The Stranger from Abilene

Chapter 51

The man Vestal had called the Hog was dreaming. It wasn’t a pretty dream, not one of high mountain peaks and blue skies, but one of misery, cruelty, and pain. It was the kind of dream only a man like the Hog could appreciate. Lying back on his leather couch like a gigantic, sweating walrus, he smiled to himself.

Someone tapped on the door.

“What is it?” the Hog yelled, awake.

“A message from your wife, sir. She and Reverend Bates are waiting for you at the church to discuss the roof repairs.”

“Who brought the message?”

“Andy Brown’s boy.”

“Give him a nickel and tell him to inform my wife that I’ll be there in a couple of minutes.”

The Hog stood and primped at his mirror, arranging his thinning hair into kiss curls on each side of his forehead. He smoothed his large mustache, adjusted his cravat and diamond stickpin, and considered himself for a moment.

Yes, he was a fine-looking man. It was no wonder that women gave him sidelong glances when he cut a dash at the church coffee socials.

But he scowled as, unbidden, a jarring thought entered his head. One woman in particular was becoming a problem. Minnie, one of the black girls who worked in town, had been one of his side projects for a few weeks. She was as stupid as a rock, and might let something slip.

The Hog smiled and his reflection smiled right back. No matter, after he got rid of Clayton—the first two incompetents he’d hired for the job had failed him badly—he’d do for Minnie. He might even kill her himself. He’d enjoy that very much.

And who would suspect him of murdering a whore? That is, if anybody cared enough to investigate.

“No one,” he whispered aloud to the smirking fat man in the mirror. “No one in the whole wild world.”