Written Aug. 20
Irene looked at him for a moment, weighing his words carefully while lighting another cigarette with her trusty Bic. “Yeah, I gotta worry. I live here. My family's always lived here. We'll live here after you stir up that hornet's nest and they need somebody to sting. Who do ya think that'll be? Eh?”
Truman's excitement over the bone being found gathered a sense of unease at the edges. He'd take all the heat that could be dished but he didn't want to share the entree of danger with innocents.
He stared at a bedraggled Irene, rode hard and put away wet, long miles and time etched on her face like an unfortunate roadmap of land-locked isolation in a community that harbored danger.
“Don't worry M'am, the trail won't lead back to you. I give you my word.”
Karl Truman remembered her words with a ringing clarity now, they'd wormed into the fabric of his memories perfectly.
“It could be more than your vow, officer. Much more.” Irene had not said those words in a thoughtful way.
She'd uttered them like a certain promise....