Alafair Tucker 01 - The Old Buzzard Had It Coming

you had the chance?”
    “I couldn’t leave John Lee,” Phoebe told her, surprised that she would suggest such a thing.
    Alafair’s eyebrows shot up. “No, of course not,” she conceded. “So, anyway, you hollered, and John Lee sat up and pulled out the pistol. Is that when he shot at his dad?”
    “He yelled at him to leave me alone,” Phoebe told her. “But Mr. Day kind of staggered up to his feet and lunged at John Lee on the ground there. He looked like he meant to kill John Lee, with his fists all balled up and his face screwed up real mean. I think John Lee was still kind of woozy. It was my fault that he fired, Ma. I thought his dad would murder him, so I yelled at him to fire.”
    “ You yelled at him to fire?”
    “Yes, Ma. I thought it was kill or be killed. I was scared witless.”
    “And John Lee fired.”
    “He did. Mr. Day stopped in his tracks, I guarantee. He reeled a bit, and I thought he was hit. But he just stood there for a second, surprised, I guess. I reckon he suddenly thought better of whacking on John Lee. After a half a minute, he just sort of reeled off toward the barn.”
    “And then what did you kids do?”
    “I helped John Lee up and we ran off back that way, further into the woods and down to the creek bank, until we figured it was safe. Then we made our way to the road and John Lee walked me home. He told me that when his pa was so drunk, he didn’t even remember what he had done, so after I got my wits back and calmed down, I wasn’t too worried that Mr. Day would still be after him.”
    “But you didn’t see John Lee throw down the pistol?”
    “No, I didn’t even think about it. But now that I look back, I know he didn’t have it in his hands when he helped me get up.”
    “Let’s start looking for it here, then,” Alafair suggested. “And look sharp. That little thing has been lying out there for a week and is surely covered up with ground stuff by now.”
    And the two women looked. They looked for an hour, covering every scrap of ground between the hillock and the property line, and then they covered it again. No leaf lay unturned.
    “But he said he dropped it right after he fired it,” Phoebe protested to no one, close to tears. “It has to be right here!” They had made their way back to the hillock for the second time.
    “It isn’t here,” Alafair stated. “It isn’t here, honey. If John Lee is telling the truth, then somebody has been here and picked it up.”
    The tears that had been welling in Phoebe’s eyes trickled down her cheeks, and she scrubbed at them with the back of her mitten. “That’s what happened, then, Mama,” she assured Alafair. “’Cause John Lee wouldn’t lie.”
    Alafair caught her bottom lip between her teeth thoughtfully. She stepped purposefully into the spot where John Lee was sitting when he shot at his father. “John Lee was right about here when the pistol went off,” she said. She sat down on the ground. “He would have been, what? About like this?” She held her two hands straight out in front of her, aiming a phantom gun.
    Phoebe sniffed and gazed at her mother, interest replacing frustration. She walked to a place behind the hillock. “I was lying on the ground right here,” she said, pointing to her left. “Mr. Day was standing over there. Everything happened pretty fast, but it didn’t look to me like John Lee aimed very carefully. Or maybe he was aiming at his daddy’s knees, because I don’t think he lifted the gun very high before he shot, just shot straight ahead.”
    “Did you hear the bullet hit anything?”
    “Oh, heavens, Mama. I can’t remember. I don’t remember any ricochet or anything like that. What are you getting at?”
    Alafair glanced at Phoebe before peering off into the woods again. “I’m thinking, my girl,” she said, “that if we can’t find the gun, maybe we can find the bullet. At least that would prove that your part of the story is true.”
    Phoebe’s eyes widened. “You ever heard of the needle in the haystack story?” she asked.
    “Don’t be sassy, now,” Alafair replied offhandedly. “Try and remember. You think he aimed right about this way?”
    A thoughtful look passed over Phoebe’s face as she gazed at her mother, trying to superimpose her memory of that evening over what she was seeing at the moment. She moved to where she remembered Mr. Day standing when John Lee fired. “This way, Mama,” she said, and Alafair aimed her imaginary gun at