin, “I’ll keep my ears open and my eyes peeled.”
    Though his face betrayed some doubt about Dennis Sully’s good intentions, he had no choice but to take the sheriff at his word. “In the meantime, you won’t mind if I make a few inquiries on my own?”
    “Suit yourself.” Dennis gestured broadly. “It’s a free country.”
    As soon as Springer was gone, Dennis got up, took a small sip of the cold coffee, made a face, ran a hand over the top of his head, and ambled back to the cells.
    As usual, Will was sitting on the side of his cot. He looked up at Dennis. “Sure didn’t like the sound of that guy.”
    “Didn’t look any better.”
    “Gustie better stay out at her place for awhile and not come to town.”
    “Mm hmm. She probably better.”
    “Don’t you worry, whatever it is, she wouldn’t have taken anything that wasn’t hers. That’s not Gustie. I don’t know who Clarice is. Never heard her talk about any Clarice. I’ll ask Lena. Don’t know what she done, but whatever it was, it’s nothing to do with Gustie.”
    “It wouldn’t be right...well, I couldn’t warn Gustie or anything about this fella. Might be obstructing justice. You never know what this could be about.” Dennis leaned casually against the bars, his arms folded across his chest and one leg crossed over the other at the ankle. One hand worried the stubble on his chin. “You know what I mean?”
    “Yeah, I know what you mean,” Will replied just as casually. “I’m in no position to obstruct anything much, am I?” He grinned up at Dennis amiably.
    “Nope.”
    “I’ll just talk to Lena. Maybe it’ll come up.”
    “Maybe. What do you want me to bring you back from Olna’s for supper? The fried chicken should be good tonight.”
    “Throw on some biscuits. That would go good.”

    While the gossip flourished in Charity among the people about each other, when it came to strangers—outsiders in fancy suits—folks became grim faced and tight lipped. Gustie had been an outsider. Now, by virtue of the two years they had baked her pies, churned her butter, and entrusted their children to her care, she was magically, unobtrusively, one of them. That evening, Steven Springer asked everyone in Olna’s Kitchen, where he ate his supper and where he was disappointed to find there was no wine, and could find no one who knew a blessed thing about anybody called Augusta Roemer.

    “You want to be alone with him.” Gustie opened the door for Lena, who carried another pillow case full of clean clothes for Will.
    “Oh, heck. I don’t want to be alone with him. Come in with me, Gustie.”
    In the sheriff’s office, they found Fritz Mulkey at his desk, and Dennis pouring thick black stuff that Gustie presumed was coffee into his cup.
    “Got some things for Will,” Lena announced. “You want to check it?”
    Dennis didn’t smile. “No, Missus, you go right in. Morning, Miss Augusta.”
    “Good morning, Sheriff. Morning, Fritz.”
    “Morning, Ma’am,” Fritz grinned broadly, unabashed by his mouthful of brown, snaggy teeth.
    Will lay on his back staring at the ceiling. His legs were crossed and his arms folded under his head. He scrambled to his feet when he saw Lena and Gustie.
    “Here you go, Will. Some fresh clothes. Put your dirty things in here, and I’ll pick them up tomorrow.” Lena couldn’t fit the bag through the bars of the cell. She began handing each item—pants, shirt, underwear—through one by one. She folded up the pillow case and handed that through last. Gustie could feel Lena’s shame and wondered why she wanted anyone to see this.
    “Hello, Will.”
    “’lo, Gustie. Nice to see ya.”
    Lena looked lost as she stood there, her eyes fluttering everywhere but through the bars at her husband. Will scratched his neck. “You know, Gustie, there was some fella here yesterday looking for you.”
    “What?”