Chapter 13

Luther cried on seeing them. He hurried them from the hotel lobby to the trailer-and Dex insisted that they leave town at once. Brenda was trembling; her face, hair and clothes were a mess. There was blood streaked here and there on her skin and blouse.

Luther was so upset that Dex slid behind the wheel and punched the starter. Several miles out of town, he pulled to the shoulder of the road and went back to the trailer. Luther had calmed her and cleaned her up.

"We killed that man," she said, "I know he was dead-"

Luther had already given her a drink; he gave her another and poured one for Dex. Then he put her to bed.

In the cab of the pick-up, Dex told Luther what had occurred.

"I went to that damn Marshal," Luther said, growling. "And her back in that fuckin' jail all the time!"

"He took us in there just to get at her," Dex drove the car, heading south. "But they didn't hurt her-"

"Well, they got what they d'served."

"Yeh."

At the first intersection they turned southeast, and Dex settled down to drive till morning. He had little worry that their names would be on any booking list at the jail.

By morning the speedometer said they were nearly two hundred miles from the jail. The had made good distance on the long, straight roads. Dex had pushed the pick-up hard. They stopped at first light, Dex and Luther huddled over a map.

"Best go thisaway," Luther traced a route south and east. "I know that country-hill country. Beeson's a good town."

Dex nodded and climbed back behind the wheel.

At a crossroads store they stopped and Luther went inside; he came back with a sackful of food and milk bottles. They ate in the cab and went on. "No radio in there," Luther said.

They were not pursued. At noon they stopped for gas and water and Dex dawdled by the gas station office where a radio played loudly. When the announcer recited the list of local happenings, the death of a deputy and the near fatal wounding of another by a local man, Dex thrust his hands into his pockets. He was shaking. He went back to the pick-up where Brenda sat.

"One of 'em's dead," he said through tight lips. "I jus' heard the radio."

"Which one?"

"They didn't say. Other one's bad. They think Arne did it."

She gasped and he looked at her and shook his head. "They won't do nothing to him."

Luther joined them and Dex repeated the news. Luther looked relieved. He got in and put the car in gear. They rode in silence. After an hour he pulled off the road and went back to the trailer, reappearing with a bottle.

He passed the bottle around, without glasses. "We owes ourseiVes a drink."

They tipped it up, gurgling. When they went on it was in a different frame of mind. The oppressive weight was gone. Luther even sang snatches of tune as he drove.

That night they stopped in a shacky little town and put up at the only hotel, the Halimon, run by a man of that name.

Halimon was short and fat, but not great. He had a stern, gray face, apparently a man of few words. Luther, looking at him, rubbed his jaw: "Got me an idee that feller would listen to a proposition-"

"Jesus," Brenda said, "this town hasn't got ten dollars in the whole burg."

"Don't be too sure."

"Let's get on to Beeson-"

"It's half a day's drive from here." Luther rose and went over to Halimon. Dex shrugged at Brenda and lit another cigarette. Luther was hoping to make back the hotel bill. They watched him and Halimon talking, then retreating into Halimon's office behind the little desk.

Dex went outside and looked at the trailer. He admitted to himself that he was nervous. Too recently he had helped murder the deputy-murder? They were crawling in violence, the three of them. First the girl, then the two deputies. They were in an explosive business, dealing in emotion. He looked inside to see Brenda still waiting patiently. Jesus, he wanted her! After all the screwing, he still wanted her bad. His life seemed a chaos.

Luther hadn't locked the trailer. Dex circled it in the dusk. The money Luther was saving was inside-so close and yet so far. He opened the door and glanced inside. Too dark; he couldn't see a thing without lights.

Brenda came out to the sidewalk. "What'a you want?"

"Just nervous." He joined her, hands deep in his pockets. "Guess I want to move, get the fuck outa this dump."

She looked back into the hotel and along the nearly deserted street. "Yeh. Here he comes."

Luther came across the narrow lobby and opened the door. He smiled slightly. "We got us a show if we want-couple bucks."

Brenda sniffed. "A couple?"

"Promise of fifteen. How 'bout it?" Luther looked at her.

"Fifteen and the rent?" Dex asked.

"Couldn't work it that way. Fifteen, we pay the room rent."

"Shit."

Brenda sighed. "Alright, a fifteen minute show and we git. OK?"

"Yeh." Luther turned on his heel and went back into the hotel. They watched him morosely.

"I wish I'se out of this goddam racket," she said. "Gimme a cigarette."

He fished out a pack. "You really goin' to settle down on a farm with him?"

She sighed again and looked at him over the hot match flame. "Don't tease me with that goddam cock of yours. Leave things alone, huh?"

What did she see in Luther? For always? He shrugged at her and tossed the burnt match away. Even smoking a lousy cigarette she was sexy. Anything she did roused him. What would it be like without her? He didn't want to find out.

Luther beckoned to them and they went inside again. His crooked finger led them into the small, stuffy office and out a side door into a double garage. Halimon was there with two others, hard-faced men who looked at Brenda with diamond-bright eyes.

"She sure a damn fine lookin' woman," Halimon said.

Brenda smiled thinly.

"How 'bout it-afterwards?" Halimon said. "I give you a couple bucks more."

"No," Luther shook his head. "The show, that's all."

Halimon grunted and looked at the others. They said nothing. Halimon reached out and bounced one tit suddenly and Luther batted the hand away, frowning. Halimon spun on his heel: "This way."

They walked out of the garage, across a grassy plot and down a rutted lane lined by tall brush. Without the fat man to guide them, they would have been lost in a moment, Dex thought. Suddenly they were in the sticks, the road far behind them.

"Where we goin'? " Luther asked. "You said a shed-"

"Sure, we're goin' to it."

One of the other men looked around, his face a pale smear in the night. "We got wives, feller."

Dex put his hand on Brenda's ass and she looked at him. "Fifteen bucks," she murmured sarcastically.

The shed was across a wide dip.

"Where's the goddam shed?" Luther asked irritably.

"Right here," Holiman said. "On'y a minute now..."