Page 29 of Long Pig
To make this fantasy come true, he had to find a home base where he had privacy.
The bed next door finally stopped hitting the wall, and he heard nothing more from the man and woman. Unable to sleep, he dressed then left to grab snack food from an all-night store a few blocks away. They had a good magazine section, and he grabbed one of his favorites along with a local paper that had houses listed for sale.
Searching for property, along with his fantasies, took over every aspect of his life. At a store in Arizona off I-40, he found a free guide with land information. One caught his eye: 40-acre lots for development, $200 down. The place was called Juniper Spring's Ranch. He decided to stop at the land office when he came back through Arizona.
It took three days to land a return haul in Los Angeles. The temperature made it too hot to sleep above the cab, so he found another cheap hotel with a Denny’s next door.
Butch ordered a hamburger and almost spit it out due to its lack of taste, unless you counted the overabundance of salt. This happened when companies stopped buying direct from a butcher and purchased their meat from those who cared nothing about quality. So much went into running a good butcher shop, and now the entire trade was being lost to economics. If you wanted something good to eat, you had to pay for it, and there was nothing better than fresh-cut meat.
Butch set out before the sun rose, planning to stop at the land office after he left California. His plans changed. Even though it was early, the sun beat down on the cracked asphalt. On the shoulder of the highway, a woman stood with her thumb out. Her clothes were faded and dusty, with smudges of dirt.
No one would miss her.
He pulled over and jumped down from the truck as she came running. As she drew closer, the scent of her unwashed body carried a mixture of dried sweat and onions. Her hair was clumped in greasy strands. Butch’s overall impression was one of distaste. This woman desired drugs more than cleanliness, and she left a bitter note on the wind. Her gaunt cheeks and acne disguised her age, but she wasn’t a teenager.
There was little traffic, but even if the road was crowded, this woman was a ghost on the highway, easily overlooked and easily forgotten.
"Where you headed?" Butch asked.
"Anywhere out of this damned heat," she replied, a cigarette in her hand which accounted for her raspy voice. Calculation filled her expression as she sized Butch up. “Got dumped by my boyfriend. If you give me a lift, I’ve got a little extra in the tank that you might enjoy.”
The thought of having sex with the woman turned his stomach. She was too filthy and beyond disgusting. Another idea grew.
“Sure, hop in,” he told her. “Sorry though, you can’t smoke in the cab. I’ve got a lung condition.”
“No problem,” she said and took a few final puffs before discarding the butt on the side of the road.
A sign showed a rest stop twenty miles ahead. With the few vehicles on the highway, his evolving plan was doable. They were sixty miles from the agriculture checkpoint near the California-Arizona border. Even though he was going in the opposite direction and wouldn’t need to stop, police officers hung around the checkpoint. He didn’t want to be remembered with a woman in the truck’s cab.
“Name’s Cindy,” she said as soon as she was situated.
“Butch,” he offered with an internal smile.
“Got anything to eat?”
He handed her his last chocolate bar. “It’s all I’ve got. I’ll buy you breakfast when we get to Blythe,” he promised.
“That would be great. Do you have any weed?”
“No weed, and no alcohol. I don’t want to lose my license.”
“Got it,” she said. “I’ll take a nap if you don’t mind.”
Butch didn’t answer, but he did roll his window down a bit to allow her stench to escape. Within a few minutes, she was snoring. The sound irritated him. It would be nice to wrap his fingers around her throat to see how long it took to silence her. His grip tightened on the steering wheel as his palms grew damp at the thought of seeing the life fade from her eyes.
Chapter Nineteen
Lessons in Intimidation
Willow
A feeling of being watched began to haunt Willow. She told herself it was all in her mind, but she couldn’t help remembering Lance Hogg staring in through her bedroom window a year before. The image replayed itself constantly, but she felt foolish and didn’t mention the feeling to Dale.
When she hiked, she kept a close watch for human prints. A few times Max looked into the distance and growled. If Daisy was with them, her head would turn in the same direction as Max, but within a few seconds, her tail would wag.
The cattle ranchers used four wheelers to check on the cows that had free rein on her property. She noticed their tire tracks occasionally. Even though nothing out of the ordinary showed itself, Willow couldn’t shake the strange feeling that stayed with her.
Now that she had all four property markers located, her hikes were simply for exercise and pleasure. She loved standing at the top of a hill and looking out over the land that extended as far as she could see. She picked up smaller pieces of petrified wood and stuffed them in her pockets. She left the larger pieces for a return trip.