by Jason Miller
I said, “That’s the way it is, let’s stop talking and start punching.”
Little Bandit came down the stairs. He came down like a locomotive. Anci leapt out of the way and hugged the wall. The chickens clucked in alarm. Somewhere, a bolt of lightning knocked a bald eagle out of the sky.
For a big man, Little Bandit was surprisingly fast. He came in low and grabbed me around the waist and tossed me backward hard and to the ground. I rolled out of the way of the aforementioned foot-in-ass and sprang upright just as one of those giant paws of his cut the air mere inches from my head. I rolled left, stopped, and pivoted back into him with the full force of my elbow, but I might as well have been trying to knock down a schoolhouse. He grinned and thumbed a loop of blood from the end of his nose and came in again, circling right this time. I circled left, put my right foot back, and assumed the fighting stance. Then we stopped, the both of us.
Anci had stepped between us with her phone to her ear.
Little Bandit said, “Little miss, please.”
I said, “Darlin’, get out of the way.”
Anci ignored us. She was making a call.
Little Bandit looked at me. He said, “She’s calling the cops. I told you what’ll happen.”
Anci shook her head. She said, “Not the cops. Animal Control and the Illinois Department of Public Health.”
“Come again?”
“You got yourself a mess of exotic animals stored down here in your basement without any of the proper permits, inspection stamps, or immunization records.”
Little Bandit looked at me, confused.
“What the hell she talking about, Slim?”
“She’s talking about these just aren’t regular yardbirds. You can’t just keep them in your private residence like this without the proper paperwork and an inspector’s okay.”
Anci looked up. “Time the IDPH and the Animal Control people climb out of your asshole, you’ll wish I’d just called the cops. You’ll wish I’d called the cops, SWAT, and the dang Avengers.”
Little Bandit took a step back. He raised his hands and opened his palms and showed us his lifeline. “Okay, okay. I don’t want any truck with any of that.”
Anci said, “That’s assuming they crawl out of your asshole in the first place. They might want to quarantine your entire property, keep you under observation for a week or two. Maybe longer. Maybe a lot longer. Never know what kind of germs these birds are carrying around. You heard about this business in China? It’s horrible.”
Little Bandit had started to sweat now. His upper lip winked at us from across the room. He said, “I’m sure Foghat had all that looked after.”
“Foghat? The guy who’s divorced the same woman three times? The guy who made you sweat and dance and work for your lousy vig? The guy who had to sell his truck to pay you off? That Foghat?”
Little Bandit was practically quaking now. His eyes went this way and that. His tongue came out of his mouth with a dry sound.
Anci said into her phone, “Oh, hey, Janet. It’s me, Anci . . .”
Little Bandit looked at me. He croaked, “She knows the Department of Health people?”
“Oh, Anci knows everybody.”
Little Bandit lurched forward and snatched the phone from Anci’s hand. He said, “Sorry, Janet,” into the mic and used his big thumb to cancel the call. He handed Anci back the cell with an apologetic face.
“Guess what?”
“Chicken butt.”
He ignored Anci. “Guess what? I’ve changed my mind about this whole thing. Got an idea. Why don’t y’all take those birds and move on along? Right now. This instant. Hell, I’ll even help you load them up, you give me a minute to tie something over my mouth.”
Anci thought about it a little. She appeared dubious at first, but then she warmed some to the idea. Finally, she nodded seriously and said, “Well . . . okay. I guess that’s okay. I was you, I’d still see a doctor, though, quick as you can.”
“Thanks. I will. Frankly, though, I just want them and their germs out of here. And you. Both of you. No offense.”
“None taken,” she said. She smiled suddenly. “Hey, by the way, that is one hell of a damn kitchen you got up there.”
’NOTHER LITTLE WHILE, WE WERE ON OUR WAY BACK north past the Experimental Forest and the long curve of Goose Creek. The light had gone down and the day had gone cool. The chickens were in their cages in the bed of the truck, neatly secured under a new tarp, courtesy of Little Bandit. Anci had phoned Foghat, who was one his way from Olney to meet us, recover his pets.
After a while, I said, “Can’t say I’m precisely happy about what happened back there, but I have to admit, you did good, kiddo.”
“Well, I just figured someone needed to rescue us.”
“I think I could have taken him, darlin’.”
“Uh-huh,” she said. “Hey, why do you keep making that face?”
“What face? What do you mean?”
“Face like you swallowed a mouse. You’re hurting and I can tell. What is it? I didn’t think Little Bandit laid much of a glove on you.”
“He didn’t,” I said. “It’s just . . .”
“Just what?”
I said, “It’s just, while we were loading up the birds, one of them pecked me pretty good on the thumb. Through its cage. Salmon Faverolle, I think it was. Real sassy little bastard.”
Anci stared at me.
I said, “Hey, it hurts.”
Anci stared at me.
“Bled a little, even. Might have to have it cut off maybe. Amputated. You never know. I reckon I should get us to an emergency room.”
Anci stopped staring at me. She shook her head. She reached forward and switched on the radio.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Special thanks are owed to a bunch of folks who helped me see this book through to completion. As ever, much gratitude and love to my agents, Anthony Mattero and Yfat Gendell. Eric Meyers is a dream editor, and his guidance on the manuscript was just invaluable. Thanks also to my friends and early readers Julie Kedzie, Steve Huff, Jeff Zentner, and Keith Buckley. You people are damn good people.
And finally, but mostly and continuously, to Laura.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
JASON MILLER is the author of the Slim in Little Egypt mystery series. A much-followed comic voice on Twitter, Jason (@longwall26) has had tweets featured on national talk shows such as The Ellen DeGeneres Show, and he has been named among the funniest people on Twitter by Playboy, BuzzFeed, and the Chicago Tribune, among others. A RiffTrax contributor, Jason has had his jokes heard in movie theaters throughout the United States and Canada. He lives in Nashville, Tennessee.
Discover great authors, exclusive offers, and more at hc.com.
ADVANCE PRAISE FOR RED DOG
“Red Dog is just the right combination of mystery and cynical humor to captivate the reader until the last page. I can’t wait to read the next one! . . . F*cking fantastic.”
—Julie Kedzie, mixed martial artist
“Red Dog reads like driving a pickup with a lift kit at 80 mph down back roads, while listening to Mitch Hedberg and Steve Earle. Jason Miller’s sentences explode from the page like they were dynamited out of bedrock; his dialogue and plot crackle with the energy of a midwestern thunderstorm.”
—Jeff Zentner, author of The Serpent King
“Jason Miller’s Red Dog is a gritty mystery that pulls the hat trick of being as funny as it is intense. I read it in one sitting and would happily slip back into Slim and his daughter Anci’s world tomorrow.”
—Steve Huff, author of Don’t Go to Jail!: Saul Goodman’s Guide to Keeping the Cuffs Off
“If you’ve ever wondered what happens to a Goonie when they’re old enough to buy alcohol, well, look no further than Slim.”
—Keith Buckley, author of Scale
PRAISE FOR DOWN DON’T BOTHER ME
“Long stretches of this unusual first novel would seem to require guitar accompaniment. The g
enre conventions—treacherous women, double-crossing friends, greedy moneymen—seem fresh in Miller’s sensory-rich language. . . . Here’s a strong talent just getting under way.”
—Booklist
“Fans of FX’s Justified TV series, as well as the show’s Elmore Leonard source material, will welcome the tough-talking Slim and the eccentric cast of characters he meets along the way.”
—Library Journal
“Down Don’t Bother Me marks the emergence of a wildly assured mystery novelist, and of a series set in the fresh and brutal landscape of southern Illinois.”
—New Orleans Public Library
“In his first novel, set in the hardly welcoming world of southern Illinois coal country, he is funny, smart, and extremely self-assured in his writing, creating a book that is almost as addicting as the meth that has taken over Little Egypt, Illinois.”
—Mystery Scene
“Miller brings the reader into the cold Illinois landscape with his vivid imagery.”
—Life Sentence
“Miller’s first novel is raw, gritty, and darkly comedic. The first-person POV is perfect for this telling, and readers will fall for Slim quickly. His relationship with his teenage daughter, Anci, while typical of the teenage years, is refreshingly real. Overall a fantastic debut novel.”
—RT Book Reviews
“While this novel is funny and violent, it also chronicles the soul-sapping meanness and danger of work in the mines.”
—Memphis Commercial Appeal
“Jason Miller has delivered a crime novel with all the satisfactions of the genre, coupled with a serious, resonant subtext and the promise of more adventures to come for his offbeat protagonist.”
—Chapter 16
ALSO BY JASON MILLER
Down Don’t Bother Me
BACK AD
COPYRIGHT
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
RED DOG. Copyright © 2016 by Jason Miller. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
FIRST HARPER PAPERBACK EDITION PUBLISHED 2016
EPub Edition August 2016 ISBN 9780062449078
ISBN 978-0-06-244906-1 (pbk.)
16 17 18 19 20 RRD 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
ABOUT THE PUBLISHER
Australia
HarperCollins Publishers Australia Pty. Ltd.
Level 13, 201 Elizabeth Street
Sydney, NSW 2000, Australia
www.harpercollins.com.au
Canada
HarperCollins Canada
2 Bloor Street East - 20th Floor
Toronto, ON M4W 1A8, Canada
www.harpercollins.ca
New Zealand
HarperCollins Publishers New Zealand
Unit D1, 63 Apollo Drive
Rosedale 0632
Auckland, New Zealand
www.harpercollins.co.nz
United Kingdom
HarperCollins Publishers Ltd.
1 London Bridge Street
London SE1 9GF, UK
www.harpercollins.co.uk
United States
HarperCollins Publishers Inc.
195 Broadway
New York, NY 10007
www.harpercollins.com