AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“With a dagger through the heart.”
She couldn’t tell if Carson was joking or not, but she thought probably not.
Trapper asked, “What about the pistol?”
“He swears to God he had never laid eyes on it.”
“Until a traffic cop pulled it from under the seat of his truck.”
“Noooo,” Carson said, dragging out the word. “Until he found it in a trash can.”
“You gotta be kidding me.”
“Wish I was,” Carson said. “He contends that when he went to put his garbage in the can, there was the pistol. Clip was full except for one bullet. Serial number scratched out.”
“His lucky day.”
“His words exactly.”
“When did this miracle find occur?”
“Monday night. He remembers because the trash is picked up at the mobile home park on Tuesday morning.”
“When questioned about the gun, why did he lie?”
“Wouldn’t you?”
Trapper ran his hand around the back of his neck. “If I was in sexual congress with a minor, yeah, I probably would. Did you ask him about The Major?”
“Knows he’s famous. Knows he got shot. Never heard of you.” Carson tacked that on with perceptible glee.
“What about Kerra?”
“He’s only seen her once or twice, on account of his neighbor discovered that he’d tapped into his cable and cut him off.”
“Did you ask if he knew Thomas Wilcox?”
“I did. He said, ‘Sure.’”
Kerra and Trapper exchanged a fleeting look before going back to Carson. “Swear to God, when he said that, my heart nearly stopped. I asked him how he knew Thomas Wilcox, and he said, ‘Hero of mine.’ I asked why he considered Wilcox hero material, and he said, ‘On account of his three-pointers, asshole.’ I would have taken exception, but that kind of verbal abuse goes with the territory of being a criminal defense attorney, and since you’re footing the bill—”
“Get on with it, Carson.”
“I asked my client if it was possible we were referencing two different Thomas Wilcoxes. And he said, ‘I’m talkin’ about the all-star basketball player for OU. Black dude. Six nine. Went on to play for the Thunder till they started suckin’, then moved to the Nuggets. Who the fuck are you talkin’ about?’ I think that’s a quote,” he said, giving Kerra an apologetic glance. “Anyhow, the basketball player is the only Thomas Wilcox he ever heard of.”
After the buildup, the finale was a letdown. Kerra could tell that Trapper felt it, too. Nobody said anything. Then, in a much more subdued manner, Carson said, “Your office got trashed.”
Trapper played dumb. “You don’t say?”
“Broke through the window in the door. The building custodian discovered it when he got to work this morning. Said the place had been torn apart. He tried your cell number; it went straight to voice mail. Didn’t know how else to reach you, so he called me. I authorized him to get your window replaced and your lock changed.”
“Thanks.”
“I’ll add the charges to your bill.” Carson divided a worried look between them. “You know, Trapper, some people you’re just better off not messing with. I ask again, do y’all know what you’re doing?” His law degree may have been fake, but his concern seemed genuine.
Trapper pretended not to have noticed. He asked Carson how Duncan had responded to the request that he shout out the question.
Kerra said, “I assume that’s what all the paper shuffling on the table was about?”
