13 French Street by Gil Brewer

Author:Gil Brewer [Brewer, Gil]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Fiction, Mystery & Detective, General
ISBN: 9781440542077
Google: EUU9g9XiZqMC
Publisher: F+W Media, Inc.
Published: 1979-01-01T11:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

I NEARLY missed seeing the man in the middle of the road. The house was just a short way around another bend. The man stood nonchalantly in the middle of the road and flagged me down. I started to drive past slowly on his right, but he leaped in front of the car.

“What do you want?” I shouted out the window, stopping the car.

He grinned, lounged quietly up to the side of the car, and stood there. He was chewing tobacco, a man of perhaps thirty or so, raw-boned almost to the extent of cadaverousness. He turned, spat a long string of brown juice, then fastened slitted, bloodshot eyes on me. “Mr. Bland,” he said.

“Yes.”

He grinned again. His lips were loose, his mouth broad, his teeth very square and outlined in black. His mouth trembled when he grinned. He wore ragged blue jeans, a pale-washed blue denim shirt, and a battered, sweat-stained felt hat of no color.

“Mister,” he said, “drive the car in them bushes.” He pointed to some bushes off the side of the road.

“What the hell’s the matter with you?” I said. “Get out of the way.”

One big dirt-grimed hand, knuckle bones nearly showing through the skin, grasped the window ledge. He shook his head. “Nope. I seen it. I seen it all. Now, ram your damn car in them bushes like I say.” He ceased chewing and stared at me with his mouth open, then he grinned again. “Come on,” he said, slapping my shoulder. He hitched his own shoulders. His arms hung loose at his sides. He chewed and spat on the left front fender of the car.

We watched each other for a while.

“What was it you say you saw?”

He grinned. “Hell, mister. The old lady. I seen that dame push the old lady out that there window. I seen plenty.” He winked grotesquely and hitched his shoulders. “Hurry up, ‘fore I get a wind up, damn it.”

I drove the car into the bushes. He came in after me. I got out of the car and faced him. He was about my height, with a slouch. He carried himself with a slouch. He smelled strongly of the barnyard, and of wet tobacco.

“Played a mite too far, hey?”

“You’d better explain yourself,” I said. He looked wise and jumpy, overexcitable. He scrubbed a hand across the dirty stubble on his face and spat again. Some of it splashed on my shoes. “Who are you?” I asked. I could feel everything tightening up, like when you swim down into very deep water and begin to want air in a hurry.

“She wouldn’t never come across for me,” he said. He mused on it for a while.

I turned and started to get back into the car. He grabbed my shoulder, whirled me around. I slammed at his arm. He stepped off, blinked at me, and grinned. “Wouldn’t if I were you, mister.”

“All right. What do you want?”

“I’m the hired hand down to Corey’s.”

“Corey’s?”

He gestured. “Next farm, down there a piece.” He chewed and spat.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.