Page 155 of Dirty Dylan: Dirty Dusters

“I do. Because she was holding my Glock. And I loaded it before I left home.”

I frown when she exhales loudly. I thought she’d find all this interesting. Obviously not.

“And is there a point to all of this?”

“Yes. Because I also have it on good authority that The Exterminator shot the bad guy in the head.”

Silence. Is Jaine surprised? Does she know who he is? She eventually responds.

“Really. And how do you know this?”

“I was asked to sneak the bullet from the puddle of brains because the sniper doesn’t want anyone to know he was involved.”

Another pause. What’s with all these pauses.

“But you’re telling me?”

“I trust you. You won’t say anything.”

“No, I won’t, but I suggest you don’t mention any of this to anyone else. Rumor has it The Exterminator has a way of finding these things out.”

“Cross my heart and hope to die.”

“I’m sure that could be arranged if you breathe a goddamn word, Jessie.”

“Apparently, Dylan knows who he is.”

“I know Dylan knows who he is.”

“Do you know who he is?”

“You could say that, and before you ask for a name, the answer’s no.”

“Spoilsport.” I huff.

I leave it there. I could pry until I’m blue in the face, but it won’t get me anywhere.

“Speaking of Dylan. Have you spoken to him recently?”

“Earlier today.”

“Anything I should be concerned about?”

“Nope. We were discussing a private matter.”

“Was any of the conversation about me?” I don’t know why I’m asking. Jaine never betrays a confidence.

“Curiosity killed the cat, don’t you know.”

“You can’t tell me?”

“Nope.”

“But I told you my gossip.”

“I didn’t realize it came with conditions attached, meaning I had to reciprocate.”

“Nobody tells me anything.” I huff once more and throw the pom pom back up in the air.

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