Caitlin looked steadily into his eyes. “Show me your driver’s license.”

After a couple of seconds, he took out his wallet and opened it for her. The name under his driver’s license photo read Harold Wallis.

“You don’t have a middle name?”

“Nope. Mama couldn’t think of one. I got eight brothers, and she said she ran out by the time she got to me.”

Caitlin pointed at the map and lowered her voice still further. “How do you know where that X goes, when nobody else seems to?”

“Easy. My granddaddy trapped and fished that swamp all his life, same as old Toby. He used to take me back there to help with the trotlines. I seen that tree a dozen times, even though Daddy cut a wide circle around it.”

“How long ago was this? You’re not that old.”

Harold shrugged. “Fifteen years, maybe.”

“Did you ever see it up close?”

“Yes, ma’am. One time. And that’s all I ever wanted to see it.”

“Is it hollow, like the legends say?”

Harold nodded. “I shined a light through the crack in that big trunk.”

Caitlin’s pulse quickened. “What did you see?”

“A pile of bones.”

She looked past Harold at the men in the booths. No one seemed to be eavesdropping. “Human?” she asked.

“Some was. I saw a skull. But I saw deer bones, too. Set of antlers. Looked like a mess up in there, and I didn’t look long. Granddaddy was about to skin me.”

“Where’s Toby Rambin now?”

“Gone. Took off somewhere, I heard. He long gone.”

“Why?”

“Chicken, maybe. Or smart. I don’t know.”

“What’s he scared of?”

Harold shook his head slightly. “Not in here.”

Caitlin leaned toward him. “Do you know why I want to find that tree?”

He nodded. “You lookin’ for them dead boys.”

“What boys?”

“Them musicians from Ferriday, went missing back in the sixties. Used to play the blues clubs round here.”

The men in the nearest booth got up and went to the cash register, keys jangling on their belts.

“What else do you know?” Caitlin asked.

Harold shrugged. “More boys than that got killed back in that swamp. Newspaper say you lookin’ for them, too. That’s what Stoney told me.”

“Stoney who?”

“Stoney Jackson. He go to Reverend Sims’s church.” Harold suddenly looked nervous, or maybe just impatient.

“Do you think those bones are still where you saw them?” she asked.

“Why wouldn’t they be? ’Less somebody moved ’em. And why would they do that?”

“Because they know the FBI is looking for them,” Caitlin said.

Silent laughter animated Harold’s dark face. “The men who own that hunting camp down there ain’t scared of no FBI. They got senators and governors coming down here to hunt and get wit’ women. Besides, the FBI didn’t find nothin’ back in the day, so why should they find anything now? Sheriff Ellis ain’t gonna help ’em none. And without help, they couldn’t find their way out, if they ever did get in. That swamp ain’t hardly been logged, lady. You saw it. It’s like a dinosaur movie. You got to know exactly where you goin’ to get anywhere.”

“How do you get in and out?”

“Boat. That’s the only way.”

“Do you have a boat?”

“Got a pirogue. For settin’ out trotlines and such.”

Caitlin tried to imagine what a pirogue might look like.

“So . . . you wanna see them bones or not?”

“Why are you willing to take me to them?”

A cagey look came into Harold’s face. “I hear you gave Mose a grand to take you through the game fence on that map.”

“I see. You want money?”

“Who don’t?”

“What do you want it for? Drugs?”

“Hell, no. I want to get out of this town, just like everybody else. Everybody black, anyway.”

Caitlin spoke so softly she doubted the boy would be able to hear. “Mose told me the Bone Tree is behind that fence. He said there was no way through without cutting it.”

Harold smiled. “Mose don’t know half of what he think he does. I know where there’s a hole. Deer know it, too.”

“Are you a poacher, Harold?”

The smile disappeared. “I do what my granddaddy taught me. I live off the land. Ain’t nothin’ wrong with that. You want to see that tree or not?”

Caitlin didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

“A grand ain’t gonna cover it. I need double that.”

“Two thousand dollars?”

“Hazard pay. Soon as I bring you back, I’m blowing town. Won’t be able to stay after that. Once you get the police in there, the men who use that tree gonna start looking for whoever showed it to you. I got to be long gone by then.”

“Are you sure you’re not just trying to screw me out of this money you think I have?”

The look of hurt pride on the boy’s face actually made her feel guilty. “If all I wanted was your money, I could just run you off the road and take it—which some brothers around here would be happy to do. Crackers, too. I’m only askin’ what’s fair. You’ll see what I mean when you see where we got to go.”

Caitlin nodded. “All right. Two thousand. But that’s it.”

Harold thought about it, hard. “Okay,” he said finally. “It’s a deal.”

Caitlin turned to Terry, whose eyes were as big as fried eggs. She laid her hand on Terry’s arm. “You told me once that you envied the reporters, who get to do important work. Well, this is it.”

Terry swallowed hard but said nothing.

“Can we go today?” Caitlin asked.

Harold looked at the big window to their left. An MP&L truck rumbled up to the nearest gas pump, water steaming off its hood.

“It’s rainin’ again. But that’s the best time for us. Won’t be nobody else back up in there.”

“The sheriff’s men are down there, working a crime scene.”

Harold smiled. “If they are, they won’t stay. Not in this rain. Even the men at the huntin’ camp will stay inside. But once this rain stops for good, you don’t want to be caught back there. We could all wind up like that boy you found.”

“Give us a minute to talk,” Caitlin said. “Go to the men’s room or something.”

Harold looked at Terry for a couple of seconds, then got up and went to the quick-serve food counter.

“Oh, my God,” Terry said. “I know you’re my boss, but are you crazy? That’s the guy who was staring at us before we came in here!”

“I know. I need you to calm down, Terry.”

“I’m not going down into that swamp with that guy.”

“That’s right, you’re not.”

Terry’s eyes narrowed, then went wide. “You’re not either!”

“Yes, I am. I need you to stay here and field my calls. There’s almost no reception down in that swamp, not unless you’re in a helicopter. I’m going to text Jamie to route all my calls to you. If Penn calls you while I’m gone, tell him I’m interviewing somebody and I can’t talk to him until I’m done.”

Terry grabbed her wrist. “Caitlin, you can’t do this. You don’t know this guy, and even if he’s okay, you know that swamp is full of crazy rednecks.”

“That swamp has about as many living people in it as the Natchez cemetery. I’ll be fine.”

“Oh, this is not happening.”

“Terry, how do you think people like Jordan Glass got famous? You think she went back to her hotel whenever the bullets started flying?”

“I don’t know, and I don’t want to.”

“Well, I do. She got where she is by going farther into the shit than anybody else was willing to go. Compared to that, what am I doing? Taking a boat ride with a poacher. You’ve seen the guy’s face and read his driver’s license.” Caitlin lowered her voice to a whisper. “He’s black, for God’s sake. He’s not about to take his boat where the Knoxes can find us. Okay?”

Terry shook her head like a frightened little girl. “I still don’t like it. You should call the FBI and tell them about this guy. He can take them to that Bone Tree.”

“I’m not about to give them this guy. And you’re not either. You hear me? I need two hours to myself. That’s all.”