“We don’t know for sure it was the redheaded guy.” Life would be easier for Red if he just assumed the redhead was responsible. Billy Don said, “Sounds pretty likely. That clerk, J.D., said the cops asked a bunch of questions about that one guy. They didn’t seem to care about any of the other customers that was in there right before Armando drove up.” “Yeah, but that don’t mean the redheaded dude done it. Coulda been somebody that never even came into the store.” They were parked outside the Dairy Queen, with several bags of food on the seat between them. A Hungr-Buster for Red. Two Beltbusters, a chili cheese dog, a chicken wrap, and large tater tots for Billy Don. “Look,” Red said, “you know I’d just as soon get this whole business wrapped up, so it’s tempting as hell to agree that it must’ve been the redheaded guy. Then we could track him down, you could whip his ass, and we could get back to hunting a fifty-thousand-dollar pig, which is way more important than this bullshit, if you want my opinion.”
