“The woman who killed my son has struck again,” he announced. “This time she killed my son’s fiancée.” The lobby buzzed with dozens of conversations at once. Oliver held up both hands, demanding silence. “Savanna Cantrell was seen entering the hotel by way of the back steps. She disappeared after several witnesses heard a gunshot. My men are giving chase, but we need volunteers to form another posse.” He glanced around the lobby. “Who can I count on to bring this madwoman to justice? She deserves to hang after her killing spree. We would demand the same kind of justice for a man who murdered twice, wouldn’t we?” Oliver inwardly smiled when a half dozen arms shot into the air and dozens of people nodded in agreement. Parmicho, the Chickasaw police chief, stood at the back of the crowd, giving him a narrow-eyed squint. Since the law officer had refused to mount a posse, claiming he needed more evidence that indicated Savanna was involved, Oliver had taken matters into his own hands.
