of昀椀ce mail. Liam was next in line at the Greyhound ticket window. As Robert 昀氀ipped through his mail, discarded some, and acknowledged a townsman or two, he moved closer to Liam and the ticket window. Liam stepped to the window, and without looking up, said, “Two tickets for Juarez, please.” He slid a handful of dollar bills across the window counter. Liam soon took his tickets, pocketed his change, and walked out of the building onto the sidewalk. With his mail in hand, Robert followed him outside. “Hey there, Liam.” Liam stopped, turned, and looked at Robert. Robert held up his mail. “Sorry, I was just getting our mail. How are you today?” He pointed a letter at the tickets in Liam’s hand. “Taking a trip?” Liam looked at his tickets and back at Robert. He said nothing. “Those for you?” “They’re for Pa.” Liam looked about. “Is your dad taking a trip?” “I don’t know. I don’t think so. You got to ask him.” “Okay, I will. When are they good for?” Liam stared at Robert for a moment, then looked down at his tickets and slowly mouthed the dates. He looked up. “They’re for tonight.” Liam began to tap the heel of his foot on the sidewalk concrete. “May I go, please?” “Sure, Liam, of course.” ■ ■ ■ At about three that afternoon, Robert and his deputy drove out to Don McCord’s farm and pulled to a stop on the long dirt driveway, a few steps from the farmhouse porch. Don met them with a shotgun. “For God’s sake, Don,” Robert said as he stepped from the squad car’s passenger seat, “put that thing away.” “Don’t take the Lord’s name in vain, Robert. What can I do for you?” Robert stepped toward the porch and casually motioned for his deputy to stay back. “Well Don, Jenny and Susan were here the other day and practicing with Jacob 7 ■ PLAINS PARADOX