I were a Doberman I’d haul off across the pasture and take a bite out of his leg, but I’m nonviolent by nature. I prefer to sit back and see if we can settle our differences by peaceful means.
The stranger meanders around the east side of the lake, looks over his shoulder, then heads toward Ruby Nell’s house.
“Take another step in that direction and you’ll wish you hadn’t, Buck.”
I can smell Buck’s fear all the way over here. Obviously he didn’t see Charlie Valentine coming and neither did I. Maybe the rumors about Charlie are true: a man who can move with that kind of stealth just might be mixed up with the Southern Mafia.
“I was fishing. Your brother said I could.”
“He didn’t know what I know. I’m making you an offer you can’t refuse. You can leave politely and never come near Ruby Nell again or I’ll help you pack and escort you to the state line. You don’t want to have to do that again, do you, Buck?”
Apparently there’s a long history between these two, and I plan to find out about it. But not today.
Charlie watches Buck scuttle back toward his truck, while I take advantage of the diversion to vanish into the woods with my sweet Frenchie. If Charlie sees me, he’ll insist I go home, and I’ve still got a lot of business to take care of.
Elvis has left the building, baby.
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