from Chapter One
Brisk wind scattered dead leaves. Above the grove on a distant farm an orange horizon faded into darkness. A heifer wanting salt mooed. A mare neighed in a barn. The courthouse clock in the community square echoed five chimes. Polk County settled down for a rest.
Cap napped on a recliner. He slowly opened his eyes, aware of someone or something in the room. By the fireplace a faint gray illumination lingered. Within the lurid glow floated the image of a young woman dressed in a cambric bed gown. Strands of long light brown hair curled from her temples to the sides of her pale face. The figure faded, as if it had visited long enough only to warm itself by the fire.
Cap went outside and sat on the front steps of the majestic old house. His fingers scrapped pieces of sculpting clay from his palms as he pondered upon what had just occurred. In front of him stretched the fading sunset he had witnessed many times during the three-and-a-half years he lived there while attending the nearby college.
from Chapter Five
“Cap, ya know my sister Dorothy, right, and that clown-idiot Eddie Miller she’s been datin’ for over a year?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, she’s been tellin’ me how Eddie’s been tellin’ her how much he lovers her. I don’t know, I guess he’s been gittin’ in her pants, ya know, and, well, she believes everthin’ he says. But now he’s only callin’ her when he gets horny, and she’s been a-hoppin’ whenever he snaps his fingers.”
Mawell flicked ashes out the vent. The wind blew the cigar from his hand and it landed between his legs. He rose from the seat and swatted at the glowing stick of tobacco.
“Man! Dot didn’t say a word all the way back to Mom’s house. She locked herself in her bedroom and cried like she’d been beaten with a cactus. After she’d calmed down, I convinced her to call Eddie, and she asked him to take her to their special parkin’ place in the woods at Frumitt’s farm. At midnight, they’ll be where we’re goin’ now, and we’ll have ourselves a little stump hangin’.”
from Chapter Eighteen
The friends left. The house was silent. Cap and Emily dozed. One of Clifton’s books fell from the shelf and startled Cap. Emily purred, wrapped her arms around his arm, and nestled the side of her face on his chest.
Cap squinted. Beyond the haze of moisture covering his eyes he saw the back of a flowing white nightgown floating from the dining room and disappearing into the kitchen.
from Chapter Twenty-five
The force of Simon’s punch caused Dr. Schuyler’s head to snap backward. The doctor’s nose flattened and caved into his face, and the cartilage cracked and splintered. Blood gushed from his nostrils. Dr. Schulyer landed on the ground flat on his back.
Chief Phelps and Sheriff Gasconade ran neck-and-neck up the pathway, with Professor Atchison and Crawford Taney closing ranks in tight formation behind them.
“Good Lord,” Sheriff Gasconade said, panting, “I’ve seen a lot of things in my time, but I’ve never seen a fight at a cemetery.”
Chief Phelps cracked an amyl nitrite ampoule and placed it under Dr. Schuyler’s shattered nose.
Sheriff Gasconade picked up the stethoscope. “What’s going on here?”
“He pushed me.”
“Sacajawea and Lewis and Clark, we saw that, but Precious Jesus, Son, look what you did to his nose.”
