Rae Lynn shouted at Otis and Crow, “What has she ever done to you?”
Otis appeared filled with confusion, while Crow stared stupidly at his bleeding hand. Rae Lynn rushed to Cornelia’s side.
Otis, fury filling his voice, yelled at Crow, “Look at what you done, you idiot! Not my wife! Her!”
Beyond the chaos, and through a glaze of tears, Rae Lynn saw Del Reese running toward them, shotgun still raised to his shoulder. Too late, she thought. Too late, too late.
Chapter 27
Del
Del ran to the women huddled together on the ground and assessed the horrible deed done to them.
“I tried to get him before this happened.”
In the periphery of his thoughts came gorgeous when Rae Lynn raised her eyes to him, but that thought evaporated like mist under a hot sun when she spoke. Her voice had a hitch in it.
“Too late.”
It was true. If he’d been a second sooner, Crow would be the only one nursing an injury. Peewee, his hair dripping, his face covered with soap, came running, still in the process of pulling his suspenders over his shoulders. It was apparent he’d been washing up. His eyes grew big and round as he stared at the women and then at Crow.
Crow immediately yelled, “That sonofabitch shot me!” while Del offered nothing.
Peewee was flummoxed.
He said, “What in the hell’s going on. What happened to Cornelia?”
Crow pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and wrapped it around what amounted to nothing more than a nick.
He said, “I’m gonna tell you what’s going on, and any questions you might’ve had about a certain somebody’s gonna be answered.”
Otis was in a dither, trying to get ahold of Cornelia’s hand, only she kept batting him away.
Crow pointed at Rae Lynn. “Otis caught her kissing his wife.”
Otis exclaimed, “S’truth! I seen it with my own eyes.” Rae Lynn gave an imperceptible shake of her head, and Del was willing to bet cold, hard cash it hadn’t happened that way.
Bewildered, Peewee said, “And so you dumped hot tar on Cornelia?”
Crow pointed with his bandaged hand at Del. “If he hadn’t shot my hand it would’ve gone where it was intended!”
Otis circled them like a buzzard.
“He was gonna dump it on her!”
His flailed his arms wildly at Rae Lynn, who helped Cornelia to her feet. The women started for the house and Otis fell in behind them, blabbering and making a nuisance of himself. If the situation hadn’t been so tragic, Del would’ve laughed at how each time he got within a foot of his wife, she swatted him away. The women went inside with Otis trailing after them dejectedly.
Peewee said, “Sweeney. First thing, you’re fired. Second, you ain’t leaving before you pay for what you done here today. You know, since you’re always talking about what’s fair.”
Del sure did appreciate this side of Peewee.
He snapped his fingers like he’d just had a thought, but in reality, he’d been knowing all along if he had a chance, what he’d do.
“I got just the remedy.”
Peewee spread his arms wide, indicating he didn’t much care what Del decided.
He said, “Just don’t kill him ’cause I have to answer to that.”
Del gestured at Crow with the shotgun. “Git moving.”
Crow’s jaw jutted out. “I ain’t going no damn where.”
Del said, “Sure you are.”
He aimed at Crow’s boots. “Sure would be easier walking if you ain’t got your foot shot too.”
Peewee said, “Be a man about it and do as he says.”
With a furious look at them both, Crow started walking, but he taunted them as they went.
“What’re y’all gonna do? Take me out to the woods and shoot me like an old dog?”
The men said nothing, so he tried another avenue.
“Tell you what. Y’all let me take my chances in that swamp, and you won’t see hide nor hair of me again. Might be a good way to get out from under the old lady too. Heh, heh.”
Del wished he’d shut up. He cut his eyes toward Peewee, who rolled his at Del. Minutes later, they stood under the silver-coated sky, air thick as syrup and reminding them they still had a lot of summer to get through.
Del said, “Step on in.”
Crow stared down into the box and didn’t move. As Del watched him hesitate, he became thoughtful.
“I reckon you’re scared. You got good reason to be. Lots a men didn’t make it out ’cause of what you done to’em beforehand. If you’re the praying sort, I’d pray if I was you. That wood is soaked with them you left to rot. They’ll come for you, when you least expect it.”