Free The Right Side of Wrong by Reavis Wortham

back to Cody’s wintertime ambush. His eyes flicked from shadow to shadow. Finally, he realized his sixth sense hadn’t kicked in, and the hairs on his neck weren’t sticking up.
    It wasn’t a setup. So what was going on?
    â€œLet’s kick around a bit, but y’all keep an eye out.” Ned stepped away from the trod-down grass and walked slowly along the length of the downed tree. The lower limbs on the trees were lobbed off to better clear the space as they assembled the still, but they were piled in a rotting stack in the middle of the clearing.
    The lawmen split up. None of the three knew what they were looking for.
    The surrounding woods were far from silent. Birds called, squirrels chattered in anger at the men’s presence, and a slight breeze soughed through the limbs.
    John finally stopped deeper into the woods, fifty feet from the clearing. “Mr. Ned, you want to take a look here?” They joined him beside a pile of freshly turned dirt. The cleared patch of ground had only a scattering of debris on top. “I believe sumpin’s buried here.”
    His hands in his pockets, Ned studied the disturbed ground. He toed a clod. “Cody, run back there and get the shovels out of the trunk. I got a bad feeling about this pile of dirt.”
    The feeling was well-founded. John and Cody knew they’d find the secret after the first blade full of soft sand proved the soil had been recently dug to a considerable depth. Cody still wasn’t up to full strength and he stopped to rest while John kept digging. Minutes later, he stopped when his shovel encountered something much harder than loam and sand. Cody joined again and digging carefully, they uncovered two decaying bodies lying one atop the other. The stench roiling from the shallow grave drove the two lawmen back.
    On the other hand, Ned had the unusual ability to use the velum, the teardrop-shaped flap in the back his throat, to close off the passages to his nose. He was one of the few people in the county who could block smells with this strange reflex, while breathing through his mouth and keeping his hands free.
    He stepped forward to stare downward into the grave. Holding his breath, John stuck the blade of his shovel into the ground and wiped his face with a white handkerchief. “I swear Mr. Ned, there’s been a terrible lot of killin’ around here these past few months.”
    â€œYeah, and I’m getting a belly full of it. Y’all reckon its Doak Looney planted in this hole? We ain’t seen him for a long while.”
    Cody faced away from the shallow grave and thought about the corpses they’d uncovered. His stomach clenched and he choked down a gag. “Hard to tell, but I imagine we’ll know once they’re out of the ground.” He started back toward the cars. “I’ll go radio this in and get some help out here.”
    â€œI can think of only one reason for this.” John watched Cody disappear into the trees.
    â€œYep, someone got rid of the competition before these boys could start cooking whiskey.”

Chapter Eight
    It didn’t take me and Pepper long before we were at Mr. Bell’s house pretty regular. I’ve always loved building things, but I found out quick that I had a lot to learn.
    He put me to work the first day, finishing his porch. I’d showed up right after breakfast. Mr. Bell was already working, adding a rail around the outside. He had a small lumber-scrap fire going not far from the house, and I could smell the rich pine burning long before I came up in the yard.
    â€œI’m ready to work.”
    He was sawing slow and steady. With one more solid push, he cut through the board and about three inches dropped off. He bent over with the ease of a much younger man, picked up the chunk, and pitched it into the fire.
    He noticed the hammer I’d slipped through my belt. “I can see you are, young man. Grab the other end of this