Publisher's Synopsis
Sheriff Crowfoot had a dilemma: in front of him was the body of an alleged drug dealer and a child molester. The dead man spent his life just beyond the law. Because of his charismatic personality, no one would bring charges against him. Crowfoot smiled to himself; anger vomited inside him. A Vigilante Group had taken the laws into their own hands. The body was sitting in a car on the far side of the parking lot from the Sheriff's Office. The corpse had a noose around the neck with a rope hanging down. Printed on the man's forehead with black permanent marker were the numbers 3-7-77, the numbers Vigilantes used a century ago in Virginia City, Montana to warn criminals to leave or be hanged. In his mind he knew that the law had always rested on citizens' shoulders. The citizens elected the sheriff to keep the law, he was the sheriff, and he would keep the law for them. Today, all he could think of was that someone, or several individuals, had to be stopped. It looked and smelled like a right wing terrorist group. This death was a personal affront to Crowfoot. The message was clear: he wasn't doing his job. They were murderers, not vigilantes, and they had to pay for their crime. This was personal. Then it happened again. Two men were found hanged west of town. 3-7-77 printed on their foreheads. This meant war.
