Chapter 21: By the Book

The sheriff stared at his sister's son.

"What did you say to me?" he asked.

"I said no, sir," the deputy answered.

He took out his phone and held it up.

"The prosecutor texted me at six-forty," he said. "She got the warrants from the judge in Amarillo. I've been trying to find you for an hour."

"Give me that."

"They name Cassidy Rawlins, Brody Faulk and his father," the deputy said. "Attempted murder, conspiracy, and fraud on a military benefit."

He turned the screen so the front rows could see it.

"They name a rifleman and a man named Dell Faulk too," he said.

"I'm Dell Faulk," said a voice from the stands.

Dell was coming down the steps with his hands already out in front of him.

He had my hat in one fist and his cap in the other, and he laid them both on the rail.

The deputy looked at the sheriff.

The sheriff looked at the eight thousand people looking at him.

He took his hand off his gun.

"Do it by the book, son," he said, very quietly.

"Yes, sir."

The deputy walked across the dirt, and the arena followed him with its eyes.

He stopped in front of Cassidy.

She was still on her knees in the black dress, with one hand wrapped in the hem and the other held to her mouth.

"Cassidy Rawlins," he said, "you're under arrest."

"I want my lawyer."

"You'll have him."

"I'm a mother," she said. "I'm a mother and a widow."

"You're neither," a man called from the stands, and the whole north side cheered.

The deputy cuffed her wrists in front of her.

She looked up at me over his shoulder.

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