"She made it. Out of her mom's fabric. She's been working on it since Christmas." Mark's voice did something strange. "I didn't even know that. I didn't know until right now. Her stepsister just told me. Her grandmother probably knew. Everybody knew but me."
Hollis took the phone, very gently, and handed it back.
"Go," he said.
"We're short two guys."
"We were short two guys yesterday. We'll be short three today. Lady on Elm's got power. Hospital's got power. The rest of 'em can wait one more night, and if they can't, that's on me, not you." He took the thermos cup out of Mark's hand. "How far's Corbin?"
"Three and a half."
"Then you can be there by five. Go. Go on, Mark. Get in your truck."
He went.
He drove north on 75 with the window down because the cab felt too small, and at Bartlesville he called the only person he could think of who would tell him the truth.
Pearl Ostrander answered on the first ring, and he understood from the way she said his name that she had been waiting for this call for a long time.
"Mark."
"Pearl. I need to ask you something, and I need you to not be nice about it."
"I am never nice," Pearl said. "Rose used to say I was the least nice woman in Reno County. Ask."
"How bad is it?"