The Dead Certain Doubt by Jim Nesbitt

The Dead Certain Doubt by Jim Nesbitt

Author:Jim Nesbitt
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pen2Publishing


Whenever you want a solid citizen to spill the beans, never travel in a straight line. And never ask too many questions.

Just enough to get them started. Get them talking. Get them telling you a story. Their story.

Nudge them just enough to steer that tale in the right direction.

Then shut the fuck up and let them take you there, riding along in the passenger seat, looking interested, paying attention. Listening, not talking.

A ‘yup’ or a ‘you bet’ will do. Or a one-sentence comment, playing off something the solid citizen just said.

Let them take the long way around the barn. The scenic route.

Don’t press. Don’t push. You got all the time in the world.

Goes double if they don’t know you’re a cop or a shamus.

“How were the gun gals?”

“Alright, I guess. Not as many of the ones I like to shoot and cut up with this time.”

“’Cause of that young gal who left?”

“Could be. We all kind of took to her – the ones I like, that is. She had the others eatin’ out of her hand, too. But we’re the ones she favored once the lessons were over.”

Her head was cradled in the crook of his right elbow. She started tracing his chest hairs again with her thick fingers.

“Kind of a shame her leavin’. Said she grew up near Dallas but hadn’t been home in a long time. Made it sound like she had to leave and didn’t think she could go back. Thought she found a home here but was wrong and had to leave here, too.”

“Damn shame.”

“You bet. She and boyfriend just lit out and got gone. No number or forwarding address. That kind of deal. You ask about her ‘round here and get a dead-eyed stare and silence, so I quit askin’. I like to think her and him found a better place, settled down and started makin’ babies, but I don’t know.”

Burch kept his mouth shut and stroked her hair, still tangled from sex and sleep.

“Wish like hell I could find out what happened to her. Only person I can think of who might know is Nancy Jo. Nancy Jo Quartermain. I remember her last name because it’s so unusual. She was the cook here. A real grandmotherly type. She and Rita were bosom buddies, but she’s gone too.”

Burch filed away the name as he caressed her shoulder.

“Can’t say I like the silent treatment you got. Not a damn thing either one of us can do, but it does make you wonder.”

“Wonder and hope for the best.”

He kissed her. She stretched like a big cat then snuggled closer. He let the seconds tick by then lit two Luckies and placed one between her lips. They both took deep drags and jetted smoke toward the ceiling.

“I met a ranch hand while stretchin’ my legs. Fella named Bohannon. Seemed like the real deal.”

“Wiley? He’s a sweetheart. If enough folks want to go on a ride, he’s the one that leads it. He knows horses and cattle like a preacher knows his Bible verses.



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