Tup looked to Hiram for direction. Gert kept her expression blank. Never taking his eyes off her, Hiram said, “You heard her.” Tup pushed open the screen door and went out, calling to someone unseen to come help him.
“How come you’re cuttin’ back?” Hiram asked.
Gert took a slow look around the room, as though taking inventory of the assembled relatives. They all appeared indolent and uninterested, but she knew better. They all had the trademark big ears, but not necessarily in the physical sense.
Hiram, grasping that she wanted to talk to him privately, flipped his hand at the room at large. “Git.”
His offspring began to scatter, some going outside, others disappearing into other rooms. A teenaged girl helped the old woman out of her chair and supported her as she hobbled out.
Watching her leave, Gert said, “I thought she’d’ve died by now. You, too. And why don’t you spare us all that stink and cut that damn foot off?”
Ignoring that, Hiram repeated his question about her order.
Gert seated herself in one of the vacated chairs. “While your boys have been keeping the roads hot between your stills and the oil patches, small-timers have been taking up the slack locally. You’re losing ground, Hiram. You’re being undercut.”
“Nobody would dare.”
“Fine. Don’t believe me. But Lefty struck a deal today. I’s sittin’ right there when they shook on it. More hooch for a lot cheaper than you charge us.”
“Rotgut.”
“Nope. Good stuff.”
“Labeled liquor?”
Gert shook her head. “’Shine.”
“Whose?”
“I’ll get to that. Let’s talk about Wally.”
He slapped his palm onto the open Bible in his lap. “God as my witness—”
“Which he ain’t.”
“—we’re gonna get the sumbitch what killed Wally.”
Gert crossed her arms over her massive chest. “You made any headway in that direction?”
“We’ll get him.”
“That means you got no idea who done it.”
Temper sparked, Hiram leaned forward, nearly tipping over his spit can. “If you know something, you’d better tell me, or being my second cousin thrice removed won’t mean shit. Kinship won’t save your fat ass from being flayed.”
She huffed an exhale. “The night before Wally was murdered, he tore into one of my girls.” No doubt Hiram had heard about it because he didn’t dispute or defend it. “She weren’t much count as a whore, but she was handy helping Lefty on the grill and serving drinks in the back room, so I kept her on.”
“You’re sayin’ was. She die after all?”
“No. The ungrateful hussy run off last night, still owing me money for her upkeep. Slipped off during the raid. Today, I learned she’s been took in.”
“By who?”
“By the moonshiner who persuaded Lefty to squeeze you out of ten jugs per order.” She leaned forward and tapped her temple. “I put two and two together. One bullet was fired into Wally’s head for stealing that truckload of sugar and causing a shortage. The second bullet was payback for whippin’ up on that whore.”
Hiram picked up the Bible and brandished it. “He’s dead meat.”
Gert’s smiles were as infrequent as blood moons. She gave Hiram Johnson a smug one now. “Ain’t no he.”