Tough Love by Nancy Holder Page B

decoration on the driver’'s-side door.
    “"Stop,”" she said, and Bobby, already anticipating her request, hit pause and typed a couple of keys. The image enlarged on the screen, but not by very much before it became a shimmer of pixels. On TV shows you got all the stylish close-ups, but not in real life, and not in the OK state. Bobby ratcheted it back down, and Grace made out a circle with rays emanating from it—--a sun, or maybe it was a ring of fire, with 110–-110–-110 above it, in text that curved around the circle. Around the bottom, like a motorcycle rocker, SONS OF OKLAHOMA.
    “"That’'s that crazy white supremacist group,”" Grace said. “"Bought up all that land off the 270 last summer.”"
    “"And registered a lot of weapons,”" Captain Perry added.
    “"Which means they’'ve got ten times as many that they haven’'t registered,”" Bobby put in.
    Two seconds later the truck whooshed out of frame. “"All that movement inside the cab …...”" Grace pondered.
    “"We think they were cheering,”" Bobby said. His voice smoldered with anger.
    “"For running over a kid?”" Grace leaned in and scrutinized the monitor. “"A black kid?”"
    Bobby reran the tape. “"We’'ve all been wondering when the Sons of Oklahoma would make their first move. This may be it.”" Oklahoma City PD had talked about slipping someone in undercover to monitor the Sons. So had the Feebs—--the FBI—--but so far that had just been talk.
    “"Who gets the pool?”" Grace asked. They’'d all laid bets on when the Sons would break a law. Grace had figured they’'d wait for something like the anniversary of Ruby Ridge. Today was just a blustery day in March.
    “"That’'d be Butch,”" Bobby replied. “"Just under the wire. He said mid-March.”"
    “"I had April Fools’' Day,”" Captain Perry grumped.
    “"That’'s all we need. A smug Longhorn.”" Grace made the sign of the cross at Ham as he walked in. He grinned at her halo. He was windblown and drinking a Styrofoam cup of coffee.
    “"Hark,”" she said. “"Behold.”"
    Joining the group, he glanced down at the monitor.
    “"Sons of Oklahoma,”" Grace explained. “"Ran over Malcolm, looks like.”"
    “"Yeah, I know.”" He sounded unsurprised “"Indian told me word on the street is the Sons of Oklahoma are starting a ‘'cleanup campaign.’'”" He made air quotes. “"Telling the locals the cops aren’'t doing their job so the Sons are going to do it for them. Get rid of all the drug dealers and the pimps. And the illegal immigrants.”"
    “"Especially the ones with brown or black skin,”" Bobby grumbled. “"That’'s how it usually starts, doesn’'t it?”"
    “"Vigilantes,”" Captain Perry said, disgust in her tone. “"We’'ve all seen it before. They’'re usually racist thugs disguising their motives by appealing to people’'s fear. Then when they’'ve got community support, they turn against the local authorities.”"
    “"The community’'s already turned against us,”" Bobby said. “"Crime-ridden neighborhoods, substandard housing …... it’'s hard for them to see what good we’'re doing.”"
    “"People in those circumstances don’'t want to admit that things could be worse,”" Captain Perry countered. “"With no police force to protect them at all …...”" She shivered. “"I wouldn’'t want to be around to see that.”"
    Grace blew her bangs out of her angelic eyes. “"Well, tougher times are here, aren’'t they.”" As she took off her halo, she gave Ham a pointed look. When Ham blinked, confused, she reminded herself that she’'d had that conversation with Earl. Sometimes it was difficult to keep the men in her life straight. Let’'s see, she thought. One of ’'em is trying to keep me from going to hell and the other one takes me to heaven on a regular basis. Okay, I got ’'em straight.
    “"If we have the Sons of Oklahoma to deal with on top of all this gang warfare,”" Bobby said, “"then people should be