He let Kevin take him through the FBI office introducing him as the Oklahoma deputy marshal the Hot Kid book was written about, Carl shaking his head at Kevin sounding like his press agent. It surprised Carl these boys all seemed to know who he was.

They had to wait a few minutes to see John Bugas, special agent in charge; he was being interviewed by a writer from the Detroit News. When he came out, a photographer trailing behind, the writer walked up to Carl standing in the hall and offered his hand saying he was Neal Rubin.

“Did you know John Bugas was your biggest fan?”

“You’re kidding me,” Carl said.

“He’s looking forward to meeting you. I asked him if he’d read the book about you and John said, ‘Every word.’ He asked me if I’d read it. I said, ‘John, I reviewed it for the News and sent you my copy.’ That was ten years ago and he’d forgotten where he got it. I asked him what the Hot Kid was doing in Detroit. He said he thought you were just visiting. But I’m betting you’re after some wanted felon or escaped convict, aren’t you?”

“I don’t want to give anything away,” Carl said, “and spook him. Have him take off on me.”

“You know what my favorite part was? When you out-gunned that Klansman Nestor Lott, Nestor pulling his pair of .45 automatics. He was an oddball, wasn’t he?”

“He was a snake,” Carl said.

Neal Rubin looked at his wristwatch.

“I got to get going. I’m meeting Esther Williams for lunch at the Chop House and have to change my shirt.” The one he had on looked like it was from Hawaii. He said, “Pick up the News tomorrow, I’ll have something in my column about you.”