Rain Gods (Hackberry Holland 2)

?You should have left your beard, or maybe just trimmed or dyed it,? Bobby Lee said.

?Something eating on you??

Yeah, there was. But exactly how much information could he trust Liam with? Bobby Lee bit on his lip and thought about it.

Liam grinned, showing the gaps in his teeth, and locked down a pump shotgun in a machinist vise that was bolted to the bed of his truck. He had already wood-rasped the stock into a pistol grip and machine-sanded the wood smooth. He set the hacksaw blade flush with the pump and began sawing.

?I think I?ve figured out where the soldier boy is living,? Bobby Lee said.

?How?d you do that?? Liam asked, still grinning.

?He led me south, then way to hell and gone out east. I think he?s probably about the same distance in the exact opposite direction.?

?You were always good at ciphering things out, Bobby Lee. Matter of bloodline, maybe,? Liam said. ?I?m referring to the fact that Robert E. Lee is in your pedigree.?

Was Liam coming on wise? Bobby Lee narrowed his eyes. All right, let?s take a run at it, he thought. ?We?ve worked lots of gigs, me and you.?

?We?ve splattered the walls, bud. They?re never gonna know who did any of it, either,? Liam said.

?But this current deal has gotten complicated.? Bobby Lee let his words hang in the air.

Liam stopped sawing, not raising his eyes. He wiped the cut in the shotgun?s barrel with an oily rag. ?Does this have something to do with that call you got from Hugo??

?Hugo says we get rid of the girl and the soldier. Then we do Nick Dolan and his wife, with special instructions for the wife. Then we do Preacher.?

Liam began sawing again, his back turned to Bobby Lee. ?I suspect I misheard you on that last part.?

?Jack cut off Artie Rooney?s finger, and now he?s shaking him down for a half mil. Hugo says it?s time for Jack to join the Hallelujah Chorus.?

Liam turned around. ?Do Preacher? You?re actually serious? You haven?t started fooling with acid again??

?I?m taking you into my confidence, Liam. I don?t like the way things have turned out. But Preacher is slipping. I think it?s because of the deal behind the church.?

?Yeah, well, nobody planned that one. If that?s on anybody, it?s on Hugo.?

?You in or not, Liam??

?Cap Preacher? That?s like trying to kill death.?

?He?s got a weakness. It?s got something to do with sugar. Or candy or pastry. I don?t get it. But he?s got something wrong with him. A hooker I knew said Jack almost died once because of something he ate.?

?You?re that scared of him?? Without waiting for an answer, Liam casually resumed cutting off the shotgun?s barrel, the muscles in his back rippling like warm tallow as he worked.

Bobby Lee felt a blood vessel pulse in his temple. He took a sip of his beer before he spoke. ?Want to add anything to that last remark??

?Why would I want to do that??

?Because I?m having a little trouble handling it.?

?I was talking about myself. Preacher scares the hell out of me. He?s a mean motor scooter and crazy besides.?

Bobby Lee started to speak again but this time held his tongue. He cracked open another beer and drank from it, realizing irrefutably that he had made his problems worse by taking Liam into his confidence. He had stood up for Liam with Preacher, and this was what he got for it. Liam was no different from any other gutter rat in the business. He had no mercy, either. He had proved that when he went to work on the owner of the diner, what-was-his-name, Junior Kraut Face or something. Now Bobby Lee had both Preacher and Liam to worry about, plus the fact that he hadn?t gotten paid, plus the fact that Preacher had popped a federal agent, which was sure to bring down a ton of heat on all of them.

Liam finished sawing through the shotgun?s barrel and sailed it across the creek bed into a cluster of sandstone boulders. He listened as the barrel tinkled and rolled down the side of a ravine. He begin fitting a series of twelve-gauge shells into the magazine, pushing them in with his thumb until the spring in the loading tube came tight. ?I already took out the sportsman?s plug,? he said. ?Five double-aught bucks. You want to see the paint fly? These babies can do it.?

He aimed at a jackrabbit running across the hardpan, leading it with the sawed tip of the barrel, one eye closed. Then he breathed out a popping sound and lowered the gun. He grinned and smacked Bobby Lee on the shoulder, causing him to spill beer down the front of his shirt. ?Relax, enjoy the time you got,? Liam said. ?That?s my philosophy. Life?s a party, right??

Bobby Lee took a drink from his bottle, eyeing Liam with the caution he would show a snake coiled in the shade of scrub brush.