Page 36 of Brimstone Hollow

Dishman’s mouth pushes up into a smirk. He shakes his head with an attitude I confess I’m not unfamiliar with. One that silently, reluctantly says,The balls on this woman.

“Fine,” he says. He turns and clears his throat and the crowd disperses as he starts back into the square. Tina and I follow along behind him through the whispering throng, where we hear my name, Dishman’s name, and Dean’s name all blended together in a simmering, gossipy soup. We ignore them and march over to a clot of people setting up tables and chairs for lunch. My borrowed Bronco is sitting just beyond the roadblock on the other side of them and I glance at it to make sure it’s still okay. After seeing the damage to Honey, I’m suddenly feeling protective and edgy.

“Where is he?” I ask Dishman when he turns away from the group and back to me.

“Shit,” Dishman says, confused. “I know I just saw him.”

I notice Will Carpenter carrying two chairs past and grab him by the arm. He jumps like a startled cat and then breathes out aphewwhen he registers that it’s me.

“Sorry,” he says. “I said I’d help set up for lunch but—”

“Have you seen Dean Griffon?” Dishman asks him, cutting in.

“Mr. Griffon?” Will says. “He was just here. He got a text and said he had to go. I didn’t think he meantright now.But I don’t see him or his truck anywhere. Must’ve been some kind of emergency.”

“Seriously?” I say, glaring at Dishman. “The guy probably heard we were coming to talk to him and split. He could be leaving town. Come on, we need to question him.”

Dishman’s jaw clenches and unclenches and then finally he says, “Fine. All right, we can walk up to the station and I’ll get a cruiser.”

“No,” I say. “My car’s closer. Well, the car I’m borrowing. Come on.”

I think I’m about to get another bullheaded argument, but instead, he just shrugs, apparently defeated.

“I’m gonna hang around here,” Tina says. “Get some funnel cake, maybe jump in the sack race.” She leans closer to me and whispers, “I’m not leaving town until we’ve talked.”

“I’ll send an officer to check for prints on the underside of your car,” Dishman says, more to Tina than me.

She grins at him and then I turn and scythe through the crowd to the old Bronco, while Dishman trails me, already calling the station. We both hop in and I maneuver away from the square, heading north according to Dishman’s directions.

“So what’s your plan here?” Dishman asks. “You’re just gonna march up to his door and ask if he monkeyed with your brakes last night?”

“Pretty much,” I say, as he points me onto an old two-lane highway. “Look, I’m only in town to find out what happened to Ezra King. I was only here a few hours before someone cut my brakes, which tells me that Katiewasn’t wrong. Something was squirrelly about her dad’s death, and me asking questions stirred someone to action. Right now it looks like Dean is probably that someone so—”

“So, you’re just gonna corner him—a guy who might’ve tried to get you killed or at least scared off last night—and ask him what?”

“I’ll figure it out when I get there.”

He exhales sharply through his nose and shakes his head. After a couple of minutes, he points me onto another road. As I whip the Bronco around a curve, he tugs at his seat belt.

“Damn,” he says suddenly, looking around at the interior of the car. “This is Hollis Patton’s old Bronco, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. I’m staying at his motel. He loaned it to me this morning.”

Dishman whistles.

“What?” I ask.

“He loves this thing. I can’t believe he let someone else drive it.”

“Really?” I say with a surprised laugh. “He played it off like this was some old clunker he didn’t care about.”

Dishman’s silent for a few moments and, when I glance at him, he’s grinning at me.

“What?” I ask. “What is it?”

He chuckles, shaking his head, and watches the road ahead while he says, “I’m just getting the feeling you know how to bully folks into getting what you want.”

“Maybe,” I say. “Or maybe I’m just so charming as to be irresistible.”