Read Champagne for Buzzards for Free Online Page B

widened and he sat up a little straighter. “I know…” he started to say and then gave a little shake of his head and went silent.
    â€œWhat do you know?” Tully demanded in a harsh voice more designed to scare than coax.
    â€œNothing, ain’t nothing,” Howie answered and slumped back.
    â€œDon’t be a fool,” Tully told him. “You know anything you better speak up.”
    Howie shook his head and jutted his jaw.
    I caught Uncle Ziggy’s eye, nodded at Tully and cocked my head to the side.
    Uncle Ziggy pulled himself to his feet. “Tully, let’s go see what the deputy is going to do with Jimmy’s truck. We’ll have to find something for Sherri to drive if they’re going to keep it.”
    â€œWell, it sure is time to get rid of it now, isn’t it, Sherri? You don’t want to be driving around in a hearse,” Tully said and followed Ziggy off the porch. Howie Sweet was thinking hard on something and hardly noticed they were gone. “I need a drink,” I said to Howie. “Let’s go in.”
    I’d said the magic words. Howie was on his feet and through the door before me.
    I poured Jack Daniel’s into a glass and added a little water. “Ice?” He shook his head and reached for the glass. Howie’s hand trembled as he took it from me, drinking the whiskey down as if it was an antidote for snakebite and he’d just been bitten bad.
    He shuddered a little and set the glass down on the counter. “You seem real upset by this.”
    â€œIt’s a surprise, it surely is,” he said. He pushed the glass towards me. “Such a shock to think someone would murder Lucan and put him in that truck.”
    He watched me pour a second drink, a little stronger this time, while both his palms smoothed out his shirt stretched across his broad girth.
    â€œWhy are you surprised that someone killed Lucan?” I asked, holding out the fresh drink and watching him.
    â€œDon’t expect a thing like that.”
    â€œFrom what I hear, if ever there was a man who was born to be murdered, it was Lucan.”
    Howie nodded his bald head, his eyes fixed on the glass in my hand. “A bastard,” he agreed. “Everyone in the county hated him.”
    I remembered what the sheriff had said. “Not April Donaldson.”
    â€œNo one much bothers with April.”
    â€œIncluding you?”
    He didn’t answer.
    â€œShe’s just lost someone she cared about,” I told him.
    â€œThey wasn’t married. It isn’t the same.”
    â€œThat’s nice and Christian of you.” I handed over the whiskey. His hands still trembled as they settled around the glass but this time he sipped at the liquid.
    â€œTell me.”
    His faded blue eyes met mine. “What?”
    â€œAs you say, the sheriff’s men aren’t bagging your best friend out there. Everyone knows you two were enemies so you can’t be that devastated by his death. Something else is going on here. Do you know how that body ended up in my truck?”
    He drew himself up. “I don’t think what I know or don’t know is any of your business.”
    â€œWrong answer. I’m in this shit and I don’t like it. You were the only one who could easily have taken my truck. I’ll make sure the sheriff understands that; maybe I’ll even tell him I saw you do it if you don’t can the attitude.”
    â€œYou can’t lie.”
    I laughed. “Lying is one of the few things I excel at.”
    He frowned.
    There was something I was really curious about. “Even without knowing about my lying you already seem to think the worst of me, Howie, why is that?”
    â€œâ€™Cause you and Clay ain’t married. You’re living in sin and that’s just wrong. Pearl says so.”
    It was hard to believe that living with someone without marriage could still be an issue, which shows