He grins, his eyes already glassy from drinking for hours. “The county boys don’t give a shit what you get up to so long as you aren’t causing trouble with the neighbors.”
“That sounds nice.”
“Sure beats having guards up your ass twenty-four seven,” Jinx adds.
“What were you in for again?” Murphy asks, and the growing suspicion is clear in his voice.
“Something that never should’ve gotten me in trouble in the first place,” I mutter, keeping the beer resting on my lap because if I try to take a drink, I’ll probably end up puking. “If my girl would’ve listened, she wouldn’t have ended up having an accident.”
“Here, here,” Jinx says, raising his can. He doesn’t take a drink either.
“Things would be a lot easier if they learned the first fucking time,” Murphy agrees. “I was married to my wife for thirty-eight years and until her dying day, she still didn’t understand.”
“She passed?” I try to sound as concerned as I can manage without tilting into an area that shows I feel sorry for the woman. “Jeremy talked about her all the time. I was hoping to meet her.”
“She’s dead,” Murphy mutters before draining his beer and reaching for another.
“Sorry to hear that. Two great losses so close together?”
“That fucking sucks,” Jinx says, his throat working on a swallow. “Was it painful?”
I don’t know how he’s managing to look like he’s actually interested in the way she died all the while looking like he’s going to enjoy the fucking story. It makes my skin crawl. This man deserves a fucking Oscar.
“It was too quick if you ask me,” Murphy answers. He’s not looking at either one of us, rather keeping his eyes on the line of trees in the distance. “She hung herself in the fucking closet. She left a note saying she no longer had a reason to live because Junior was gone. I could’ve easily made those arrangements for her. All she had to do was ask.”
Murphy chuckles, and I do my best to laugh along with him, but it comes out throaty and full of despair.
“Kind of fucked you on the insurance, huh?” Jinx says, and I could hug the man right now.
Mrs. Murphy’s cause of death was ruled an accident from falling down the stairs because that’s what this asshole reported to the police. He’s been collecting her life insurance, having filed for it the day after she died, so now we have him for fraud, but it may not be enough. If only we could get him to admit that the police helped him arrange it, then conspiracy laws could come into effect.
Murphy grins wide like he’s the slyest devil around. “Oh, I’m getting that money. I cut her ass down and threw her down the damn stairs. Sheriff didn’t even bat an eyelash when he came to visit.”
“Lucky motherfucker,” Jinx chuckles. “No fucking woman to worry about getting on your nerves, and the money? Talk about fucking life goals.”
“Sounds perfect,” I mutter, avoiding the glare from Jinx when I break character with my sarcasm. “My old lady disappeared while I was locked up. I haven’t been able to find her.”
“I told you not to give up hope.” Jinx smacks his leg into mine. “We won’t stop looking until we find her, and then the bitch will pay for even thinking she could file those damn charges on you.”
“That bitch of Junior’s is a fucking thorn in my side,” Murphy hisses as he tosses yet another empty beer can on the front porch. “She killed my fucking boy.”
My shoulders begin to shake.
“Far as I see it, the only good broad is a fucking dead one.”
Jinx and Murphy smile, smacking their cans together in camaraderie.
“Damn straight. I’d do anything to watch that stupid fucking cunt burn alive.”
“Anything?” Jinx asks. Murphy doesn’t notice him set his still full can to the side. “Mind if I grab another?”
“Help yourself,” Murphy offers, his hospitality extending so graciously to two men he doesn’t know when he couldn’t even manage to keep his fists out of his wife’s face.
Silence once again swarms around us with the gnats and other bugs, and I’m thinking we’ve gotten the only thing we can get. Insurance fraud isn’t a murder confession, but it may be enough to distract the old man from whatever vengeful plan he’s working up in that sadistic head of his.
“Anything,” he mutters.
“What’s that?” Jinx asks, and I’m grateful he’s here because I would’ve ruined this already if I were responsible for keeping this