temples and his face was weathered like the leather of a
baseball glove, but if the muscles of his body had begun
to soften, it was not evident in the way he moved with
such easy grace.
“Lomax,” Dwight said again. “Didn’t you use to play
shortstop for Fuquay High School?”
Lomax looked at Dwight more carefully and a rueful
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grin spread across his face. “I oughta bust you one in
the jaw, bo. You played third for West Colleton, didn’t
you? Can’t call your name right now, but damned if you
weren’t the one got an unassisted triple play off my line
drive in the semifinals with the bases loaded, right?”
“Dwight Bryant,” Dwight said, putting out his hand.
“Colleton County Sheriff ’s Department.”
“Yeah?” Lomax took his hand in a strong clasp.
“Reckon I’d better not punch you out then.”
“Might make it a little hard for my deputy here,”
Dwight agreed as Jamison smiled.
“Man, we were supposed to go all the way that year,”
he said, shaking his head. “Oh well. What can I do for
you?”
“You’ve heard about the body parts been scattered
along this road?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m afraid it’s your boss.”
“The hell you say!” His surprise seemed genuine.
“Buck Harris? You sure?”
“We’ve just compared the fingerprints with those in
Harris’s study here. They match.”
“Well, damn!”
“When’s the last time you saw him?”
Lomax pulled out a Palm Pilot and consulted his cal-
endar. “Sunday the nineteenth at the Cracker Barrel out
on the Interstate. I was having dinner with my son and
his wife after church and he stopped by our table on
his way out. I walked out to the car with him because
he wanted to firm it up about moving most of the crew
on this place to one of our camps down east. We’ve
had tomatoes here the last two years, so this year we’re
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planting these fields in soybeans. Beans don’t take a lot
of labor.”
“So did you move them yet?” Dwight asked.
“All but these guys you see here. Why?”
“Any women or children left in the camp?”
“A couple to cook for the men. Three or four kids
and they all go to school. We encourage that. We don’t