Page 19 of Bone’s Choice
The truck rolled another few feet.
“Good!” Taco slapped the side twice.
The truck stopped and I looked back at Munch. “Finish this.”
“On it.”
“Dealer, check the other two,” I ordered.
Dealer nodded from beside the next coffin.
I walked toward the truck as the driver’s door opened and Jackson climbed down.
“Hey, Jackson.”
He looked over. “Bone.”
I held out my hand. He clasped it, and we pulled each other in for a quick slap on the back. “How’s it going?”
“Can’t complain.”
“That’d be a fucking first,” Taco called.
Jackson flipped him off. “Nobody asked you.”
Taco pressed a hand to his chest. “And yet I still contribute.”
“That’s one word for it,” Dealer muttered.
Jackson laughed.
He’d been driving for us for years.
Not patched. Not a prospect. Just a guy who knew enough to do his job and not ask questions he didn’t need answers to. He handled legitimate Grave Casket loads along with some of the special ones.
Jackson knew there were things about certain shipments he didn’t need to understand. He got paid well for that lack of curiosity.
“How was Milwaukee?” I asked.
“Traffic sucked.”
“Always does.”
“Loading dock was backed up too. Took me damn near an hour to get out.”
“Anything we need to know about?”
“Nah.” He hooked his thumbs into his pockets. “Got your paperwork up front. Three going out.”
“That’s right.”
“And one coming back.”
I stopped. “Coming back?”
Jackson nodded. “Yeah.”
My eyes moved to Myth.
