No Country for Old Men(18)

Yeah, Wendell said. I guess you ought to be careful about cussin the dead.





I would say at the least there probably aint no luck in it.





It's just a bunch of Mexican drugrunners.





They were. They aint now.





I aint sure what you're sayin.





I'm just sayin that whatever they were the only thing they are now is dead.





I'll have to sleep on that.





The sheriff tilted forward the Bronco seat and looked in the rear. He wet his finger and pressed it to the carpet and held his finger to the light. That's been some of that old mexican brown dope in the back of this rig.





Long gone now though, aint it.





Long gone.





Wendell squatted and studied the ground under the door. It looks like there's some more here on the ground. Could be that somebody cut into one of the packages. See what was inside.





Could of been checkin the quality. Gettin ready to trade.





They didnt trade. They shot each other.





Bell nodded.





There might not of even been no money.





That's possible.





But you dont believe it.





Bell thought about it. No, he said. Probably I dont.





There was a second mix-up out here.





Yes, Bell said. At least that.





He rose and pushed the seat back. This good citizen's been shot between the eyes too.





Yep.





They walked around the truck. Bell pointed.





That's been a machinegun, them straight runs yonder.





I'd say it has. So where do you reckon the driver got to?





It's probably one of them layin in the grass yonder.





Bell had taken out his kerchief and he held it across his nose and reached in and picked up a number of brass shell-casings out of the floor and looked at the numbers stamped in the base.





What calibers you got there, Sheriff?





Nine millimeter. A couple of .45 ACP's.





He dropped the shells back into the floor and stepped back and picked up his rifle from where he'd leaned it against the vehicle. Somebody's unloaded on this thing with a shotgun by the look of it.





You think them holes are big enough?





I dont think they're double ought. More likely number four buck.





More buck for your bang.





You could put it that way. You want to clean out a alley that's a pretty good way to go.





Wendell looked over the caldera. Well, he said. Somebody's walked away from here.





I'd say they have.





How come do you reckon the coyotes aint been at them?





Bell shook his head. I dont know, he said. Supposedly they wont eat a Mexican.





Them over yonder aint Mexican.





Well, that's true.





It must of sounded like Vietnam out here.





Vietnam, the sheriff said.





They walked out between the trucks. Bell picked up a few more casings and looked at them and dropped them again. He picked up a blue plastic speedloader. He stood and looked over the scene. I'll tell you what, he said.





Tell me.





It dont much stand to reason that the last man never even got hit.





I would agree with that.





Why dont we get the horses and just ride up here a ways and look around. Maybe cut for sign a little.





We can do that.





Can you tell me what they wanted with a dog out here?





I got no idea.





When they found the dead man in the rocks a mile to the northeast Bell just sat his wife's horse. He sat there for a long time.





What are you thinkin, Sheriff?





The sheriff shook his head. He got down and walked over to where the dead man lay slumped. He walked over the ground, the rifle yoked across his shoulders. He squatted and studied the grass.





We got another execution here Sheriff?





No, I believe this one's died of natural causes.





Natural causes?





Natural to the line of work he's in.





He aint got a gun.





No.





Wendell leaned and spat. Somebody's been here before us.





I'd say so.





You think he was packin the money?





I'd say there's a good chance of it.





So we still aint found the last man, have we?





Bell didnt answer. He rose and stood looking out over the country.





It's a mess, aint it Sheriff?





If it aint it'll do till a mess gets here.





They rode back across the upper end of the caldera. They sat the horses and looked down at Moss's truck.





So where do you think this good old boy is at? Wendell said.





I do not know.





I would take it his whereabouts is pretty high on your worklist.





The sheriff nodded. Pretty high, he said.





They drove back to town and the sheriff sent Wendell on to the house with the truck and the horses.





You be sure and rap on the kitchen door and thank Loretta.