“Yeah, I guess so. I didn’t find it until the next day. Whoever threw it really let go. He’d have to clear that brush. If it had landed in the brush, you’d have needed a chain saw to get at it.”
“After you found it, did you check the clip? Had it been fired?”
“No, ma’am. I mean I checked the clip, and it was full. There wasn’t one in the chamber.”
“How many shots did you hear?”
“Just the one.”
“You know enough about guns to guess what it was?”
“Not really. Anyway, you don’t have to guess. It had to be that Smith and Wesson thirty-two.”
He was right about that. “Did you hear a car drive away?”
“Yeah, I heard the doors slam…”
“How many doors?”
“Two. I guess that means there was two of them.”
“I guess so. What did the car sound like?”
“Like a car—not a truck. Like a regular car. Kind of sporty, maybe. You know how some of them sporty cars sound?”
“Like a Ferrari or something?”
“Nah, I’d know that sound. Like something that wanted to be a Ferrari, you know? Something cheaper.”
“Which way did it go?”
“I reckon it made a U-turn and went north.”
“What are your plans, Sam?”
“Plans? I ain’t got no plans. I’m just hangin’.”
Holly shook her head. “No. I want you out of here.”
“Out of the campsite?”
“Not just that. Out of Orchid, out of the county.”
“How come?”
“You want to be busted on the cocaine charge? Nobody planted that.”
“I, uh, see your point,” he said.
“I want you gone before dark,” she said.
“Yes, ma’am, and thank you for not busting me on the drugs. They was just recreational, only for my own use, you know; I wasn’t dealing nothing.”
“Fine, just pack it up and go,” she said.
“Can I check back with you to see if you find my Colt thirty-two?”
“Sam, you’re pressing your luck.”