Chapter Seven #2
“Black ones,” Peddy answered.
Betts smiled. “Black ones? Do you mean Angus?”
“Yeah, Angus.”
O’Bryan tried not to smirk.
“I’ll tell you what,” Betts said. “I’ll let you know if I’ve seen any of your black ones if you’ll tell me if you’ve run across any big mulie bucks this morning on the way out here.”
“We haven’t seen any mules,” Peddy said.
Betts looked to O’Bryan as if to say, Who is this idiot? But instead, he said, “Mule deer. I’m looking for mule deer. We call them mulies.”
As he said it, Betts raised his hands to the top of his head and wiggled his fingers to indicate large ears. “What do you call them on your ranch?”
As much as he enjoyed watching Peddy getting humiliated, O’Bryan stepped in and said, “We call them mulies, too. But no, we didn’t see any this morning on the way out here.”
Betts shook his head. “It’s been tough going this season.
It’s like all the big deer moved out. I’ve had pretty good luck in this area in the past, but this year, it’s been damned frustrating.
I saw a bunch of does and fawns yesterday, and a couple of little forked horns. But nothing I couldn’t pass up.”
Then Betts said, “And I haven’t seen your missing cows, either.”
“How long have you been hunting?” Peddy asked. O’Bryan noticed that Peddy had yet to drink any coffee. Both of his hands were under the table on his lap, and he leaned forward a little. His manner was deflated, O’Bryan thought. As if Peddy had lost much of his usual swagger.
“This’ll be my third day,” Betts said.
“You’ve been hunting on foot?” Peddy asked. “Or have you been driving around?”
“I hunt on foot,” Betts said. “That’s how my dad taught me to hunt, and that’s what I still do.
I’m no road hunter and I don’t really have any respect for the guys who do that.
I want to earn my meat for the freezer. On foot, I can usually get pretty close to a big buck that way and put him down with one shot. ”
“How long are you here?” Peddy asked.
“I better find one today because I need to head back to Casper tomorrow morning. My daughter’s playing in the state volleyball tournament.” Then: “I don’t know why I’m answering your questions.”
Casper was in Natrona County, O’Bryan knew. He’d arrived in Wyoming at the Natrona County Airport. So Natrona County must have the number 1 designation on its license plates, he thought. Interesting.
“If you haven’t seen our cows,” Peddy asked Betts, “what have you seen? Anything unusual?”
Betts sat back, apparently confused. “What do you mean, unusual?”
“You know, unusual.”
“Like what?” he asked again. “To be honest, the only unusual thing I’ve come across since I’ve been hunting is two guys obviously not from here dressed up like Hollywood cowboys and not really pulling it off.”
Before Peddy could respond, Betts said to Peddy, “You know what, mister? It’s been nice meeting you this morning, but I’ve got a pretty good bullshit detector and all I’ve heard so far from you is bullshit.
I don’t know what your game is, but I’m not playing.
How about you finish your coffee and get on your way?
I want to get out there and get my buck before we burn any more daylight. ”
The gunshot from under the table was deafening inside the small trailer.
Betts grimaced and clutched his belly, and Peddy fired again. Then Peddy swung his pistol out from beneath the table and pressed the muzzle against Betts’s forehead and delivered the kill shot.
Betts flopped back and slumped over out of view on his seat.
“What the fuck? Why did you do that?” O’Bryan yelled at Peddy as he scrambled to get out of the bench seat to separate himself further. The interior of the trailer smelled sharply of gunpowder and his ears were ringing from the concussions of the shots.
“It was him,” Peddy said with certainty. “He was lying to us. I could tell by his eyes.”
“There was nothing in his eyes,” O’Bryan said. “He didn’t know what the fuck you were asking him.”
“I saw it,” Peddy said in triumph as he slid out from the table. “There was a tell. I saw it in his eyes. He recognized us, and he didn’t want us to know it. Plus, he was an asshole.”
“Jesus,” O’Bryan said. “You’re crazy. What do we do now?”
“We burn this to the ground. The propane tanks will goose it along.”
O’Bryan felt his fingertips brush against the heavy revolver in his right parka pocket. He looked at Peddy as the man jostled Betts’s body to make sure there was no reaction. The back of Peddy’s fat thick neck was three feet away.
It was simple, O’Bryan thought. He’d tell their employer that Peddy was nuts, that he’d got himself killed in an altercation with a local hunter. That he never should have been paired up with a maniac in the first place.
Then Peddy turned suddenly and locked O’Bryan in a glare. He reached out and gripped O’Bryan’s shoulders in his huge hands. O’Bryan didn’t reach into his pocket to grasp the revolver.
“Snap out of it, dude,” Peddy said, misreading the look on O’Bryan’s face or what he’d been contemplating. “What did you think was going to happen?”
—
They were outside of the burning trailer walking toward the Ranger with the heat of the fire on their backs when Peddy dug his burner phone out of his barn coat.
O’Bryan got into the ATV on the passenger side and closed the door.
He was still numb from what he’d witnessed.
Plus, he didn’t want to be outside if the propane tanks on the front of the trailer ignited.
He watched Peddy talk on the phone through the windshield and he saw the man gesture with his free hand, then use the same hand to slap himself on the top of his head. Then he did it again.
When Peddy got in his face was bright red.
“What was that?” O’Bryan asked.
“That fucking game warden,” Peddy said.
“What about him?” O’Bryan asked with alarm.
“He’s still alive. It’s impossible, but he’s still alive. And the boss is pissed. Says we won’t get paid until we finish the job.”
O’Bryan groaned and leaned against the passenger window. “I told you we should have checked on him to make sure.”
Then: “Where is he now?”