Wyoming Winterkill Read Online Free PDF

announced.
    â€œI can see that,” Fletcher said. Taking a step back, he squatted, his rifle still trained on Fargo. “Let’s all have some coffee to warm us before we head back.”
    His hand hidden by the blanket, Fargo eased the toothpick from his boot.
    â€œLet’s see,” Fletcher went on. “You’ll make the tenth we’ve done in.”
    â€œEleven,” Margaret corrected him. “You keep forgetting that drummer.”
    â€œHe wasn’t worth the killing. He didn’t have anything on him but a few dollars and those damn perfumes he was selling.”
    â€œWho wants to smell like flowers?” Lector said.
    â€œWe don’t rob everybody who stops,” Fletcher enlightened Fargo. “Only those who have things we can sell. That old couple had a lot of stuff.”
    â€œFine things,” Margaret said.
    Fargo was curious. “You never keep any of it for yourself?”
    â€œGoodness, no,” Margaret said. “Someone might come along looking for them and see it. No, most we sell to others who stop by or take it to Fort Laramie and sell it to the pilgrims bound for Oregon.”
    â€œTell him everything, why don’t you?” Fletcher said.
    â€œWhy are you being so mean to me this morning?” Margaret asked.
    â€œAs if you can’t guess.”
    â€œNot that again,” Margaret said. “How many times must I tell you it’s you and only you.”
    â€œDid you sleep with him or not?” Fletcher asked.
    â€œUh-oh,” Lector said.
    â€œNot that again,” Hector said.
    Margaret was checking how much coffee was left in the pot.
    â€œI asked you a question,” Fletcher said.
    â€œFor your information,” Margaret said without looking up, “I did not.”
    Fletcher looked at Fargo. “Is that true?”
    â€œHell, no,” Fargo said. “I screwed her five times. We didn’t hardly sleep all night.”
    â€œHe’s lying to get your goat,” Margaret said. “You saw we were asleep when you snuck up on him.”
    â€œThat doesn’t prove anything,” Fletcher said. “I wouldn’t put it past you. You like it too much. You’ve done it with Wilbur. I know you have even though you deny it.”
    â€œOh, hell,” Lector said. “I’m so tired of hearing this.”
    â€œMe too,” Hector said.
    â€œBoth of you shut up,” Fletcher snapped. “This is between her and me.”
    â€œI do what I have to for the both of us,” Margaret said wearily. “You know that.”
    Fargo was mulling how he might turn this to his advantage. His initial notion was to goad Fletcher into lowering the rifle and hitting her but now he had a different idea. “She’s right,” he said.
    â€œWhat?” Fletcher said.
    Margaret glanced around, her eyebrows puckered quizzically.
    â€œI’m lying to make you mad,” Fargo confessed. “We didn’t make love. I wanted to but she said she wasn’t interested.”
    â€œMargaret not interested?” Lector said.
    â€œHow’s that possible?” Hector said.
    Fletcher turned his glare on them. “I will by God shoot the both of you.”
    â€œWe know how she is,” Lector said.
    â€œBoy, do we,” Hector echoed.
    Margaret was still giving Fargo a puzzled look.
    â€œShe told me that she had someone she cared for.” Fargo laid it on thick. “And she wanted to be true to whoever it was.”
    Fletcher turned toward her and smiled, his rifle muzzle dipping toward the ground. “Well, now. I’m right pleased to hear that.”
    â€œThank you for telling the truth,” Margaret said to Fargo.
    â€œNo reason not to,” Fargo said. He was worried she’d guess what he was up to; she appeared to be the brains of the bunch. To distract her he asked, “What did you do with the bodies of the old couple and the