“You lost her?” Aulden said.
“She lost her,” said Lewis, glaring at Arlene.
They stood at the yard edge in the dark and cold.
“Hadn’t you better call the police?” Aulden said.
“Asshole sheriff’d probably just call you for your dog.”
Aulden’s redbone, Ms. Rose, whined at Aulden’s feet.
“I don’t know about this,” Aulden said.
“I know. I’ll pay you.”
“With what? Dirt?”
“What you want?”
“Don’t want anything.”
“Bullshit. We all want something. Name it.”
“Help building a new ice fishing shanty. A six-holer.”
“I can swing that.”
“You pay for the wood.”
“Wood and labor?”
The screen door swung open.
The two men looked up.
Arlene stood in the doorway, Coke bottle held by a pinkie finger shoved down the neck. No more beer. Never ever ever.
The girl’s likely froze to death, Arlene thought, and Lewis’s acting the ass. She finished her Coke and tossed the bottle into the woods.
“Wood and labor,” Aulden said.
“Christ. Fine.”
“You got anything with her scent on it?” Aulden said.
Lewis yanked something from his pocket, slapped it in Aulden’s hand.
“Got anything else?” Aulden said.
“It doesn’t get any more scent than that.”
Aulden put the soiled panties to Ms. Rose’s nose. “Find her.” His nose wrinkled at the foulness of it all.