The Redeemers by Ace Atkins

over her shoulder. “Hope that’s OK. Luke told me to double those pills if they weren’t working. It made her tired, but she wouldn’t stop talking. Kept on rambling on about things that didn’t make any sense. She was remembering some trip you and her took to Opryland as kids. You recall that?”
    “I do.”
    “Where was I?”
    “That was after you and Dad had separated,” Quinn said. “Uncle Hamp drove us to Nashville to meet up with Dad. We got to see the Oak Ridge Boys open for Dolly Parton.”
    “Did you meet Dolly?”
    “Dad got us backstage passes.”
    “Of course he knows her, too,” Jean said. “He probably has played with her big titties.”
    “Mom.”
    “Well, would it surprise you?”
    Quinn had no answer as he followed his mother back through the long shot of the house, morning light streaming through leaded-glass windows, to the kitchen. She had a fire going in an old black stove, the room smelling of burning red oak and fresh coffee. Quinn sat down at the kitchen table, covered in red-and-white-checked oilcloth, and his mother brought him the coffee. He kicked off his cowboy boots. It had been a long night on patrol. Two drunks. One domestic. And an arson at an abandoned convenience store. Fire department was handling that mess.
    “Did Luke say anything else?” Quinn said.
    “He said if she didn’t get professional help, she’d go right back to where you found her.”
    “And Caddy thinks she’s fine.”
    “She says she just slipped,” Jean said. “Says she’s back on track since praying on it. Said she’d started to think about what happened in the storm, with her house being torn up. And with—”
    “Jamey Dixon.”
    “You bet,” Jean said. “That’d throw anyone for a loop.”
    Quinn drank some coffee and looked out a side window at a half-dozen peach, apple, and pear trees neatly aligned down a sloping hill. His cattle dog Hondo trotted through the thick of them, covered in mud and shit from his daily messing with the cows. Despite all Quinn’s attempts, man cannot change a dog’s instincts. Hondo was a tough, strong Australian shepherd with two different-colored eyes, one of the smartest animals he’d ever known.
    “I found this place in Tupelo,” Quinn said. “Actually, Lillie found it. It’s a nice facility not far from the mall. Lillie checked out the staff and called some folks at Tupelo PD for recs.”
    “Well, we can’t force her,” Jean said. “You know how Caddy can get. You force her into something and she’s gonna take another path. Luke said it has to be her idea.”
    “Bullshit.”
    “Don’t you dare talk to me like that, Quinn Colson,” Jean said. “This hasn’t been easy. She’d been so good. Done so well with coming back last time. I thought all this was over. And now I’m back raising Jason. I love that boy, but I’m not his mother.”
    “I guess it’s time for the finger-pointing and tears,” Quinn said.
    “What’s that mean?”
    “Intervention.”
    Jean put her hand to her mouth, nodding and thinking. After a few moments, she said, “I guess we should bring in Diane Tull, too. Boom and Lillie. Ophelia, of course.”
    “Maybe not Ophelia.”
    “Why’s that? She’s Caddy’s friend.”
    “Have you forgotten about the steak dinner?” Quinn said. “That knife thrown in my kitchen wall?”
    “Can you blame her?” Jean said. “You just told her that you didn’t have deep feelings for her. That you didn’t ever see y’all getting married. Ophelia wasn’t trying to hit you with that damn knife. She was just trying to make a point.”
    “Appreciate that, Momma.”
    “OK,” she said, still thinking about the list. “Well, Jason can’t be there, but he can write a letter.”
    “Which Jason?”
    “The good one.”
    “You don’t think her own father should be there?”
    “Jason Colson hasn’t earned a place at our table,” Jean said. “He forfeited that right about twenty years ago to go chase tail around