Side by Side

65

After Max Randall’s second heated phone call, Peanut leaned against his truck, thinking. Max was on his way, and the Russian, Sarnov, was tagging along. Peanut couldn’t see why they were wasting their gas. He figured he was going to be the only loser in this deal. One, he probably was going to have trouble collecting the kidnap-and-killing fee on the Dockerys that Bryce was supposed to pay Laughlin, even though the woman and kid had been kidnapped and killed successfully, which was the point and it shouldn’t matter so much-check the damn small print-how or when. And second, he had lost prime buildings and two Smoot-blood employees who would be a sight more difficult to replace than structures. Third thing was, none of this mess was his fault. The fire was obviously an act of God-an accident. Of course Sarnov would do his communist best to keep him from collecting one red cent. Peanut doubted Randall, who was pretty danged upset, would go to bat to get Peanut his money. And Peanut wasn’t getting points in the arms deals in the future, which didn’t sit right, considering that Laughlin was getting plenty.

The county sheriff, a first cousin of Peanut’s wife by marriage, was going to earn his five-grand pay envelope this month. Although, at the moment, he was busy over at the Grissom place because Mr. Grissom, twice his wife’s age, had murdered her and disappeared. Sheriff Sparkes was making sure the fire department stayed away from Peanut’s place, ordering his deputies to tell the volunteers there was no need for them out here, because everything was under control, and being investigated and monitored by the sheriff, who would call the fire boys if he needed their help.

The deputies would let Max Randall and his pals through, but nobody else. Maybe Peanut would ask for more money since he was using his valuable contacts to keep the scene off-limits. Randall had said to make sure the scene was sanitized, which Peanut assumed meant cleaning up the body parts after the fire cooled off. Hell, a fire like this one didn’t leave body parts.

The sound of hollering drew his attention. He turned to see one of the twins pelting up the road, waving his flashlight around like he was being chased by a swarm of hornets. Peanut took a deep breath and scratched his head. The twins hadn’t had time to get to the gate, so why in the hell was one of them disobeying his orders so soon?

It was Burt, and he was so winded, he had to sag against the truck to catch his breath before he could say anything that Peanut could understand.

“Traaaack. . woooon’t beeee. . lieve it. .”

“What the Sam Hill are you doing back here, boy?” Peanut slapped the back of his son’s head so hard Burt’s forehead hit the side of the truck.

“It’s her. .” Burt wheezed, putting a huge hand to his reddening cheek. “She’s not. . dead. She left footprints a ways up in the mud.”

“Dixie?” Peanut felt a wave of relief. “My baby’s alive?”

“Naw. Dixie’s feet are big as mine. It’s a bunch of little bitty gal tracks, headed out toward the gate. Curt’s following them and I came back here to get you.”

“Get in the truck,” Peanut growled. He jumped into the cab, made a U-turn in the grass, and roared off. He grabbed the phone and pressed Redial as he drove.

One thing he never imagined was possible was that that little gal could escape from Dixie and Buck. The damned barn door padlock was still in place and locked. He had seen that for himself. How in the hell could she have got out of there without turning into a ghost and walking through the walls? She’d tell him how she did it before he filled her sorry ass with holes.