FrostLine by Justin Scott Read Free Book Online Page A

one. Still, if I was going to ignore my instincts, the least I could do was cover my back. So I said, “Dicky, get lost. Let me talk to your dad.”
    Dicky grabbed the bottle from the truck and stalked up to the house. His father looked mildly astonished that his son hadn’t taken a poke at me for ordering him around.
    â€œI’ll explain,” I said.
    He watched Dicky until the kitchen door slammed. Then he stared at me a long moment. “Come on, let’s get out of the wind,” he said, and led me into the barn. There was a torn and bent webbed folding chair set in the open wall that faced the corral where the cows were eating. He sat heavily in it and indicated a rusty tractor seat welded to an old milk can for me. I pulled it close and sat beside him where we could watch the animals or turn to face each other.
    â€œWhat’s up?” he said. He leaned over to pick at the hay stalks that had stuck to his muddy boots, and his long hair draped his face. We were looking west, into the sun. It made the gray look almost silver. But when he raised his head, the same light was cruel, exposing hard years. His mustache was gray. Deep lines scored the skin beside his hawk nose. His eyes were dull.
    â€œWhat are you going to tell me Dicky can’t tell me himself?”
    â€œIt’s not about Dicky. At least not directly.”
    â€œWho’d he fight?”
    â€œDennis and Albert Chevalley.”
    â€œThey’re working for King.”
    â€œHe went to see King. They tried to stop him.”
    â€œSons of bitches.”
    â€œThey’re a couple of dumb kids. They do what they’re told.”
    Mr. Butler’s shoulders sagged. “Ben, I don’t want no trouble with Chevalleys. I got my hands full with that ’sucker down the hill.”
    â€œI guarantee you they won’t tell a soul that one guy smaller than them kicked both their asses simultaneously.”
    Mr. Butler smiled. “No, I guess they won’t.”
    â€œSo that’s not a problem,” I said. “The problem is King.”
    â€œWhat’s it to you?”
    â€œHe asked me to intercede.”
    â€œIntercede?”
    â€œMake peace.”
    â€œWhy you?”
    â€œHell, I don’t know, Mr. Butler. I thought he wanted to talk real estate. Instead he got this idea in his head that I’m some kind of local fixer.”
    Butler smiled again. “Maybe he heard how you found poor old Uncle Pete.”
    â€œHe wasn’t that lost.”
    â€œTroopers couldn’t find him.”
    â€œI had more time on my hands.”
    The Butler family—unduly impressed by my oni service—had hired me to track down a forgetful elder who had disappeared. “He had already been found,” I reminded Mr. Butler, who was distantly related to Uncle Pete. A waitress from New Milford had found him.
    â€œHeard they got engaged,” said Mr. Butler.
    â€œI wouldn’t be surprised.”
    â€œShows there’s hope for all of us.”
    â€œAnyhow…”
    â€œAnyhow, I don’t see what business it is of yours.”
    â€œHey, I can only help if both sides want me to. I promised King I’d help. Are you interested? Or do you want to keep on fighting?”
    â€œI’m not fighting. He’s fighting. I was doing fine ’til the son of a bitch started throwing his weight around.”
    â€œHow do you mean?”
    â€œI bet he told you he didn’t understand the pasture lease. Said he didn’t realize how close it was to the house, because he was a city boy. Did he?”
    â€œThat’s what he said.”
    â€œBullshit. He saw it. He just figured he’d plow me under with lawyers. Blow me off. Screw the dumb farmer.”
    â€œWell, he knows now he was wrong about that. I think he feels like a damned fool. Won’t be the first time a city guy got his wires crossed.”
    â€œHe looks at me and I see in his eyes if I