Blood Country Read Online Free Page A

must be dealing drugs.”
“Any proof?”
The boy cleared his throat and then said in a quiet voice, “I heard them.”
“You heard them?”
“Yeah, I snuck over there and sat under his dining room window when some people came over. They said they got a big deal going down. Sounds like cocaine. Is that what they make crack out of?”
“Yeah. Right.”
“Someone’s bringing in a big shipment in a week or two, and they were lining up their dealers to come and get it.”
“Okay. I’ll check on this.” He realized he didn’t know this boy’s name. “Son, what’s your name?”
“I don’t know if I can tell you that.”
Jacobs could find out by talking to the boy’s grandmother. A fine woman, Patsy Lingon. She had made him a whole plate of lefse when he told her she would be getting her money back. At first he didn’t know what to do with the lefse , but she explained, put a little butter on them and some jam and have them for breakfast. The plate had lasted him a week, and he missed having the lefse . Maybe he should go back and visit her anyway.
“ ‘Spose I can tell you. It’s Brandon, but my friends just call me Brand.”
“Okay, Brandon. We need to make a deal here. I won’t say anything to your mother at this time if you promise me that you won’t go near that house again, not look at it, not walk near it, nothing. That clear?”
“Yup.”
“Do you keep promises?”
“Yes, sir, I do.”
“So you promise me you’ll stay away from that guy?”
“I promise.”
Jacobs got the address and told Brandon he would keep him posted. When he hung up the phone, he sank back down in his chair. Maybe he’d just keep it like this. Sitting a foot off the floor would keep a person humble. He stared at the piece of paper where he had written the name Red.
S UCH A LITTLE bird and so full of itself. Claire watched the wren land on the tip of Landers’ satellite dish and sing its liquid warble. Its song made the world a better place, which it sorely needed to be this morning. She was standing by the gate at the end of Landers’ walk, waiting for reinforcements, as they say.
She wasn’t sure what her role would be in all of this. So far on the squad, she had been just one of the guys, ticketing speeders, checking on intruders, supervising parades. But the sheriff knew she had worked on homicide cases. She wouldn’t let go of this one if she didn’t have to.
As she watched, a car drove up. She knew the car, and she knew the woman who was driving it. What was Darla doing here? Darla Anderson, Landers’ sister-in-law, got out of her car. A well-preserved seventy-something woman, she stood in the sunlight adjusting her clothes and holding an aluminum cake pan with a slide-on cover. Her frosted blond hair, probably dyed to hide the gray, shimmered in the sun, a brilliant fluorescent, totally artificial color. She was wearing a pink sweatshirt with rhinestones embedded in it and a matching pair of stretch pants.
In her nine months of living across the street from Landers, Claire had never seen Darla come over to visit, not even when Landers’ brother, her husband, Fred, showed up. But she knew Darla, had met her at various functions: the church ice-cream social, the Halloween party at the Fort, and at the election held in the village hall. Darla didn’t let an event go by without participating in it. As Claire recalled, she had dressed as Eva Gabor from Green Acres at the Halloween party and had even tried to talk like her. After she downed a couple Tequila Sunrises, the accent had improved.
Claire walked out from the yard to greet her. She didn’t particularly want Darla to see Landers, even if Darla wasn’t one of her favorite people. Claire felt like Landers wouldn’t have wanted Darla to see him either. He had never said a bad word about Darla, but he never said a good one.
“What can I do for you, Mrs. Anderson?” Claire stopped her by the hood of the car.
Darla smiled, and wrinkles creased her face, lining