Peckerwood by Ayres Jedidiah

Author:Ayres, Jedidiah [Ayres, Jedidiah]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Crime
Publisher: Broken River Books
Published: 2013-12-20T16:00:00+00:00

CHOWDER

Irm arrived at the cabin huffing. Chowder watched her crest the hill and then awkwardly descend. The physical effort broke down some of her attitude. When she reached him, he gestured for her to sit with him on the porch, which she was obliged to do. They sat in silence for a moment while she caught her breath. He dug at the skin under his fingernails and dabbed some blood off his arms with his t-shirt.

“The fuck did you go last night?”

“Had something to do.”

“Hey. Look at me.”

She did and the way her feet dangled from the porch, Chowder saw her as a petulant grade-schooler again, trying to prove something to the whole world and him most of all.

“Do what I fucking say.”

Irm’s eyes rolled and she looked away.

“Think I’m kidding?” He stared hard at her until she shook her head slowly. “Need to know that I can count on you.” He gestured toward the horizon as if to take in the whole world. “Who else do I have? Your mom? She ain’t gonna be around forever. Sheriff? He ain’t like us. Tate? He ain’t blood.” She looked at his knees. “Can I count on you or should I fold up shop?”

“You serious?”

Chowder nodded. “Getting old.”

“I keep noticing.”

Chowder didn’t quite smile. “Got a good arrangement with the sheriff here. Could maybe pass that on.” He raised his eyebrows slightly. “But I need to be sure.”

“Okay.”

“Partnership. Mondale has to be sure too.”

“I don’t like him.”

“I know. He knows. Liking’s got less to do with it than you think.”

She nodded slowly.

“Can you?”

She nodded more definitely, then whispered, “Yeah.”

“What?”

“I said, ‘yes.’”

“Okay then.” He struggled to stand. “First order of business: help me stand up.” She hopped off the porch, climbed the stair and offered her father her arm. He grabbed it and together they put him upright. He winced at the contact. There were some nasty scratches on his arms. “Next.” He motioned with a nod of his head for her to follow him inside.

When they entered the kitchen, Irm took in the scene. The table was turned over and a pair of legs in dirty jeans stuck out on the far side of it. She walked around to get a better look at the body.

“Know its name?” Chowder asked.

“Dale something,” she answered. “Tate knew him from Jeff City.”

“Yeah well, I’m gonna talk to Tate about that.”

“Happened?”

“Had to be let go.”

Irm looked at the bloody scratches on Chowder’s arms. “Why didn’t you just shoot?”

Chowder cocked his head sideways. “C’mon, Irma.” He took a deep whiff of the room. “Same reason I ain’t gonna smoke a cigarette or use the stove in here. Which reminds me, get a new coffee maker. That one?” He gestured at the counter, “is disgusting.”

She nodded, and took a closer look at Dale something. One of his front teeth was dangling into his mouth by a gory thread. His nose was flattened to his skull and blood trails snaked out of what was left of the nostrils, running into the cracks and spaces between the tile underneath him.

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