The Revelations of Preston Black (Murder Ballads and Whiskey Book 3) Read Online Free PDF Page B

traffic stops as opportunities to
witness. So he enlisted in the Army after the attack on the American embassy in
Kenya in 1998, figuring he’d have a chance to kill Muslims. But he got into too
much trouble and got something called a ‘Big Chicken Dinner’ for bad conduct.
Bad conduct discharge? Guess that makes sense. Anyway, he’s supposedly trying
to convert or kill ten thousand heathens. Homeland Security calls them a legit
domestic terror threat.”
    “Shit.”
    “Yeah, it ain’t good, bro. His
right-hand man rode with the Pagans for years before becoming a government
snitch. Albert Gallatin Ashby—A.G. for short. He got busted up in Rocky Point
for helping distribute coke and oxy. Got saved in prison. Boggs picks his guys
based on tests of Biblical faith. Like how the Bloods and Crips have to shoot
somebody in broad daylight or whatever? Boggs is into stoning big time. They
have to murder a witch or an adulterer or some other kind of non-believer.”
    Katy spoke up for the first time. “Did
he say witch specifically?”
    Pauly nodded.
    “Hypocrite,” she said. “Doesn’t he
know that Leviticus specifically prohibits tattooing?”
    “I don’t know, Katy. Sorry.” He looked
in the rearview when he spoke to her. “You can ask him when you see him.”
    “Maybe we can get them to change a
bunch of water into wine tonight?” I tried to blow off the severity of the
threat by making light. But Pauly’s words had heft.
    “I’m just saying they’re legit. They
are the ones responsible for sending those nail bombs to all those abortion
clinics a few years back. Then Hicks’s church sheltered the fugitive on its
property while the manhunt was on. Like Katy said, his old man has camps and
farms and warehouses in all these old towns down here. The guy that told me
this used to be a federal agent. Said they’re very slippery.”
    “Well, they can protest and pray all
they want because eventually that’s going to be more publicity for us.
Especially if the media paints us as an underdog. Just wait.” I cracked my
window and watched the rest of Nashville fly by. Cars and trucks filled with
people that got to call this place home. I could see me and Katy living here
one day. “Where we headed? I want to get back to the club and forget about this
shit.”
    “Can’t go back to the club yet. Going
to take you guys to lunch. Prince’s Hot Chicken. Saw it on the Food Network.”
    Katy piped up. “Oh, no. I can’t eat
anything hot and get phlegmy before tonight. What else is there?”
    “You can get mild, your worship.”
    I smiled because Pauly did his best
Han Solo impersonation. Trying to lighten the mood.
    “Take me back to the club then and
we’ll order something,” she said. “You wanted pizza, right? So bad you couldn’t
stop talking about it all night.”
    “We’re already on this side of town so
let me at least run by and pick up some for myself.” Pauly stammered a bit when
he said it, and that gave him away. And he knew that I knew.
    I said, “What is it? No fucking
around.”
    Pauly checked his mirrors, crossed an
empty lane of traffic and rolled his window down. He raised his voice over the
road noise and wind. “Can’t go back to the venue. Not right now anyway.”
    Katy looked way more agitated than I
felt, and said, “Why not?”
    “When I dropped the trailer off the
manager said they got a bomb threat.” With an apologetic shrug he popped a
cigarette into his mouth, lit it and inhaled deeply. “I guess technically you
guys got the bomb threat.”
    He blew smoke out of the window and
took another deep drag. He held it, exhaled it then threw the cigarette onto
the highway. He rolled the window up, shook his head like he didn’t really want
to say more, and muttered, “The bomb squad has its dogs there now.”
     
     
     
    I
hid my face in the clean white towel.
    They were all still back there, no
matter what I did. I could hear them. Over the faint hum of my