Page 73 of The Killing Plains

Satchel turned back to the ant farm. “I don’t know how.”

“If you can’t use your fists, be a smart-ass. Tell Clay, ‘I’d rather be a Sasquatch than a pile of wet dirt.’ That’s whathisname means.”

Satchel smiled, but he shook his head. “He’d hurt me.”

“You’re gonna get hurt no matter what. But you can take the fun out of it for him.”

Okay, that’s enough, Colly thought, continuing noisily down the steps.

When she entered the living room, Satchel jumped up. “Did you hear what we were talking about?”

“Do I look like an eavesdropper? Listen, Satch, Avery and I need to discuss something. We’re going to walk around the yard. You can play with your ant farm, or watch TV.” Colly handed him her phone. “If you need me, call Avery’s number—I’ve pulled it up.”

In the kitchen, she pulled two longnecks from the fridge. “Russ stocked the place with some basics. I think we both could use a beer.” Colly rummaged in a drawer for a bottle opener.

“You shouldn’t drink with a possible concussion.”

“I’ll risk it.”

Carrying their beers, they went out through the carport and around to the backyard. Colly was surprised to see patches of blue sky through breaks in the clouds.

“Let’s get farther away. I don’t want Satchel hearing this.”

Behind the house, the weed-choked remnants of a footpath led through a pasture to a timber-pole barn. Its wooden siding was ragged with dry rot, the tin roof dimpled by countless hail storms.

“Think it’s safe to go out there?” Colly asked.

“There’s probably rats.”

“I don’t care about rats. It’s snakes I can’t handle.”

“Where there’s one, there’s usually the other. But this time of day we should be fine. Just watch your step.”

The air was surprisingly cool inside the barn. The ground, a pulpy humus of decayed dung and straw, sank beneath their feet, giving off a sweet, musky odor. Colly looked around. Piles of corroded machine parts and rotted tractor tires lined the walls. Doves cooed in the hazy dimness of the rafters.

An overturned metal water trough sat beside a support pole near the door. Colly brushed away the cobwebs and sat down.

“Thanks for meeting me here. From now on, I think it’s wise to keep things between the two of us as much as possible.”

Avery crossed her arms. “Why are we cutting Russ out of the loop? He’s my boss.”

“Russ has a conflict of interest.”

“No more than he did yesterday.”

“Yesterday I didn’t know he’s Lowell’s alibi for the afternoon Denny was killed.”

“Haven’t you read the file?”

“Not thoroughly. I haven’t had time.” Colly paused. It was difficult to know how much to say. But she needed Avery to understand the necessity of discretion. “I know we haven’t gotten off to the best start. But you need to trust me.”

“You think Russ is part of some cover-up?”

“We should err on the side of caution.”

“You’re talking in riddles. Did something happen?”

Colly sighed. “Yes, but it may have an innocent explanation, so I’d rather keep it to myself, for now.”

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