Page 18 of Small Town Beast 2: Saverin’s Duet (Sins of the South)

“Yeth,” said Stu. Someone had apparently knocked his teeth out.

“The rest of you,” said Absalom, snapping the others to attention. “Somebody have a measuring tape?”

“I do,” said Lloyd, a carpenter by trade.

Absalom nodded. “Okay. Guts, you switch with Lloyd. Clear out the roasting pits and get some wood together. Lloyd, I want you to measure all the furniture in here. Take pictures of yon paintings, too.”

“For what, boss?”

“To jerk my dick at, Lloyd. Just do what I tell you. Everything we do, we need to write it down and file it. Step to it.”

“What about Bailey?” Hiram piped up, trying to start shit as usual.

Absalom clapped him on the shoulder. “I’ll talk to Bailey. You just stay there and try not to look like a jackass.”

Hiram reddened.

“Nobody is to shoot at Saverin, even if he throws a punch,” Absalom said firmly. “Are we clear? Heave-ho.”

The men reluctantly shuffled into action.

Absalom hoped they followed the last part of his orders.

The last thing he needed was a trigger-happy jackass shooting at Saverin, or that foul bastard Guts trying to defile the girl.

Saverin was still a Bailey. The Baileys never had the numbers of the Snatch Hills and the Green Trees, but held prestige due to their clean reputation. Honest as a Bailey , it was said.

Absalom walked out of the house, his neck prickling as he felt a number of Snatch Hill eyes on his back. They won’t kill me yet, he thought. They’re scared of Hiram. They want to see if I’ll take him out first. Maybe they’re arguing about it right now.

Then one of the Green Trees, his cousin Shadrac, came out of nowhere and stopped him.

“Abi,” hissed Shadrac. “We found something. Basement.”

Bingo.

“A tunnel?” Absalom murmured.

“Possibly. We didn’t tell nobody yet.”

“Keep it quiet. I’ll be up in a few. I want to talk to you about something.”

“I hope it’s getting rid of them dirty Snatch Hills,” Shadrac spat. “I can’t stand the sight nor smell of these motherfuckers. I wish to God we didn’t need their guns.”

“We’ll have them out of here before tomorrow if all goes well,” Absaloms said slowly, watching Saverin clear the hill.

Shadrac clapped him on the shoulder. “What’s the plan, boss?”

No such thing as a fair fight. “Does your Aunt Eileen still have that flower garden?”

Shadrac’s eyes widened. “Yeah. She does. She don’t live too far from here, neither. Why?”

“Go wait upstairs for me. I’ll write her a note. And listen— don’t touch none of the whiskey . Make sure our boys know that. Spread the word around.”

Shadrac nodded. “You got it, Abi.”

Saverin had once been a familiar face at the Harvest. He’d become Roman’s right-hand when Roman became the shot-caller after Duke.

But then Saverin’s brother had been killed in Roman’s war with the Snatch Hills, and poor luck had hounded the family ever since.

Saverin became a hermit, never venturing from his hill.

The bad blood between him and Roman ran deep over Sam Bailey’s murder.

In light of that, some days back Absalom had extended an olive branch to Saverin.

The rejection was swift and cold. Not surprising.

These blueblood clans were a proud bunch and they looked down on Green Trees and Snatch Hills as trash.

But securing Saverin’s blessing was important for Absalom’s new order.

A Bailey endorsement would smooth the feathers of the older conservatives who hadn’t liked Roman but might turn up their noses at a Green Tree leading the Harvest. Saverin was also filthy rich; a well to be tapped if others ran dry.

No; they could not get rid of Saverin. He had to be brought into the fold. And since he’d refused the carrot, the only thing left was the stick.

Saverin stopped his furious march just inches from Absalom’s face. They were the same height, same brawny build. “Send my woman down,” he bit out. “You’ve gone too far now. Send her down or somebody is getting chopped.”

Crash Walker— of all people— came up behind Saverin, face grim, holding the arm of a scared-looking elderly woman. Crash didn’t seem like a threat and he had nothing to do with Harvest politics; it seemed like he’d just come to back Saverin.

“Let’s talk for a minute. No need for threats,” Absalom said mildly.

Saverin got in his face. “Did anyone touch her?”

“Nobody hurt a hair on her head. Hiram acted rashly; I never asked him to go after your girl, but I do take responsibility for what happened.”

“You killed that old man. He was a veteran. He did nothing. He wasn’t involved in your politics.

You son of a bitch.” Saverin’s green eyes were huge and insane.

“He fought for our country! Y’all gunned him down on his own property, you kidnapped my girl, and you think I’ll come here and make nice? Where the hell is Roman?”

What old man? Hiram hadn’t mentioned a casualty in taking the prisoner. Absalom’s back teeth clenched. That was just bad optics, and the man had been a veteran ?

Perhaps the man had family; Absalom would look into it. Recompense might be paid...Smooth it over… Such was the price for aligning himself with Hiram and his mob. And the rub was that he hadn’t even needed them. Roman had chosen peaceful surrender, so what good were the Snatch Hill guns?

“Roman is gone,” Absalom told Saverin. “Mind your tongue, Bailey.”

“Green Tree scum!” roared Saverin. With his long hair loose the last surviving Bailey looked like a wild animal. His hand was rigid at his hip where his Kimber 1911 jutted from its holster. “Bring my woman out. She’s not involved with the clans. She’s got a kid. You go too far!”

But Absalom shook his head. Hand over a piece of valuable leverage on a snap?

No; Bailey had to understand how things worked around here now.

“How about you come to the gathering up here tonight,” he suggested.

“Starts at six. It’ll be a show of good faith.

You come, have a couple drinks, talk to some people.

Then you go home with your girl, no harm done.

I think that’s more than fair considering the restraint I’ve showed you. Over and over.” His blue eyes narrowed.

Saverin trembled with rage. “Restraint is me not gutting you where you stand.”

“That,” said Absalom, “Is the last time you threaten me.”

“You want me to bend the knee,” Saverin heaved. “I won’t do it. Not on your life.”

“Suit yourself.”

“I want Tanya walking down that hill in five minutes. Or I swear on my name— ”

“And what’s that worth?” wondered Absalom, suppressing the urge to take the arrogant Bailey by the throat.

“Land? A forest of timber? Some barrels of whiskey? Millions of dollars, maybe? You Baileys always ran ahead of us, right along with the McCalls. But nothing’s fixed in this world.

I learned that long ago.” He met Saverin’s outraged stare unblinking and continued, “Last night, Saverin, you shot a man dead in self defense. That was what the Sheriff’s Deputy wrote in his report.

But maybe the Deputy, in reviewing the facts, determined it was in truth a crime of passion.

Murder in the first degree. One phonecall, that’s all it would take.

And what would happen to your girl? I’m busy.

Can’t watch her all the time. Hiram’s got his eyes on her… Neither of us want that.”

“You’re the assistant Deputy,” said Saverin, eyes wide. “By God, I should just shoot you!”

Crash Walker spoke now for the first time. “Absalom,” he said in his slow, deep voice. “In a hard rain, all birds seek shelter somewhere.”

“The eagle flies above the clouds,” said Absalom.

Crash shook his head.

“I hope to see you both tonight,” Absalom said.

He nodded to the men and cast a quick glance over the old woman with mild curiosity.

She hadn’t said a word. Privately he noted the old woman’s resemblance to their prisoner, Saverin’s girlfriend.

Her older sister, maybe? That was interesting.

Out loud he said, “We want what’s best for the family, and Florin.

The clans united, not divided by old hatred. ”

“Keep those Snatch Hill animals away from Tanya. That’s all I’m going to tell you, boy.” Then Saverin stared over Absalom’s shoulders at the house. Absalom knew what he was thinking. He’d thought the same when Hiram threatened Lorrie.

If it was her, I’d burn it all down.

When Absalom re-entered the house, the first thing he saw was his wife and Hiram in a corner with their heads together.

Dinah must have come up while he was talking to Saverin.

Rage flooded Absalom at the reminder of the fruitless pact he’d been forced to make with the Snatch Hills.

He was grateful for a peaceful takeover, but he’d had to violate Lorrie by marrying another woman, all to get the Snatch Hills on his side for the purpose of their guns. And for nothing.

He tried to see Duke in Dinah’s face, as people had so often seen in his own.

She looked like any other woman from her stock.

She looked like Hiram, and Hiram looked like a Snatch Hill.

Twins. My half brother and sister, allegedly.

She’s my fucking sister, and they knew. They want to humiliate me.

And she’s pregnant…they’ll think it’s mine.

But he had to keep up the show. When his wife caught him staring she turned pale as ginseng. He walked up to her and kissed her cheek. She smelled like cigarettes. “I need to talk to you,” she whispered urgently.

She took his hand in her fat clammy one and lured him to another corner, leaving Hiram to wander off. But not before Absalom caught the sly look on his face.

“We need to stop this, Absalom,” Dinah burst out as soon as they were alone. “This marriage is a joke!”

“I couldn’t agree more," he said, and watched her sag with relief. Unable to stop himself he added, “Married the wrong brother, did you?”