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unrestored.
    â€œWhat in the hell is going on, Sierra?” he asked, pulling out of the parking lot and onto the main drag. “I’ve never seen Vincent so upset. Do I know this Ruby?”
    I shook my head, futilely pushing my hair back out of my face.
    â€œShe’s new. I don’t think you’ve been in since Vincent hired her.”
    Ernie stopped for a red light and turned to stare at me through his thick glasses.
    â€œIs there anything about this situation, any little thing at all, Sierra, that I ought to know?”
    The light changed to green, but Ernie didn’t look away.
    â€œErn, honest, I told them guys all there was to know. I heard her with someone, I don’t know who. Then I heard it go wrong. By the time I reached her, she was dead. And, Ernie, I swear to God, it could have been Nailor. I don’t know what’s going on, but he was there.”
    â€œShit! Sierra, that isn’t good. That’s not good at all. You know that’s why they’re all over you.”
    Ernie was driving again, winding his way down Bayou, heading out of town toward the Lively Oaks Trailer Park and home.
    â€œHow’d you hear her with all the noise at the track?” he asked suddenly.
    â€œDamn, Ernie, what is this? You sound like a cop. All right. It was between races. I was no more than fifteen feet from the Dumpster when I heard them talking. Is there a problem?”
    Ernie didn’t look at me, just stared straight ahead and focused on his driving.
    â€œI don’t know, Sierra,” he said finally. “I just don’t like the way it feels. You’re placing a cop at a murder scene and he’s denying it. Vincent said the police were asking a lot of questions about you.”
    â€œOh, that’s just Vincent,” I said, “always needing something to worry about. I’m clean.”
    Ernie seemed to accept this because he didn’t follow up with any more questions. He pulled onto my parking pad and cut the engine.
    â€œSierra, I don’t know you too well.”
    I laughed. “Not like I know you, Ernie.”
    â€œWhatever. I just want to give you a piece of advice: Stay out of the cops’ hair on this one. They don’t do things here like they did in Philly. Panama City’s a small town; it takes care of its own. Don’t try to tell them how to do their job and don’t play cute with them. Call me if you have any further contact.”
    â€œDon’t worry, I’ll call you. And, Ernie?”
    â€œYeah?” There was a hopeful tone to his voice, as if he was hoping I might actually invite him in to show my gratitude. I was grateful, but not that grateful. The Oscar Meyer wiener tune started running through my head and the vision of Ernie naked jumped into my mind.
    â€œThanks, Ern. I’ll call you.” For a second his shoulders slumped, but then he grinned and threw the Mustang into reverse.
    â€œThat’s what I’m here for, Sierra,” he said, “to keep the wolves away from your door.”
    I wasn’t really listening; my mind was on getting inside and falling into bed. Somehow the pieces would fall together, but not tonight. I stuck my key in the lock and pushed the kitchen door open. I hit the light switch and nothing happened.
    â€œShit!” The light had blown again, and I’d just put in a new bulb. That’s the problem with mobile homes—built cheaper than shit and always unpredictable.
    I closed the door behind me and stepped cautiously into the kitchen. My luck I’d trip over Fluffy’s dish. I took another step and froze, the hairs on the back of my neck standing up. Someone was in the trailer.
    From behind me I felt rather than heard a brief rush of air as someone closed the distance between us, grabbing me and placing a strong hand over my mouth.
    â€œDon’t move. Just relax and lean back against me. If you move you’ll get hurt.”
    I