“Absolutely. Come by the shop whenever and we’ll head over. I might look for something I can wear for Killian too.”
“I’m so happy for you both. I’ve never seen you so content.”
“Me neither. You’ll get there, Blair.”
Blair yawned, watching the firelight dance across the ceiling. “I’m beat. I’ll meet you at the shop just after one.”
“Can’t wait. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
She set the phone on the armrest and let the television flicker on, her eyelids growing heavier with each passing minute. When the credits rolled she clicked it off, turned out the fire and padded upstairs. The bare limbs of the cherry tree scratched softly against the window as she slipped beneath the crispcotton sheets, pulled her blanket close and drifted off with Hud’s face drifting through her thoughts.
****
Hud was led along a sterile, fluorescent-lit corridor to one of the gray-walled interrogation rooms. He thanked the guard with a curt nod and leaned against the cold concrete wall to wait, his Kevlar vest creaking as he crossed his arms. He didn’t straighten when Roby was brought in. Pale and gaunt, three days of stubble on his jaw, shackled with heavy steel cuffs and hooked to the bolted-down table. The guard pushed him into the scratched metal chair and withdrew without a word. Roby fixed Hud with bloodshot eyes. Hud smirked.
“What the fuck do you want?” Roby snarled, spittle at the corner of his chapped lips.
Hud pushed off the wall with deliberate slowness, boots echoing on the concrete as he crossed to the table. He pulled the chair out, turned it around and straddled it, forearms resting on the back.
“Surely you’re not that stupid,” he said quietly. His voice came out like gravel underfoot.
“I don’t know nothin’.”
“You sure as hell don’t know your grammar either.” Hud leaned forward until his face was inches from Roby’s, close enough to smell the sour coffee on his breath. “You know every damn thing. I want to know where White is.”
“He’s dead.” Roby shrugged.
“Senior, you idiot.” Hud’s palm cracked against the table, the sound bouncing off the walls. “I knowhe’salive.”
Roby’s chains clinked as he shifted. “I have no ideawhere he is.”
“You’re lying.”
“And there’s nothing you can do about it.” Roby laughed, a hollow sound that never reached his eyes.
“You know what’s interesting?” Hud’s mouth twisted. “Some prisoners have a particular hatred for animal abusers.”
Roby sat up straight, shackles rattling. Sweat beaded on his upper lip. “I don’t think so.”
Hud leaned back with calculated ease. “You’d be surprised how the prison population feels about men who abuse or kill animals. Livestock included. Some inmates make it their personal business to educate those people. Creatively.” He watched Roby’s color drain to something resembling sour milk. “A lot of them see animal cruelty as a sign of a man with no character at all. Even killers have a code. Animal abusers don’t rank high on it.”
“Nobody knows what I did,” Roby whispered, fingers trembling against the table. “I told them I was in for attempted murder.”
“Maybe. But word has a way of traveling in places like this. And I can make sure it travels faster.” Hud leaned forward. “One phone call.”
“You can’t do that.”
“You have no idea what I can do.” His voice dropped low, unhurried. “Talk now, or every man in this place knows exactly what you’re here for by morning.” He let that sit in the stale air between them. “It works the same way as being labeled a rapist. Even the coldest killers draw lines. Men who hurt animals, men who hurt children, they end up on the wrong side of those lines. And the ones who did both?” He shrugged. “They don’t last long at all.”
Roby’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “That doesn’t evenmake sense.”
“Doesn’t have to. It just has to be true, and it is.” Hud stared at him. “They’ll beat you senseless given half a chance.”
Roby’s shoulders sank slowly, the fight going out of him like air from a punctured tire. “If I tell you what I know, will you move me somewhere safer?”
Hud leaned back, the chair legs rasping over concrete. “No matter where they put you, you’re a target.”
