A shadow passed over the hole. He looked up and saw Jasmine. She was the only one who was innocent. She was the only one he could love. He wouldn't let anyone hurt her, ever, as long as he lived.
"I saw you kill that dog," Jasmine said. "I hate your guts." She went back to the house.
Jimmy kept digging. He dug until his hands blistered, and then until the blisters opened. The hole still wasn't deep enough.
VICTIM NUMBER SEVEN
For the first seven weeks, Blackburn's job in the Automotive Department of Oklahoma Discount City went well enough. He unpacked cardboard cases of parts, stocked shelves, and helped customers find things. His boss wouldn't let him run the cash register, but that was fine with him. It was too much responsibility. He preferred work that allowed him to think about other things, and to go home and watch TV when he was finished. There wasn't much else to do in Oklahoma City, but he'd had enough partying for a while anyway. Austin had worn him out.
Blackburn's TV was a twelve-inch black-and-white that he'd bought with his first paycheck. The folks over in the Electronics Department had given him a few dollars off because he was an employee. He thought that was a pretty fair deal. In fact, he thought Oklahoma Discount City in general was a pretty fair deal. Then his boss retired, and the store hired a man named Leo to manage the Automotive Department.
Leo didn't like Blackburn. For one thing, he thought Blackburn's hair was too long, and called him a hippie. Blackburn replied that he couldn't be a hippie, because it was 1978 and all the hippies had been declared dead in 1967. Leo grimaced and spat on the floor of the stockroom. Leo was about fifty, and he wore a black toupee. He had lines around his eyes, and liver-colored lips. He looked pissed off all the time, and he sneered at any customer who paid using a lot of pennies.
It was because of Leo that Blackburn lost his job. Leo had only been the department manager for a week and a half when he accused Blackburn of stealing a case of Quaker State 10W-30 Multi-Viscosity Motor Oil.
"I'm sorry, sir," Blackburn told him in the stockroom. It was early on Thursday morning. Leo had just accused him. They were the only ones there. "I didn't steal any Quaker State. I didn't steal anything."
Leo's face twitched. "I saw you take it out of the store last night," he said. "Then I stayed late to count the sales slips, and I came in early this morning and did it again. It's short. You're a goddamn liar and a thief."
Blackburn became irritated. He was a lot of things, but a liar was not one of them. He took a breath and closed his eyes. There was no point in getting upset. All he had to do was tell the truth. Then he could get to work and think about other things.
He opened his eyes. "May I explain, please?"
Leo's eyebrows rose. They were thin and gray. They were how Blackburn knew that Leo wore a toupee. The toupee was thick and black.
"May you?" Leo said, mocking. "May you? Listen, punk, you can 'explain' by paying for that case of oil and then getting your ass out of here before I call the cops."
"That hardly seems fair."
"I could care less," Leo said.
"Couldn't."
"Huh?"
"Couldn't. Saying that you could care less means that you actually do care. Saying that you couldn't care less means that you don't really give a shit."
Leo sneered. "Listen to the college boy. You sound like my wife. Thinks she's Albert fuckin' Einstein 'cause she had a year of juco. Maybe I should straighten you out like I do her." Leo raised his right hand in a fist.
"Your wife's name is Lorraine, isn't it?" Blackburn asked.
"How'd you know that?" Leo's voice was low.
"I heard you talking to her on the phone."
Leo shook his head. His toupee moved. "A liar, a thief, and an eavesdropper. Pay for the oil and get out."
"But I was carrying the oil for a customer, sir."
"Bullshit. You didn't ring it up-"
"I'm not allowed to use the register."
"-and nobody paid no money for it. You're lucky I didn't just call the cops right off the bat. This way I'm giving you a chance to get out with your ass intact."
Blackburn became more irritated. "There wasn't any money because it wasn't a cash transaction," he said. "I gave him credit."
"What?" Leo's Adam's apple bobbed. "Who? On what card?"
Blackburn stepped closer to Leo. He could smell stale cigarette smoke. "I'm getting upset, sir," he said. "You have to let me explain."
Leo bared his teeth. They were gray stumps. "So explain. Explain all you damn well please."
"A man came in last night needing oil," Blackburn said. "He had to change the oil in his truck so he could drive to Oregon to take care of his dying aunt. He needed at least five quarts for the change, and his truck bums a lot, so there's no telling how much he might need for the drive. We figured a case would do it for sure, so that's what I sold him. He gave me an IOU." Blackburn took the folded slip from his shirt pocket. Red stitching above his pocket said OK-DARREL. Darrel was the name he had given the store when he'd hired on. A man in a bar had sold him a birth certificate and Social Security card with that name.
Leo took the IOU slip and opened it. Then he crumpled it and threw it on the floor. He spit after it. "It's a goddamn worthless scrap," he said. "Can't even read the goddamn writing."
Blackburn squatted to pick it up. "He promised he'll send the money from Oregon as soon as he gets a job."
Leo put his foot on Blackburn's shoulder and pushed. Blackburn fell back on his rump. He sat on the floor and looked up at Leo.
"Christ Almighty Jesus God," Leo said. "I suppose you'd believe it if I told you I needed a free case of oil for my health, huh?" He started toward the swinging doors to the retail area. "Get out. I'll mail your last check, minus the price of a case of oil. Won't leave much." He glanced back. "Go on. I'm sick of looking at you."
Blackburn stood up. "I'm sorry to hear about your health, sir," he said.
"Huh?"
Blackburn lunged forward and grabbed Leo around the waist. He squeezed hard. Leo tried to yell, but it came out as a wheeze. Blackburn wasn't any bigger than Leo, but his arms were strong. He had been lifting cases of automotive equipment for eight and a half weeks. He lifted Leo and carried him across the stockroom to where the cases of oil were stacked. Leo pounded at Blackburn's head and back, but he couldn't pound hard. He couldn't breathe.
Blackburn dropped him and ripped open a case of Quaker State 10W-30. He removed a quart and punched two holes in the top of the can with his pocketknife. He had bought the pocketknife over in the Sporting Goods Department. The folks there had given him a few dollars off.
Leo was on the floor. His face was purplish. His mouth was open, gasping. He seemed almost able to move again when Blackburn squatted and poured the amber stream into his mouth. Leo choked and turned his head to spit it out. Blackburn clamped a hand over Leo's mouth and turned his face upward again.
"Swallow," Blackburn said.
Leo's face was changing colors. It went from purplish to a pale shade like dough, and then to a strange, veiled blue, like veins under skin.
"Swallow," Blackburn said again.
Leo swallowed, and Blackburn gave him more.
"Goood boy," Blackburn said. "Make-ums alll better."
Leo threw up after the first quart and lay in the puddle, his arms and legs working feebly. Blackburn stood up and poked around the stockroom for an oil can spout. He had spilled too much pouring free.
He found a spout and came back to Leo, who was crawling toward the swinging doors. Blackburn turned him onto his back again, sat on him, and plunged the spout into another quart. He put the spout to Leo's lips, but found that Leo's teeth were clamped together.