Virgil said to Jenkins, “Read her rights to her, huh?”
Jenkins did the Miranda, and then Shrake said, in his most kindly voice, “Did you understand that? You don’t even have to pay for a lawyer.”
Jenkins said, “Jesus, Shrake, you trying to get a date? Let’s put the cuffs on her and haul her ass down to the Buchanan County jail, get her processed in, throw the mutt in the pound or whatever they’ve got down there, and get some sleep.”
Judy began to cry again, and Shrake said, “C’mon, I’ll walk you down to the road.” To Virgil: “Get the car, pick us up.”
They started down the hill, and when they were out of earshot, Virgil said, “Makes me feel bad.”
“’Cause you’re Mr. Softy,” Jenkins said. “Let Shrake empty her out, and then, you know . . . whatever.”
“Still makes me feel bad.”
“Not as bad as I feel. My ankle burns like fire. That dog has jaws like a fuckin’ alligator.”
“It’s a fuckin’ Chihuahua,” Virgil said. “It’s practically a fuckin’ hamster.”
“I don’t care if it’s a fuckin’ chickadee, it bit me on the fuckin’ leg.”
“Ah, fuck it,” Virgil said.
—
JENKINS AND VIRGIL walked back up the valley to the Ruff house, and found Muddy inside, tootling on a black electric guitar, a complex version of Creedence’s “Lookin’ Out My Back Door,” on which he was playing two separate guitar parts. “You gonna play in a band?” Virgil asked.
“Maybe. I’m good enough,” Muddy said. “But . . . my old man says it’s a tough way to make a living, if you’re not one in a million.”
“Probably right about that,” Jenkins said. “On the other hand, you may be. If you are, it’d be a shame to miss out on it.”
“Dad says if I get really good at it, the discipline will let me be good at anything.”
“I wish my dad had told me that,” Jenkins said. “My old man told me to stay away from Lone Star beer. Which he was drinking at the time.”
Virgil told Muddy to have his father call. “I need to talk to him about what happened tonight. I have a feeling he might be a little pissed.”
“Probably. But it goes away pretty quick. He told me he thought you were a good guy, considering the T-shirt you had on.”
Virgil nodded: “Good to know. But tell him to call.”
—
THEY TOOK THE CAR back to the fire scene, where Shrake was waiting with Judy Burk. When they came up, Shrake gave Virgil a wave, so Virgil parked at the side of the road and he and Jenkins got out into the lights of a dozen vehicles.
“Judy is really torn up about all of this—she didn’t know what Sharf was up to,” Shrake said. “He told her that the landlord had kicked him out and was going to take all of his stuff, and she just came down here with him and another friend to help get his clothes. Then, all of this, and he wound up ditching her and Brutus.”
Jenkins flinched: “The dog is named Brutus? Why? Because he stabs people with his teeth?”
Judy backed into Shrake, and Shrake said, “Hey, listen to what I’m telling you. She didn’t have anything to do with all this. I think we just give her a ride home—she lives in CarryTown, just on the other side of Trippton—it’s an extra two minutes for us.”