Comeback (Gun Pedersen Book 1) Read Online Free PDF Page A

yellow tabby. It blinked twice, then made a sound like a child clearing its throat. “Hoo,” Gun breathed. The cat was spread out wide and staked against the wall, nails driven through all four paws. It was sliced open from throat to anus, and loops of multicolored entrails hung clear to the floor.
    “Still alive,” Tig moaned from outside.
    Gun stepped from the shed, thinking of himself at thirteen, having to shoot his big Newfoundland dog Sally after she got hit on the road by the mailman’s car. He’d used the twelve-gauge at close range, quick and precise, and hadn’t cried until he dragged her off into the woods for burial and felt the dead weight of her. Now he walked past Tig to the pickup truck, took the .38 Smith & Wesson from underneath the seat and came back.
    “Oh, my God,” said Tig. Gun rested a hand briefly on the man’s shoulder, then reentered the shed.
    He was careful to plug one ear with a finger and turn the other away from the pistol, but the shot was still incredibly loud inside the small building. The cat relaxed and its head drooped forward. There was a small new hole of sky in the wall. Gun found a
    hammer and removed the nails. He took the animal down and buried it off in the scrub weeds beyond Tig’s lawn.
    “I don’t think you’re listening, Gun. My God, it’s terrorism, plain and simple, can’t you see it? Hedman’s trying to turn me around, mess up my head. The man’s paranoid. He’s got all the money, he’s got the support of almost everybody with any real influence around here, and he’s still afraid he’s gonna lose. He’s been out here to visit me half a dozen times in the last month. Trying to get me to change my mind. And the last time he got mad. Made some threats.”
    “Such as.”
    “I can’t go into it, Gun. Simply can’t.” Tig’s shoulders rose and fell.
    “So what are you asking me to do?” Gun shook his head as Tig offered him the bottle, watched as the man refilled his own glass yet again.
    “Aw, damn, I don’t know. It’s getting pretty late in the game to do anything. Would have been nice, though, if there was somebody else on my side to take a little of the heat, you know? Somebody like you. Used to think of you as a friend. Or at least a guy who wouldn’t back down when somebody wanted to shit in his water. That money you gave to Walleyes Unlimited? Really helped. And the time you caught those poachers north of old man Young’s place.” Tig’s voice was getting sloppy. “I thought you were the sort of guy that comes through in a jam. Not somebody who runs off, you know?”
    Gun got up to leave. “Sorry, but I can’t do anything. You’ll have to handle it alone, Tig.”
    “You wanna see Hedman win this one, that’s what I think. You stand to make a little cash on the deal. ”
    Gun leaned down over the man and put a finger into his chest. Tig scooted his chair backward. “Look,” Gun said. “I think this plan of Hedman’s stinks, okay? Same as you do. But there’s a lot of folks around here, and I mean a lot of them, who don’t happen to agree with us.”
    “Who? Tell me who?”
    Gun sat back down at the table and propped up the elbow of his talking arm, took a breath. “The guy laid off from Hedman’s mill, say. Got a bunch of kids at home and his wife’s out waiting on tables or serving drinks.” He had to stop to fight off a rush of shame in his belly. He’d never been a bullshitter and it was too late to start now.
    Tig laughed drunkenly. “You’d make a lousy politi cian, know that?”
    Gun got to his feet again and moved toward the door. “That’s right. You’ve got plenty of those types running around already. Let them fight it out. People like yourself and Reverend Barr. You guys can sum mon your forces and have your little war and one side’ll win. That’s how these things work. I don’t want any part of it.”
    Tig drained off another glass of brandy and laughed again, bitterly, shaking his head. “I’ve