gun.
Three seconds went by and nobody moved.
Bang.
The shot nearly made me crap my pants.
Karl dropped his gun and went to the floor face down, squirming and cursing a blue streak. “You fucking cunt. Oh, fucking shit! You shot me in the ass, you bitch. Damn, that hurts.”
“Just stay down, Karl. Toby, get his pistol.”
I grabbed it.
“Oh, you complete fucking whore.” Karl was making fists and groaning between outbursts, his eyes crushed closed against his ass pain.
Amanda took a step closer, spared me a glance. “I got your message, but when I tried to call, the phone was out. Didn’t think I’d be shooting anyone today.”
“It’s been that kind of night.”
She said, “Karl, I’m going to grab one arm and Toby’s going to get the other, and we’re going to drag you as gently as possible into the cell, okay? Then we’ll fetch Doc Gordon. You give us any trouble, and I’ll put another one in you. Understand?”
Karl nodded. His face was a sweaty grimace.
We hauled him into the vacant cell, dropped him on the cot and locked it.
“Toby, put that chair over by the far wall and have a seat.”
I did what she told me.
She slapped one cuff on my wrist, the other to the radiator.
“Oh, come on.”
“I don’t have time to hear your story right now, Toby. Sorry. Can’t take any chances. We’ll see what happens when I get back with the doc.”
“Great.”
She jerked a thumb over her shoulder at the hellcat. “You can start by explaining who the hell that is.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Doc Gordon worked on Karl’s ass in the cell. I heard him tell Karl to hold still, but Karl hissed and bitched every time the doc poked at him. Amanda swung a leg over the edge of the desk, regarded me with her hard, cop eyes.
I’d never have eyes like that, I realized. I’d never make it in the cop business because I wouldn’t be able to put that expression on my face. I knew Amanda, liked her a whole lot better than I’d liked Karl or Billy. She treated me more or less like a fellow deputy, not a part-time errand boy. But right now she was looking at me like some interesting species of bug under a microscope. She’d been a cop back in Eastern Oklahoma. Claremore, I think. She’d said she’d wanted to live farther out in the wilderness, do outdoorsy stuff like hiking and the rock climbing. So here she was in Coyote Crossing just under a year.
Anyway, I knew I wouldn’t be able to lie to those cop eyes. Besides, I needed to tell somebody. Unload. So I started the story at the beginning with losing Luke Jordan’s body. She didn’t seem surprised to hear about me and Molly, and I figured it didn’t really need to be a secret no more anyway since Doris had run off. I told her about the truck full of Mexicans and putting an axe through Billy’s neck and my upside down Nova. I told her about Roy’s big-rig and the hole I put in the Mona Lisa Motel. I told her about my son.
I felt exhausted by the end, put a cigarette in my mouth.
“You’re not supposed to smoke in the stationhouse,” Amanda said.
The look on my face must’ve been the saddest thing in the world because she rolled her eyes and said, “Go ahead then.”
I smiled a weak thank you at her and puffed one to life.
“Where’s the chief?”
I frowned. “I got a bad feeling he’s dead.”
“Why do you say that?”
“He went out to the Jordan’s place and that was the last anyone heard of him.”
“You think the Jordans are part of the smuggling?”
I nodded, puffed.
Doc Gordon came up behind us, cleared his throat for our attention. He wore an undershirt and pajama bottoms and carried a black doctor’s back. The pajama bottoms were green and covered with fish. He was in his late fifties and stooped, hair gone completely white. Round, thick glasses. He looked like a man who didn’t want to be awake.
“How is he?” Amanda asked.
“I cleaned him up,” Gordon said. “And I gave him a shot for pain, so he’s sleeping.
Three seconds went by and nobody moved.
Bang.
The shot nearly made me crap my pants.
Karl dropped his gun and went to the floor face down, squirming and cursing a blue streak. “You fucking cunt. Oh, fucking shit! You shot me in the ass, you bitch. Damn, that hurts.”
“Just stay down, Karl. Toby, get his pistol.”
I grabbed it.
“Oh, you complete fucking whore.” Karl was making fists and groaning between outbursts, his eyes crushed closed against his ass pain.
Amanda took a step closer, spared me a glance. “I got your message, but when I tried to call, the phone was out. Didn’t think I’d be shooting anyone today.”
“It’s been that kind of night.”
She said, “Karl, I’m going to grab one arm and Toby’s going to get the other, and we’re going to drag you as gently as possible into the cell, okay? Then we’ll fetch Doc Gordon. You give us any trouble, and I’ll put another one in you. Understand?”
Karl nodded. His face was a sweaty grimace.
We hauled him into the vacant cell, dropped him on the cot and locked it.
“Toby, put that chair over by the far wall and have a seat.”
I did what she told me.
She slapped one cuff on my wrist, the other to the radiator.
“Oh, come on.”
“I don’t have time to hear your story right now, Toby. Sorry. Can’t take any chances. We’ll see what happens when I get back with the doc.”
“Great.”
She jerked a thumb over her shoulder at the hellcat. “You can start by explaining who the hell that is.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Doc Gordon worked on Karl’s ass in the cell. I heard him tell Karl to hold still, but Karl hissed and bitched every time the doc poked at him. Amanda swung a leg over the edge of the desk, regarded me with her hard, cop eyes.
I’d never have eyes like that, I realized. I’d never make it in the cop business because I wouldn’t be able to put that expression on my face. I knew Amanda, liked her a whole lot better than I’d liked Karl or Billy. She treated me more or less like a fellow deputy, not a part-time errand boy. But right now she was looking at me like some interesting species of bug under a microscope. She’d been a cop back in Eastern Oklahoma. Claremore, I think. She’d said she’d wanted to live farther out in the wilderness, do outdoorsy stuff like hiking and the rock climbing. So here she was in Coyote Crossing just under a year.
Anyway, I knew I wouldn’t be able to lie to those cop eyes. Besides, I needed to tell somebody. Unload. So I started the story at the beginning with losing Luke Jordan’s body. She didn’t seem surprised to hear about me and Molly, and I figured it didn’t really need to be a secret no more anyway since Doris had run off. I told her about the truck full of Mexicans and putting an axe through Billy’s neck and my upside down Nova. I told her about Roy’s big-rig and the hole I put in the Mona Lisa Motel. I told her about my son.
I felt exhausted by the end, put a cigarette in my mouth.
“You’re not supposed to smoke in the stationhouse,” Amanda said.
The look on my face must’ve been the saddest thing in the world because she rolled her eyes and said, “Go ahead then.”
I smiled a weak thank you at her and puffed one to life.
“Where’s the chief?”
I frowned. “I got a bad feeling he’s dead.”
“Why do you say that?”
“He went out to the Jordan’s place and that was the last anyone heard of him.”
“You think the Jordans are part of the smuggling?”
I nodded, puffed.
Doc Gordon came up behind us, cleared his throat for our attention. He wore an undershirt and pajama bottoms and carried a black doctor’s back. The pajama bottoms were green and covered with fish. He was in his late fifties and stooped, hair gone completely white. Round, thick glasses. He looked like a man who didn’t want to be awake.
“How is he?” Amanda asked.
“I cleaned him up,” Gordon said. “And I gave him a shot for pain, so he’s sleeping.
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