Dead Man Dancing_A Novel by John Galligan

Author:John Galligan [Galligan, John]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: thriller
ISBN: 9781982110734
Goodreads: 52766009
Publisher: Atria Books
Published: 2020-08-11T00:00:00+00:00

* * *

“Stay here, boys,” Sheriff Kick told Taylor and Dylan after Harley had left to start his Hollows Hardball tournament. She took another look around for Terry James Lord. He would try to get her alone again, she believed. “Stay right beside your rabbits. Opie will come up and be with you. Grammy Belle and I are coming right back.”

She guided her mother-in-law firmly by the elbow to a private place behind the stock barns.

“Mom,” she began, triggered by the smell but otherwise ignoring the start of a Marlboro, “did you see that?”

Belle gushed smoke. “See what?”

“What Opie just did. She tried to do the right thing. She felt trapped inside some bigger thing that she felt was wrong. But she tried.”

“If you say so.”

“I think that’s what you did too, yesterday. Something happened that was wrong. That kid got himself nearly killed in an illegal prize fight. You tried to help him. What happened? Mom, talk to me.”

She took a drag. She turned her head and shot smoke from her nose. Her eyes darted to the sheriff’s and away. “You just said what happened,” she rasped finally. “He got beat up in a fight. A cage fight. I didn’t know they took him somewhere else or tried to stop him from leaving. I just found him on the road.”

“They? Who?”

“I don’t know who runs the fights. I don’t wanna know.”

“Where was the fight?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

She coughed for a while and seemed weakened. “OK, whatever. This time it was at Steinbeck Auto. Out on the property behind their back building. It was a nice night, so they did it outside. None of my passengers knew where they were.”

She paused to catch her breath. Her glance seemed resentful.

“But don’t bother Steinbeck because he ain’t got nothing to do with it. And it’s never in the same place twice. That’s how they do it. The fight moves around. It doesn’t take much to set up a cage and a betting window. Nobody cares where the fights are as long as they get there. They’re all good and drunk by the time I deliver.”

“But you—”

“I drive the party bus. That’s it. I go where my boss tells me. Once or twice a week I pick a group up at Mudcat’s, fifty bucks to get on board. We hit a half dozen bars and then about midnight I take ’em to the fight, wherever that is. I sit around and wait and then I take ’em back to Mudcat’s when it’s over.”

“But why—” the sheriff began again.

“It’s called making a living. Some people don’t work for the government.”

“But you found this injured kid. Why not call 911?”

“Because then I’d have to tell about the fights. If I do that, I’m out of a damn job.”

Belle looked away in the direction of the temporary RV camp where the festival workers stayed. She sucked hard and exhaled.

“I never get out of the bus. Those are my orders. I don’t know who’s running that show. After I picked up this kid, I called my boss.

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