Trine by Chris Faraday

Author:Chris Faraday
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781915202628
Publisher: Watkins Media
Published: 2023-03-15T00:00:00+00:00

TWENTY-SIX

Little Moxie and his wife lived in a spacious old rancher adjacent to that newer subdivision where the governmental offices were located. Joseph eased the SUV to a halt at the end of their long driveway.

“Garage doors are up but his Escalade’s gone,” Joseph announced. “His wife’s car isn’t here either.”

Brad, supine on the back seat, hadn’t been expecting much from the visit. But he experienced disappointment anyway. It already seemed like a wasted effort, bringing them no closer to finding Kristen. He started to rise.

“No, stay down. We’re close to the township complex.”

“How close?”

“You can see police headquarters from Little Moxie’s side porch.”

“Wonderful. So why are we still here?”

“Big Moxie might be around and know his son’s whereabouts. He lives with them now.”

“Since when?” The last Brad had heard, Big Moxie had a place on Lakamoxin Street in Gracious, within walking distance of the Bar & Grill.

“He had a hunting accident last December. Got shot. In a wheelchair, permanently from what I hear. Had to sell his own place and move in with the kid.”

“I still say this is a waste of–”

“Shh,” Joseph urged. “He just came out the front door. He’s motoring down the porch ramp, coming our way.”

Joseph got out of the vehicle. The SUV’s windows were lowered, and the two men were close enough for Brad to eavesdrop.

“Joseph LeFevre, you old Creole buttwipe. What brings your sorry ass out here?”

Wheelchair-bound or not, Big Moxie’s gravelly tone and insult-laden phrasing hadn’t changed. Before he’d retired from a long career bartending, Brad recalled that there were few individuals, organizations or institutions he wouldn’t trash. Often to their faces, and in the most colorfully insensitive language imaginable, a trait that obviously had been passed on to Little Moxie. Uncle Zack used to say the tavern portion of the Bar & Grill was where you went for a cold beer and a hot insult.

“I need to talk to Little M,” Joseph said. “Expecting him back soon?”

“Not till tonight. Drove over to Wilkes-Barre, supposedly to set up a deal with a new beer distributor. But it’s just an excuse to blow his wad at the casino.”

“Got a phone number?”

“Sure. But trust me, he won’t answer when he’s at the blackjack table or feedin’ the slots.”

“Candice with him?”

“Are you kidding? She hates that gambling shit. Down in Delaware, visiting her folks.”

“I suppose you heard about the fire,” Joseph said.

“Yeah. Hell of a thing. Zack Manderbach always had a broomstick up his butt but he was a straight shooter. Nipa too.” There was long pause. “They find the kids yet?”

“Not that I know.”

“I hear those shake-a-dick cops are lookin’ at Brad for torching the place. He was always a wild son of a bitch, but no way do I see him wasting his own family. Moron cops. Most of ’em can’t tell the difference between a fudgesicle and a fartsicle.”

“Brad would never hurt his own,” Joseph agreed.

“So whaddya want with Little M?”

Joseph seemed to hesitate, prompting Big Moxie to growl, “What’s going on,

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