Ryan lit up a cigarette, looked at her over the flame. “It was your daddy we wanted to ask, but I guess you could help us out instead.”

“It don’t seem likely somehow,” Fran said. “But go on.”

“Your daddy was meaning to drop off some of the sweet stuff the other night,” Kyle said. “Only, he started thinking about it on the drive down, and that’s never been a good idea where your daddy is concerned. He decided Jesus wanted him to pour out every last drop, and that’s what he did all the way down the mountain. If he weren’t a lucky man, some spark might’ve cotched while he were pouring, but I guess Jesus don’t want to meet him face-to-face just yet.”

“And if that weren’t bad enough,” Ryan said, “when he got to the convenience, Jesus wanted him to get into the van and smash up all Andy’s liquor, too. Time we realized what was going on, there weren’t much left besides two bottles of Kahlua and a six-pack of wine coolers.”

“One of them smashed, too,” Kyle said. “And then he took off afore we could have a word with him.”

“Well, I’m sorry for your troubles, but I don’t see what it has to do with me,” Fran said.

“What it has to do is we conferred some about it. Seems to us your pappy could provide us with entrée to some of the finest homes in the area. I hear summer people like their tipples.”

“So then,” Fran said, “if I have this right, you’re hoping my daddy will make his restitution by becoming your accessory in breaking and entering.”

“Or he could pay poor Andy back in kind,” Ryan said. “With some of that good stuff.”

“He’ll have to run that by Jesus,” Fran said. “I ’spect it’s a better bet than the other, but you might have to wait till he and Jesus have had enough of each other.”

“The thing is,” Ryan said, “I’m not a patient man. And it may be so that your pappy is out of our reach at present moment, but here you are. And I’m guessing you can get us into a house or two.”

“Or you could point us in the direction of your daddy’s private stash,” Kyle said.

“And if I don’t choose to do neither?” Fran asked, crossing her arms.

“Here’s the kicker, so to speak, Fran,” Kyle said. “Ryan has not been in a good mood these last few days. He bit a sheriff’s deputy on the arm last night in a bar. Which is why we weren’t up here sooner.”