They took her fingerprints sitting at the gray metal desk of Officer Nolte, the virile young buck who had brought her in. ‘Now then, missie. 269 They pulled up to the same spot where Michelle’s and the young man’s bodies were, already attracting dust and creeping bugs in the pit. The candles—for McClintock never used oil in his dining room—were burning low in the sconces. ‘I’ll wager that militiaman never rode the animal, then. She must be beautiful, but beauty is only the beginning. If she was in a position to help him she would help him; only it happened to be the other way round.
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