Billy crossed the parking lot, then took the cracking wooden stairs to the second floor, where the lineup chamber was located. It was a small, stuffy room with a long glass window separating it from an adjacent narrow room with a platform and a series of overhead spots. The spots lit up a gleaming white wall, and each standee held a number in front of his chest. Woody Keeler was number six; Perry Hill, looking pale and weak, held up number four. Lilian Running Rabbit was leaning against the wall of the lineup chamber, opposite the viewing window, when Billy silently opened the door and stepped in. Beside her stood a muscular but thin Peigan teenager wearing traditional pigtails and blue rodeo show boots. A sweat-stained Stetson dangled from his left hand. His right grasped Lilian’s small shoulders. Lilian was in her late forties, Billy guessed. She was wearing a buckskin vest with beadwork, a long plain grey skirt, and a red bandanna. Sunglasses, thick-rimmed and black, shaded her eyes.
