Roxy sat on the bed gingerly. “They’ll never find us here,” he said. “I bet Joe won’t turn in much dough to the old girl. He’ll keep it for himself.”
Dillon went over to the window and looked out. Roxy watched him cautiously. Roxy was scared of Dillon. The horror of last night was still with him. Sitting there on the bed, he could relive everything he had done. They had found a big gravel dump off the road and had shoved her body into it, pulling the gravel down on top of her. Roxy shivered a little. Maybe they wouldn’t find her for weeks, maybe they’d find her tomorrow.
Dillon said, “Snap out of it!”
Roxy jerked up his head. Dillon had turned and was watching him. “That broad never was no good,” Dillon said. “She had it comin’ for a long time. What could we do with her? If we’d left her, she’d’ve squawked. I know.”
“Sure, sure,” Roxy said hastily, “we’ll forget it.”
Dillon said in a threatening voice, “You’d better.”
Just then Ma Chester put her head round the door. “You can eat now,” she said.
The two men wandered into the other room. The table was covered with a soiled newspaper. Old man Chester was already eating. Dillon looked at him with disgust. The old man glanced up and grunted. Ma Chester said, “Don’t you take any notice of him… he’s deaf.”
Dillon jerked a chair out and sat down. The food was poor and coarse.
Roxy said, “You gotta radio here?”