Page 61 of Look at Her and Die

I winced when I saw Scottie’s prized Begonias, clearly eaten, and sighed.

I’d have to answer to that later, too.

“Come on, Bum.” I tapped his flanks. “Let’s go find the asshole.”

Bum was Dad’s cutting horse and was well trained to the point that I wouldn’t have to tell him what to do at all.

Well, I wouldn’t normally have to tell him what to do when it came to any other fuckin’ animal but Sweet Baby Ray.

But Sweet Baby Ray was horrible and unpredictable, and I would rather not have Bumbo get hurt because he thought that he could handle the stubborn bull.

I found the Mercedes and Ray right where Yates said they’d be, halfway down the gravel driveway.

When I got there, I circled the back side of the Mercedes and stopped next to the door.

I gestured for Malone to hit the window, and she rolled it down just far enough that none of the dust that Ray was kicking up would get into her sweet ride.

“When I get him out of the way, I want you to floor it. He will probably follow you, because he hates the color red, but just pull right up to the house and Yates’ll help from there,” I ordered.

Malone nodded, and the moment I slapped Ray on the ass, he turned and charged me.

That gave Malone enough room to hit the gas, and she floored it down the driveway, kicking up dust, rocks and debris in her wake.

One such rock nailed Ray on the ass, and he hollered like he’d been shot.

He turned his angry, fat head and saw the red bullet heading away from him, and charged.

When you see those crazy motherfuckers in Spain waving red flags at the bulls, you truly don’t understand just how fuckin’ nuts they are until you’ve seen a bull charge in real life.

Then you realize that those bullfighters are testing fate.

Bumbo kicked it into high gear, easily catching up to Ray.

Ray came to a sudden rocking halt when he saw the cattle panels blocking his way to the red car.

Malone was standing next to Searcy on the front porch, both of them on the verge of heading inside if shit hit the fan.

I jerked my attention back to the asshole in front of me and said, “Do your thing, Bum.”

Bum did his thing, and we spent the next ten minutes corralling the dumb beast into his pen again.

Only when the pen was closed, and I was staring at the two responsible for all this mess, did I say, “I think that maybe you two should go back inside so you don’t let anything else out that shouldn’t be out.”

Kent grinned, but it was Anders that looked the most guilty.

I jerked my head at them and they ran between the fencing panels that Yates had set up to funnel Ray into his pen.

“One day, he’s going to die, and I’m going to be over the fuckin’ moon to get that backhoe out!” Yates declared as I walked toward him. “Scottie’s treating an abscess so they didn’t want to stay.”

Another car caught our attention, this one traveling much slower than the rest, followed by a couple of bikers.

When the car pulled to a stop, I was surprised to see that I knew the man that stepped out.

I’d known he was a lawyer, but it’d been so damn long since I’d seen or spoken to him that I didn’t realize he would be the one that Malone recommended.

Hell, I hadn’t realized that he had a knack for lottery winners.

I just hoped that the man was trustworthy like Malone had said, because from my dealings with him, he was anything but.

---