The Invisible Hand - A crime novel

Chapter 64

                 

PART TWO: DRILL

Chapter 64

Lou Larson is a pile of shit.

I tell myself that over and over. Makes every fist to his face feel softer. Easier on my hand.

Turns out Les had concerns about meth resellers before. The scrawny guy's firearm face plant confirmed them.

Les tells us about another guy in the Man Camp in on the racket. Name of Lou Larson. Says he drives dope out to the oil rigs. The "cool" rigs. Where the managers look the other way.

Lou buys it off the scrawny guy. Drives to cool rigs. Charges double. Skips giving Les a cut.

Not anymore.

Les sends Sam and me to Lou's rusted out RV. We're to explain with our fists how he's not welcome in the Man Camp anymore.

Now this is more like it.

A couple neighbors try to break it up. Can't blame them. They had no idea. Sam tells them Lou's dealing meth. Most of the camp still acts like it's taboo. As if they haven't noticed.

Sam tears through the RV. Les told her to find his stash. She drops in between punches. Asks Lou where he's hiding it.

May as well ask the wind. Lou can't talk anymore.

Sam hits him for good measure. I pick up the beating once she heads into the bedroom. Opposite end of the RV.

I hear a yell. Not a painful one. A surprised one.

I drop Lou and head over.

Sam leans over a woman on the bed. Checks her pulse.

"What the hell? She dead?" I say.

"No. She's plenty alive. Just having a nap," Sam says. Points to a nightstand. There's a bottle of pills. "What are those?"

I pick up the bottle. Oxycodone.

"Hillbilly heroin," I say. Toss the bottle to Sam. The blood on my hands makes my dry skin sting.

She stuffs the bottle in her pocket.

"What are you doing?" I say.

"I'll give it to Les," Sam says.

I raise an eyebrow. "Don't turn doper on me."

"You don't think I'd seriously do that?" she says.

Seriously.

There's something about the way Sam says that word. And the sight of that shotgun exploding. And Betrug.

Seriously.

I look at the blood on my hands.

Seriously.

Shotgun.

Betrug.

Grain bin.

Are these things connected?

I feel the urge to pluck eyelashes. Do it when Sam isn't looking. But I don't eat them. They're stuck in the mess coating my hands.

"What's her deal then?" I say.

Sam pushes aside some blankets. Reveals the woman's crusty nightgown. And a pair of handcuffs.

One cuff is around the woman's wrist. The other is to the bed frame.

"Looks like ol' Lou was delivering more than meth to those oil rigs," I say.

"Motherfucker," Sam says.

She clenches her fist. Heads back to Lou. I'm right behind her.

Except there's a problem.

Lou is gone.

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