Page 59 of Trouble Comes in Threes

“And the other guy was upset he’d done it?” I asked, restating what he’d previously said.

“Yeah. Like upset enough that I thought he was gonna shoot that guy too.”

“Did they try to help the guy they shot?” I asked.

He shook his head. “No. He got shot in the head, and it was pretty obvious he was dead.” His face paled even more.

“Ever seen someone killed before, kid?” Dermot asked.

Austin shook his head. “No, sir.”

“It’s gonna stick in there for a while, but don’t try to ignore it or shove it down. That’s only gonna make it worse. When all of this is settled, I have someone you can talk to.”

“Like a shrink?” Austin asked in dismay.

“A therapist,” Dermot said, “and you can trust him.”

Neely Kate gave me a surprised look, but I lifted my shoulders into a barely discernable shrug. Dermot was a nurse practitioner before he’d gone full time in the criminal world. I didn’t know how the career change had taken place, but it stood to reason mental health would be important to him too.

“So after they shot him, what did they do?” Dermot asked.

“They argued for a bit, then decided to bury him out back. One of them drove his truck around to the big open windows on the west side of the building—they don’t have any glass, so you can just climb in and out.”

We were aware of that too.

“So they hauled him out the window into the truck?” I asked.

“Yeah.” He swallowed. “Only they didn’t have anything to wrap him in, and the second guy, who seemed to be in charge, made the guy who’d shot him carry the end with his head. He complained that he was getting blood and brains on his shirt and his new boots, but the other guy just said if he hadn’t shot the one guy they needed to talk to, he wouldn’t be gettin’ blood and brains on his shoes. He’d be lucky if he didn’t get worse from the big guy.”

“Big guy?” Dermot asked.

“Yeah. I figured he was the guy in charge.” He snuck a fearful glance at Dermot.

“You thought I was the big guy?” Dermot asked without accusation.

“Yeah.”

“And now you believe that I’m not?”

Austin looked over at me, then nodded. “Yeah. Lady said I could trust you.”

I was floored that he’d already given me such blanket trust.

“So what happened after they left?” Dermot asked.

“I heard their truck drive off, and after a minute or so, I crept out of the room and saw all the blood and…” He swallowed again. “Stuff and figured if the police found out that I’d been staying there, they might think I was the one who did it. So I figured if I found ‘em, I could prove they’d killed the guy, and I wouldn’t be charged with it.”

“So why not go to the police?” I asked.

He snorted in disgust. “You think they’re gonna believe me?”

“They would if there’s a body,” Neely Kate said.

He snorted again. “Goes to show what you know. They treat all teenagers from Pickle Junction like trash. I wasn’t gonna take my chances.”

“Let’s go back to after they took the body out,” I said. “How did you know they were gonna bury it behind the parking lot?”

“I didn’t, but when I climbed out the window, I saw the lights from the truck in the back. So I kept low and headed back there. I was surprised that the guy who was the shooter was actually digging a grave.”

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