Black Oil, Red Blood

Chapter 13



This time, when Delmont’s phone rang, it woke up his wife. She rolled over and jabbed him in the ribs. He groaned. Seemed like all she ever did anymore was poke and prod and nag him. Joe Bob, do this. Joe Bob, do that. Joe Bob, let me throw a poker party. Joe Bob, let me remodel the kitchen. Nag, nag, nag. And as far as getting any action in the sack, forget it. Thank goodness he had his sweet little side number to rely on for that. At least until Chloe Taylor had ruined it for him.

His wife poked him again. “Pick up the phone already!”

Delmont groggily rolled over and reached for it.

He maneuvered himself out of bed and into the hallway before picking it up.

“You better have good news,” Delmont said. “What happened?”

“We torched the girl’s place. She and Nash and the town girly man had everything out on the dining room table when we got there.”

“How much did they get through?”

“I don’t know,” said the voice on the other end of the line. “At any rate, it’s gone now.”

“Did you kill anyone?”

“I don’t think so. An ambulance took the girl to the hospital, but she’ll probably make it. Her clothes were on fire. You should have seen Nash rip her shirt off. It was almost like he was looking for an excuse to do it. Can’t say I blame him, either. It’ll be a real crime if we have to put that girl down.”

“Yeah, well, if we have to, we have to,” Delmont said. He wouldn’t be sorry if she were gone, although he didn’t want to be the one to off her.

“We’re switching out counsel on the case. If it turns out that she knows anything she shouldn’t, the new lawyer will find out and let us know.”

“How can you be sure of that?” Delmont asked. “She’s no idiot.”

“The new counsel knows her. Well.”

“How well?”

“Just trust me on this one.”

The line went dead. Delmont was irritated, but he was also ready to get back to sleep. He shuffled to the bedroom and got into bed. Too bad his wife was still in it, snoring up a storm. Maybe it was about time to trade her in for a new model, he thought sleepily.

Surely there were some thugs at PetroPlex who could take care of that, too.