“Would you like me to send someone over to take care of those bodies, Longarm?”
“I suppose the police will have t’ be notified,” Longarm agreed.
“Aw, you ain’t gonna catch ’em out that easy. They all know to stay clear of you. But I can get the barber... he’s our undertaker too ... I can get him to send somebody an’ pick up the stiffs. They’ll get around to finishing the paperwork after you’ve gone.”
“I’d appreciate that, Parson. Thanks.”
“Glad t' help, Longarm. G’night.” Parson smiled and touched his forehead and disappeared into the night.
Longarm blinked. Parson really was very good. One moment he was there. The next he seemed not to be. Longarm happened to know the trick of it, so he wasn't quite as startled as he might have been. Anyone unfamiliar with the techniques of moving soft and silent in the dark would be scared spitless of anyone as good at it as Parson. Even so, Longarm gave credit where it was due, and silently saluted Parson for the fine performance, waving toward
where the man pretty much had to be before Longarm turned and went back inside the cabin.
He could hear a subdued laugh behind him as Parson acknowledged that he’d been caught out fair and square.
Aggie looked annoyed. “You certainly took your time about seeing to my welfare,” she complained.
“You weren’t hurt.”
“I was frightened. And what have you done about that since you came back inside? Nothing, that’s what. Absolutely nothing.”
Longarm shrugged. All the danger had been outside and nothing had really come of it, so what was she worried about now? He failed to see why she was so fussed up.
Aggie looked like she was in a humor to pout and then expect him to jolly her out of it. The problem was that Longarm wasn’t in a mood to do the jollying she so obviously wanted. Instead he told her in a dry and straightforward manner about the would-be arsonists.
“Those two won’t be causing trouble anymore,” he concluded, “but there’s nothing to say that a good idea gone wrong can’t be tried the second time.”
“What’s that?”