Part 19 (1/2)

'You showed it to everyone else in town.'

'That's true,' Nadine said.

Book gave his intern a sharp look then handed the letter to Carla. She read it.

'See, he said his client is contaminating the aquifer. He meant Billy Bob. And now he's dead.' She checked the postmark on the envelope. 'Died the same day he mailed the letter. That seem odd to you?'

'Oh, G.o.d,' Nadine said. 'Don't tell me you don't believe in coincidences?'

'Not that much of a coincidence. Professor, Nathan said he hadn't put all the pieces together yet, said he'd come back to me when he did. Maybe he did. Maybe he put the pieces together. Maybe Billy Bob killed him. Professor, work with me. Please.'

'I'm sorry, Ms. Kent. I work alone.'

'Then why'd you bring me?' Nadine said.

'I mean, alone with an intern. This is Nadine Honeywell.'

'If you didn't come to Marfa to find the truth,' Carla said, 'then why'd you come?'

'To fish.'

'Fish? Where? There's no water between here and the Rio Grande, and if you eat fish from that cesspool you'll die.'

Carla now gave him a sharp look; she stood.

'Don't toy with me, Professor.'

She marched over to the bar. Book watched after her. She was an attractive woman, lean with a low body ma.s.s index, no older than thirty, with dark hair and eyes. She wore tight jeans, boots, and the T-s.h.i.+rt. She looked tough.

'Don't worry,' Nadine said. 'You won't be romancing a lesbian.'

'I don't plan on romancing her, but how do you know she's not a lesbian?'

'Because I attract lesbians. I don't know why. But she wasn't attracted to me. She was to you. She'll be back.'

Nadine sipped her soda.

'Why'd you play coy with her?'

'Because I don't know her.'

Nadine nodded at the bar.

'Everyone else does.'

The locals at the bar regarded Carla as if she had a communicable disease; she was apparently well known but not welcome. She stood alone.

'Come on,' Sonny said. 'Let's have some fun with Carla.'

'I wouldn't do that if I was you,' Jimmy John said.

'Why not?'

'Looks like she's friends with the professor.'

'What professor?'

'Don't you read the newspaper?'

'h.e.l.l, no.'

Jimmy John pointed with his forehead in the professor's direction.

'Him?' Sonny said. 'That skinny-a.s.s guy she was talking to, he's a professor?'

'Yep.'

'That long hair, he looks like one of them queer artists. We're supposed to be scared of him?'

Sonny grabbed his Lone Star longneck and headed over to Carla at the bar. Mitch and the others followed. Jimmy John popped two Advil and chased them with a beer.

'We'll get started on the Welch brief tonight,' Book said to his intern. But his eyes were on the bar where several roughnecks wearing red Barnett Oil and Gas jumpsuits and holding longnecks walked up and bookended Carla. They said something to her, and she said something to them. It was obviously not polite conversation. She got in one man's face and said what appeared to be the F-word and not 'fracking.' She turned to leave, but the roughnecks grabbed her arms. She struggled against their holds. Her eyes went to Book. She no longer looked tough.

He groaned then pushed himself up and walked over to Carla and the roughnecks. They were bigger, stronger, younger, and drunker.

'How about a dance, Ms. Kent?'

'I'd love to.'

She again tried to pull away, but the roughnecks maintained their hold.

'The lady wants to dance,' Book said.

The biggest roughneck held up one finger and said, 'A, she ain't no lady.'

A second finger.

'Two, there ain't no music playing.'

A third finger.

'And D, this ain't-'

'No, no, no,' Book said. 'You either say ”three” or ”C,” not ”D.” D would be four fingers.'