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"If you won’t do it, he will," said Cottle
"Why would I choose? I’m screwed either way, aren’t I?"
"I don’t know I don’t want to know It’s not my business"
"The hell it’s not"
"It’s not ot to sit here till you give ive it to hiot justto the cops"
"It’s too late for that"
"I’m in shit to my hips," Billy admitted, "but I’ll only be deeper later"
When Billy rose fro chair, Cottle said sharply, "Sit down! If you try to leave this porch before I do, you’ll be shot in the head"
The stewbum stowed bottles in his pockets, not weapons Even if Cottle had a gun, Billy was confident about taking it froht now is through the scope of a high-powered rifle"
The gloom of the woods to the north, the dazzle of sun on the slope to the east, the rock formations and swales of the fields on the south side of the county road…
"He can just about read our lips," Cottle said "It’s the finest un, and he’s qualified for it He can nail you at a thousand yards"
"Maybe that’s what I want"
"He’s willing to oblige But he doesn’t think you’re ready He says you will be eventually In the end, he says, you’ll ask hiuilt, Billy Wiles suddenly felt like a feather, and he feared a sudden wind He settled into the rocking chair
"Why it’s too late to go to the cops," Cottle said, "is because he planted evidence in her place, on her body"
The day remained still, but here ca, soernails"
Billy’s et htun, when Giselle Winslow had still been alive, the freak had already been in this house
The shade on the porch no longer held the su on blacktop in the sun "What else besides hairs?"
"He didn’t say But it’s nothing the police will tie to you… unless for some reason you come under suspicion"
"Which he canmaybe they should ask you for a DNA salanced at the atch
So did Billy
"One minute left," Cottle advised
Chapter 23
One minute Billy Wiles stared at his atch as if it were a bo about the fleeting seconds or the evidence planted at the scene of Giselle Winslow’s hpowered rifle Instead, he was co a mental directory of people in his life Faces flickered rapidly through his mind Those he liked Those tohom he was indifferent Those he disliked
These were dark shoals He could founder on thehts proved as difficult as ignoring a knife held to his throat
A knife of another kind, a knife of guilt cut hi how seriously he had been calculating the co which of theht to life than others, he could not repress a shudder of disgust
"No," he said, seconds before his tio to Hell"
"Then he’ll choose for you," Cottle reht It’s your call It’s on your shoulders, Mr Wiles It’s none of ht where you are I’o inside to the kitchen phone, wait for his call, and tell hio inside," Billy said "I’ll take the call"
"You’re et us both killed"
"It’s my house"
When he raised the bottle to his ainst his teeth Whiskey dribbled down his chin Without wiping the spill off his face, he said, "He wants you in that chair You try to go inside, he’ll blow your brains out before you reach the door"
"What sense does that make?"
"Then he’ll blow my brains out, too, because I couldn’t inning to intuit so of the freak’s perspective "He’s not ready to end it, not this way"
"What do you know? You don’t know You don’t know squat"
"He’s got a plan, a purpose, soht not make sense to you or me, but it makes sense to him"
"I’m just a useless damn drunk, but even I know you’re full of crap"
"He wants to work it all out the way he conceived it," Billy said more to himself than to Cottle, "not just end it in thethe sun-dazzled day beyond the front porch, spraying spittle as he spoke, Ralph Cottle said, "You bullheaded sonofabitch, will you listen to "