Free Where Southern Cross the Dog by Allen Whitley Page A

his head. Luke was pale, like he had never worked a field. He also looked like he hadn’t slept—perhaps hadn’t even moved from this position—for days.
    Lewis stared for a few seconds and tucked his head back around the corner. He looked around the corner a second time. If Luke heard Lewis, he made no sign. “Let’s go,” Lewis said to the guard.
    As they retraced their steps, a voice rose in the half-light of the jail. The raspy chant echoed down the hall, seeming to come from the walls themselves.
    Been down this old road before,
    Been down this old road before,
    Don’t want to go there anymore.
    Look up and I can see the sky,
    Look up and I can see the sky,
    Look up ’cause I’m sure I’m gonna die.
    Oh Lord, there’s things I gotta tell,
    Oh Lord, there’s things I gotta tell,
    Those things they’ll send me straight to hell.
    When they reached the front door, Lewis thanked the guard for his kind assistance and headed over to the courthouse, which was just beginning to come to life. The hallways were filling up, and people were lingering outside their offices, chatting over their morning coffee.
    Lewis spied Sam Tackett outside his office.
    â€œThe reason we called you down, Lewis,” Tackett started, “was to make sure that what went on this morning gets reported accurately. We don’t want to read anything in the newspaper that is conjecture or speculation. We want the facts stated clearly and precisely. We have a lot of people in the county to think about, Lewis. And making sure they clearly understand what has transpired is important.”
    â€œYou know I always try to report objectively and to research stories thoroughly.”
    Tackett grinned as he looked Lewis in the eye. “Now, you know,” he continued, “that we’re holding Luke Williams in the county jail.”
    â€œYeah, I heard that.”
    â€œHe came in late last night and gave a short statement to the deputy on night shift. The deputy wasn’t sure whether he was confessing or just telling what he knew about the murders. But he’s willing to give a full statement today and to be questioned about the events and circumstances. This is our first break, and we need to be careful how we ask the questions and what he admits to. We don’t want him to walk, because he’s the only thing we have except a bunch of dead bodies.”
    â€œI’ll do the best I can.”
    â€œI hope so, for your sake, Lewis, because we can always do this without you.”
    The interrogation room was hot and lit by a string of lights suspended over a square table that was surrounded haphazardly by several rickety chairs. Four other chairs were pushed against a wall near the door.
    Collins was seated at the table by the time Bill Montgomery arrived. The deputy from the night before took a seat near the door, and Dan Mulevsky and Bob Thompson from the FBI, who had rushed up when they heard the news, were also in attendance. The Feds couldn’t be accused of meddling if a suspect was already in custody. Lewis sat in the back by the deputy.
    They chatted amiably until Luke was escorted into the interrogation room. He was handcuffed, and a deputy led him to a seat in front of the sheriff.
    â€œTake the cuffs off,” Collins said, thinking that if they got him relaxed maybe Luke would talk all day.
    The deputy removed the handcuffs, placed them on the table, and stood against the wall directly behind Luke’s chair.
    Luke rubbed his wrists over and over again where the handcuffs had dug into his skin a little too hard.
    â€œLuke, you know why you’re here, don’t you?” Collins asked.
    â€œYeah.”
    â€œYou’re our only witness, Luke, and we want to get your full statement today. Do you think that’ll be okay?”
    â€œYeah, that’s fine.”
    â€œThere’s no reason to be worried or concerned. We just want to find out what