DR13 - Last Car To Elysian Fields - Plot & Excerpts
Pete was over six feet and walked like he was made from coat hanger wire, but he had a fast ball that came down the chute like a B.B. and LSU and the University of Texas had both offered him athletic scholarships. Seven days a week, at 5:00 A.M." Pete and his widowed mother delivered the Baton Rouge Morning Advocate from one end of town to the other. He stood in front of my desk, a paper sack hanging from his left hand. "What's happening', Pete?" I said. "Found something early this morning. Thought maybe I should bring it in," he said. "Oh?" "Yeah," he said, sticking his hand in the bag. "I was passing Iberia General, going toward Jeanerette, when something come sailing out of a pickup." "Whoa," I said, rising from my chair, just as he lifted a-blue-black, pearl-handled revolver from the paper sack. I could see the leaded ends of bullets inside the cylinder. I stepped away from the muzzle and took the gun from him. "How much have you handled this, partner?" I asked. "A little bit," he replied, his eyes leaving mine.
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