"You wanted a rigger-you think you find riggers walking down the goddamn street? Did he talk about himself or not?"

"He hardly opened his mouth."

"So you won't have nothing to tell, will you?"

"Except what I saw. They start asking questions-what if I slip up, say the wrong thing?" He could tell Charlie wanted this over with and was losing his patience.

Charlie saying, "Listen to me. I'm gonna go inside and call nine-eleven. They'll send out sheriff's people and I'll show 'em Floyd. I say I was out there looking for you and tripped over him. A homicide, the sheriff himself's likely to come, get his picture in the Tunica Times making a statement. Floyd won't be worth too much press. Before you know it it's blown over."

"They would've shot me, too," Dennis said, not letting Charlie off the hook, "and you know it. But I'm suppose to act dumb."

"What I heard, it sounded like they were playing with you, having some fun."

"You weren't up there, no place to hide. Charlie, I saw 'em kill a man. I can pick 'em both out of a crowd and they know it."

Charlie was shaking his head, the best he could do.

"Look, I told 'em you're okay, you work for me. I told 'em you and I'll have a talk and there won't be nothing to worry about. Listen," Charlie said, "you go on home. I'll give you my keys and get a ride from somebody after."

"What'd they say?"

"They know I'm good for my word."

"But what'd they say?"

"That you better keep your mouth shut."

"Or what?"

"You want their exact words?" Charlie showing his irritation now. "Or they'd shoot you in the goddamn head. You know that. What're you asking me for?"

"But I'm not suppose to worry about it. Jesus Christ, Charlie."

Now Dennis was looking at the T-shirt in front of him, LET'S SEE YOUR ARM, and got a whiff of cigarette breath as Charlie turned to him, saying in a calmer tone of voice, "I told 'em take it easy, I'd handle it.