Green Desert - Chapter 8.1.1 - Fírí

“The boxes are in the pickup,” I said quietly.

Sévo jerked his head towards the chapel. “What’s going on? We heard shouting.”

Didn’t they care about the boxes? Gogzhuè cared about those guns, right? And these two worked for Gogzhuè. Sévo raised his dark eyebrows at me.

Answer his question. “Vata has a knife to the cop’s throat. But I think he––”

Sévo shoved between me and the wall, Raíngozé following quickly. In three long strides, red flannel shirts flapping behind them, they got to the open doorway. I caught myself against the wall behind me.

“Mrs. Kılímí, drop the knife.”

I hobbled over to stand behind Sévo. The hag and Sétıpímo posed as I left them, Vata’s face raised to the ceiling. Sévo pointed a gun at them. I frowned. Where’d he have that hidden?

Sévo growled, “If you don’t drop the knife, I will shoot you.”

Vata looked down at us, mouth hanging open slightly.

Gentler, but still threatening, the flannel guy said, “So please, drop the knife.”

Blood stained the detective’s collar, a spreading splotch bigger than the knot of his tie. Vata’s jaw closed tight, her eyes narrowed, piercing all three of us in the doorway. She was going to do it. She was going to kill the cop. And Sévo would shoot her.

The knife tumbled down, sparkling with firelight, landing discreetly on the dirt. Sétıpímo fell forwards, grabbing his throat.