Page 40 of Making His Bones

That gave me an in. I didn’t need to pretend to act ruffled as I removed my arms from the wings of the suit and picked cactus spines from my butt. “Being a tourist, what did you think?”

“I think you’re spying on my land.” He said it like “spine.”

“Why would I be doing that? I have no idea who you are. There were just some nice spires to jump from over there.”

He came closer and leveled the barrel at my chest. “Why you want to be spine on my land wearing a chicken suit?”

I stepped out of the suit. “It’s a squirrel suit, and what do you have that I’d want to spy on? I’m just a tourist from LA come to see the nice red rocks of this area. Are you going to let me go or do I have to call Sheriff DeFreeze? You fucking shot me, buddy.”

“Go ahead, call Sheriff DeFreeze. He’s a friend of mine.”

I rolled my eyes. “It figures. What you got to hide out here?” I hoped my brothers would storm down and help me out, but that would take awhile. Meantime, my rib was bleeding. I lifted my shirt and peered at it. I knew it was just the sort of shot a little kid would take at a friend, or rather frenemy, but still. The guy had shot me. I wasn’t trespassing. I was in public airspace.

“Why you think I’m hiding anything? I think you need to come into my trailer until we can get this straightened out.” He gestured with the assault weapon.

I tried to laugh. “I don’t think so, pal. I’ll just be on my way. My friends are waiting for me.”

He jutted out his lower jaw. “Good. They can come too.”

Well. Maybe I can find out more about his operation.

With this in mind, and with a rifle pointed at my gut, I followed this criminal to his trailer.

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