Page 152 of Evil Bones
“Quite the mountain-man name.”
“It is.”
Jimmy-jimmy-jimmy.
“Is that the same wren?” Ryan asked.
“I don’t know. Would you like me to request ID?”
“Hilarious.”
“I try.”
Teakettle-teakettle-teakettle.
“Birdie would enjoy this place,” Ryan said.
“Birdie would enjoy eating that wren.” As I said it, I reflected that my cat wasn’t exactly the big game–hunting type. He much preferred the treats I purchased from the grocery store.
“We could have brought him.”
“He loves staying with the neighbor. She feeds him canned tuna.”
“Is that good for cats?”
“Doubtful.”
We fell into a comfortable silence, listening to the birdsong and admiring the peaceful tableau spreading out below us. The glistening lake. The shadowy hills fading into the deepening dusk.
Ryan was the first to speak again.
“There are still some details on which I’m unclear.”
“Nice grammar,” I said.
“Thank you,” Ryan said. Then, after a pause. “Let me recap. The guy’s name is Turner Long. He’s from Mobile but has worked as an Amazon driver in the Charlotte area for over three years. He’s unmarried, has no partner, no kids.”
Jimmy-jimmy-jimmy.
“Correct on all points.”
“Did Long ever serve time?” Ryan asked.
“According to Slidell, he did five years in Alabama for stealing a handbag.”
“A snatch-and-run got him a nickel stretch?”
“The old lady fell and broke her hip.”
“That’ll do it.”
Teakettle-teakettle-teakettle.
Ryan gave the swing another gentle shove. We rocked backward. After swallowing, I continued the thread.
“Also according to Slidell, Long gets his jollies decorating and nailing dead animals to trees. He started out using roadkill, eventually shifted to snatching pets, then to robbing graves.”
“Long admitted to those things?”
