Butcherville by Chris Kelsey

Author:Chris Kelsey [Kelsey, Chris]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781684334254
Publisher: Black Rose Writing
Published: 2020-01-22T22:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Keith caught on quick.

“You think Tyler had something to do with Earl Collins’ disappearance?”

“I do.”

“Mind telling me why?”

I explained how Darryl Martin fingered Tyler as the driver of the Willys parked in front of the Butcherville Store when Earl was last seen. I related what Merle's abductors had told him about playing ball with Clyde, and how, on top of everything, Tyler works—worked—at WestOK, meaning Clyde was his boss.

“And Clyde might be behind this whole thing,” Keith said.

I let that hang in the air.

“Tyler had another fella with him,” I said. “Darryl couldn’t see who it was, but it must’ve been Tommy Drury. Those two had to have been the ones who snatched Earl.”

“Makes sense,” Keith said. “I don’t see them as the brains behind this, though. I didn’t know Tyler, of course, but if he’s hanging around with Drury, I don’t reckon he’s Nobel Prize material.”

I laughed despite myself. “Clyde could be the brains, but there’s no way he gets his hands dirty on this. He’s too wily. There’s got to be someone else.”

“Stands to reason,” said Keith. “You wouldn’t think they’d hurt the boy, seeing that they’re trying to blackmail his daddy into selling his property.”

“Tyler and Drury must’ve handed Earl off to someone before they went after Merle,” I said.

We just don’t know who it is.

I didn’t have time to think about it too much. The little spot on the highway had become overcrowded with Highway Patrol and sheriff’s deputies, although Burt Murray was notably absent. That statue dedication must’ve gone into overtime.

There was no keeping Karen away. She'd called-in Jeff to mind the store, then paged Bernard at the orthodontist and shanghaied Kenny at the Oklahoma Tire & Supply. I will confess to being glad to see her pull up in that little turquoise-blue Ford Falcon of hers. She walked right up to me without saying a word and gave me a big hug. She smelled good and felt nice in my arms.

Those medics from Pate’s know their stuff. You’d never even guess they work for a business that specializes in burying its customers. They did whatever on-the-spot doctoring they could, then loaded Merle into the combination ambulance/hearse. One of them offered to bandage up my knees. I thanked him but declined, told them I’d be taking a shower soon, which meant I’d have to do it all over again. They said they thought Merle would be fine, but he’d more than likely be taken to Baptist Hospital in Oklahoma City, which was better equipped to treat gunshot wounds.

After a few minutes of gentle interrogation, I was allowed to go about my business. Given that this was the first time I’d shot someone in the line of duty, I was a little foggy on the chain of command— specifically, whether the sheriff or the OSBI or Highway Patrol had the right to take my gun or suspend me or maybe feed me to a pack of wolves.

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