Faithless

Jeffrey looked at each bottle, not touching them as he read the labels. Any one of them looked like they could kill a horse.

Dale was rocking back on his heels, waiting. His expression seemed to say he was expecting some reciprocation for his patience so far.

Jeffrey asked, “You know that farm over in Catoogah?”

“Soy place?”

“That’s it.”

“Sure. Keep going that way”-he indicated the road heading southeast-“and you run right into it.”

“You ever have anybody come over here from there?”

Dale started to put away the bottles. “Used to be they’d cut through the woods sometimes on their way to town. I got kind of nervous, though. Some’a them folks ain’t exactly your upstanding types.”

“Which folks?”

“The workers,” he said, closing the cabinet. He locked it back and returned the key to its hiding place. “Hell, that family is a bunch of fucking idiots if you ask me, letting those people live with them and all.”

Jeffrey prompted, “How’s that?”

“Some of these folks they bring down from Atlanta are pretty bad off. Drugs, alcohol, whatever. It leads you to do certain things, desperate things. You lose your religion.”

He asked, “Does that bother you?”

“Not really. I mean, I guess you could say it’s a good thing. I just didn’t like them coming on my property.”

“You worried about being robbed?”

“They’d need a plasma torch to get into this place,” he pointed out. “Either that or have to come through me.”

“You keep a gun?”

“Damn straight.”

“Can I see it?”

Dale walked across the room and reached up on top of another cabinet. He pulled down a Smith amp; Wesson revolver and offered it to Jeffrey.

“Nice gun,” Jeffrey told him, checking the cylinder. He kept the weapon as meticulously clean as his shop, and fully loaded. “Looks ready for action,” Jeffrey told him, handing back the gun.

“Careful now,” Dale warned, almost jokingly. “She’s got a hair trigger.”

“That a fact?” Jeffrey asked, thinking the man was probably pleased with himself for setting up such a good alibi should he ever “accidentally” shoot an intruder.

“I’m not really worried about them robbing me,” Dale explained, returning the weapon to its hiding place. “Like I told you, I’m real careful. It’s just, they’d come through here and the dogs would go crazy, the wife would freak out, the kids would start crying, got me all het up, and you know that ain’t good.” He paused, looking out at the driveway. “I hate to be this way, but we’re not living in Mayberry. There are all kinds of bad people out there and I don’t want my kids around them.” He shook his head. “Hell, Chief, I don’t have to tell you about that.”

Jeffrey wondered if Abigail Be

“Never,” he said. “I’m here all day. I would’ve seen them.”

“You ever talk to any of them?”

“Just to tell them to get the fuck off my land,” he said. “I’m not worried about the house. The dogs would tear them apart if they so much as knocked on the door.”

“What’d you do?” Jeffrey asked. “I mean, to stop them from cutting through?”

“Put in a call to Two-Bit. Sheriff Pelham, I mean.”

Jeffrey let Dale’s comment slide. “Where’d that get you?”

“Same place as when I started out,” Dale said, kicking his toe into the ground. “I didn’t wa

“Yeah.”

“I explained the situation, said I didn’t want his people on my property. He said okay.”

“When was this?”

“Oh, about three, maybe four months ago,” Dale answered. “He even came out here and we walked along the back property line. Said he’d put up a fence to stop them.”

“Did he?”

“Yeah.”

“You take him into the shop?”

“Sure.” Dale looked almost bashful, a kid bragging about his toys. “Had a sixty-nine Mustang I was working on. Damn thing looked like it was breaking the law just sitting in the driveway.”

“Lev’s into cars?” Jeffrey asked, surprised by this detail.

“I don’t know a man alive wouldn’t be impressed by that car. Stripped it from the ground up- new engine, new suspension and exhaust- about the only thing original on that baby was the frame, and I chopped the pillars and dropped the top three inches.”

Jeffrey was tempted to let him get sidetracked but knew he couldn’t. He asked, “One more question?”

“Shoot.”

“Do you have any cyanide around?”

Dale shook his head. “Not since I quit smoking. Too tempted to end it all.” He laughed, then, seeing Jeffrey wasn’t joining in, stopped. “Sure, I keep it back here,” he said, returning to the cabinet over the metal-plating area. Again, he found the key and unlocked the cabinet. He reached far into the back, his hand disappearing for a few moments into the recesses of the uppermost shelf. He pulled out a thick plastic bag that held a small glass bottle. The skull and crossbones on the front sent a shiver through Jeffrey’s spine as he thought about what Abigail Be

Dale placed the bag on the counter, the glass bottle making a clink. “I don’t even like touching this shit,” he said. “I know it’s stable, but it freaks me the fuck out.”

“Do you ever leave the cabinet unlocked?”

“Not unless I’m using what’s in there.”

Jeffrey bent down to look at the bottle. “Can you tell if any salts are missing?”

Dale knelt, squinting at the clear glass. “Not that I can tell.” He stood back up. “’Course, it’s not like I count it out.”

“Did Lev seemed interested in what was inside this cabinet?”

“I doubt he even noticed it was there.” He crossed his arms over his chest and asked, “There something I should be worried about?”

“No,” Jeffrey told him, though he wasn’t sure. “Can I talk to Terri?”

“She’s with Sally,” he said, then explained. “My sister. She’s got this problem with her…” He indicated his lower regions. “Terri goes over when she has bad spells and helps her watch the kids.”

“I need to talk to her,” Jeffrey said. “Maybe she’s seen someone around the garage who shouldn’t be.”

Dale stiffened, as if his honesty had been challenged. “Nobody comes into this place without me,” he said, and Jeffrey believed him. The man wasn’t keeping that gun around because it made him feel pretty.

Dale allowed, “She’ll be back tomorrow morning. I’ll tell her to come see you as soon as she gets back.”

“Appreciate it.” Jeffrey indicated the poison. “Do you mind if I take this?” he asked. “I want to dust it for fingerprints.”

“Glad to have it out of here,” Dale agreed. He opened one of his drawers and took out a latex glove. “You wa

Jeffrey accepted the offer and slipped on a glove so that he could take the bag.

“I’m sorry I can’t be specific with you, Dale. You’ve been really helpful, but I’d prefer if you didn’t tell anybody I was over here asking about this.”

“No problem.” Dale’s mood was almost exuberant now that the questioning was over. As Jeffrey was getting into his car, he offered, “You come on back sometime when you can sit a while. I took pictures of that sixty-nine ’Stang every step of the way.”

Lena was sitting on her front steps when Jeffrey pulled up in front of her house.

“Sorry I’m late,” he told her as she got into the car.

“No problem.”

“I was talking to Dale Stanley about plating.”

She stopped in the middle of buckling her seat belt. “Anything?”

“Not much.” He filled her in on Dale’s operation and Lev’s visit. “I dropped the cyanide by the station before I came to get you,” he told her. “Brad is ru