Dead Girl Moon by Charlie Price Read Free Book Online Page A

alliances. Build a little backup if she came to need it.
    She began with Tim Cassel. Away from school he acted a little more mature. Plus, he had a cool Mustang convertible, enough money for burgers and beer, and a hard body that Grace considered acceptable. From a distance. Which wasn’t easy. The boy didn’t like no for an answer.
    Next, she edged a little closer to Larry Cassel, who, contrary to his reputation, had been surprisingly thoughtful and, by Grace’s standards, was practically rich. The Lincoln was cushy and if it was the night before one of her days off, they sometimes tooled all the way to an Indian casino on Kalispell Lake for a midnight dinner and gambling. She could see he wanted her, but he seemed willing to wait. The statutory thing again.
    Fitz Fitzhugh was all sweat and business. If his tips hadn’t been so extravagant she would never have given him a try. Weird, right? Mick’s father. Fitz had a way of looking at her like he knew her, like he could see what kind of person she was under that actress smile. He took her out in the country, turned up the car radio and taught her basic swing dancing. He was rough, and his kisses felt like sandpaper, but he always stopped when she asked. He drank a boatload of hard liquor. Grace thought the pills he took kept him upright. He offered some to her but she was afraid to try them.
    The second time he went out with her he really surprised her.
    “Want to shoot a pistol?”
    That was a new one. They were south of town on a wooded ridge that overlooked the Clark Fork and the power plant. Grace looked at him to see if he was serious. Should have known. He was always pretty serious. Raised her eyebrows.
    He bit his lip as if reconsidering, but wound up reaching over into the backseat, to his leather jacket, and bringing out a folded brown paper sack. “This one’s too big for you,” he said, unwrapping a dark square-shaped handgun. “Got a .32 in the back’s more your size.”
    Grace nodded. “Sure.” Could be fun.
    He set his pint of bourbon on the roof of the car, opened the trunk, lifted the spare tire, and pulled out a smaller package. Like a miniature copy of the first, but silvery with black grips. Returned to the trunk and came out with a six-pack of empty longnecks. “Targets,” he said. “Nobody close. People who hear’ll think coyotes.”
    Grace set her beer on the hood and accepted the gun. Easy to grip but way heavier than it looked.
    “Pistol,” he said, “revolver’s the kind you can see the bullets.” He reached up and touched her chin. “Just as soon you kept this between us,” he said. “Not even Mick. What we do is private. You okay with that?”
    Grace nodded. There was something dangerous about this guy. Where Hammond was slick and organized, Fitz was rough and lone-wolf. Neither were regular citizens. Hammond was teaching her scams. Who better than Fitz to teach her to shoot?
    It took a while but she finally broke a bottle.
    Fitz clapped. “Have to take a second job to keep you in ammo,” he said, smashing her to him in what he considered a hug.

 
    18
    E VELYN DIDN ’ T TAKE HER EYES off the highway as she dug in her purse for the cell phone. A few hours after dark the big ranches had finished their day’s work, loaded their trailer rigs with cattle and hay, and sent them rolling toward Bonners Ferry or Sandpoint. Those big trucks and tired drivers could be all over the road and you had to be careful. She flipped the phone open, listened.
    “Hey, I just saw you ahead of me.”
    She thought she recognized the voice.
    “Going home,” she said. “Long day.”
    “Pull over for a sec, I got you a present.”
    “Uh, give it tomorrow. I’ll be at work.”
    “Can’t. Really, it’ll take less than a minute. Pull over at that dirt road with the mailbox.”
    Evelyn thought it over. In the past couple of months she’d been given several presents and most she’d been able to sell to girlfriends in Plains for more cash.