Free Where Southern Cross the Dog by Allen Whitley Page B

you know.”
    â€œGot a smoke?” Luke asked.
    Collins drew a cigarette from a pack on the table and handed it to Luke. Montgomery slid some matches across the table.
    â€œNow, you still don’t want an attorney, is that right?” Collins said. “You mentioned that last night, remember?”
    Luke shrugged his shoulders. “Yeah, I guess so. Maybe later.”
    â€œIs that a yes or a no?”
    â€œAsk me again in ten minutes.”
    Collins didn’t think this would take long. They knew most of the details because they had seen the bodies, been to the crime scenes. They needed a confession. Collins started with the basics. “State your name and address, Luke.”
    â€œLuke Williams. I live outside of town, northwest, toward Stovall. No address to speak of.”
    â€œAnd your occupation?”
    â€œYou know what I do. I’m a sharecropper. I’m what you city folks call a peckerwood. But don’t call me that.”
    â€œMarried?”
    â€œYeah.”
    â€œKids?”
    â€œThree.”
    â€œEver killed anyone?”
    Everyone perked up.
    Luke didn’t respond.
    Collins thought he’d catch him off guard.
    Luke continued to puff.
    Collins pushed his notepad across the table to Luke. “Read the top line for me, Luke.”
    â€œI don’t read.”
    â€œAnyone in your family read?”
    â€œNo. The reverend reads. Maybe if I did read, I wouldn’t be farmin’.” Luke pushed the notepad back to Collins.
    â€œWe want to hear,” Collins said, “in your own words, what you know about the murders. Just like you told the deputy last night. Why don’t you start with the first one?”
    â€œAin’t much to tell. I know this guy was walking along the side of the road. Maybe he was hitching a ride, maybe not. Somebody asked him if he needed a ride, and he said sure. So he hopped in, and they drove down the road aways. Stopped after a little while, then they got outta the truck. The hitchhiker waited by the truck while the other one was doing something or other.”
    â€œWhere’d the truck come from?” Montgomery asked.
    â€œBorrowed,” Luke said. “From a neighbor, maybe.”
    â€œThen what?” Collins continued.
    â€œThen the driver walked up behind him and shot him in the head.”
    â€œWhat’d he do with the body?” Collins asked.
    â€œDumped him where you found him, behind the gin out near Mills Road.”
    Collins scribbled some notes while Luke took a drag from his
cigarette.
    â€œWhat about the second one?” Collins said.
    â€œWhich one was that?”
    â€œStabbing.”
    â€œOh, yeah,” Luke said. “Another guy looking for a ride, I heard. The driver and him disagreed about something, and they fought pretty hard. The driver left the guy lying on the ground then grabbed a knife from his truck and went back and stabbed him.”
    Collins looked over at Montgomery in disbelief. “Any witnesses? Someone who drove by maybe?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œHow many times was the victim stabbed?” Collins asked.
    Luke smiled. “Once, that’s all it takes.”
    Collins sat back and pulled out a cigarette for himself. He motioned at Luke for another, and Luke grabbed two.
    â€œAnd number three?” Montgomery said. “Do you know anything about that murder?”
    Everyone waited. Luke paused to recall what he had described the night before. His lips moved, but he didn’t say a word as he used his fingers, which nimbly held the cigarette, to figure which two he had already discussed and which two he hadn’t.
    â€œWe got a shooting and a stabbing, Luke,” Collins said. “Who was next?”
    Luke looked coolly at Collins then finally said, “Drowning.”
    â€œWhat happened?”
    â€œI heard this guy was fishing and a black fella came up and started talking to him and carrying on. He was loud and