Hollywood Hog. Mr. Religion. All were popular nicknames for the Chickasaw County superintendent of education. J.D. drove the twelve miles to the Welfords’ place on Lolly Road at ninety-five miles an hour. He’d never thought about Welford’s being involved in the girls’ disappearance. He should have, though. If Welford were sexually involved with Angie, he would have a lot to lose. J.D. berated himself as he made a ninety-degree curve, his right wheels sliding off the shoulder as he pressed the gas harder to correct the car. Calvin had been the suspect. J.D.’s absolute dislike of Vivian had affected his logic. He’d sympathized with Calvin, married to such a paranoid bitch. Calvin’s taking up with a mistress would be understandable. Angie had been far advanced for her age. She was the kind of girl who would set her cap for someone like Calvin, a man who could buy her things and pave her way. A man with power and influence. But Big Jim? The man was a deacon in the Baptist church.
