| didn’t do.” Well, I sure as hell don’t know what’s going on,” Landrum said. Tom, you need to be careful,” Lightsey said. “I know Deavours has made a statement that you are doing some talking. That means your life is in danger. What you need to do is to go get a two-way radio installed in your car so you can be in touch with people.” Landrum said he couldn’t afford the luxury. “Well, watch out, then,” Lightsey said. “Before this is over there’s gonna be some dead sons-a-bitches.” It’s a damned shame a man like Deavours Nix would try to frame people,” Landrum said. “There ought to be some way to drop him from the group.” The son of a bitch is gonna be dropped by the federal government, along with Bowers,” Lightsey predicted. “Them trying to frame innocent people is what’s gonna do it.” Lightsey repeated that he knew Sessum had participated in the Dahmer killing. “I don’t know who else was in on the job, but I intend to find out before the day is done.” He said he was so disgusted with the White Knights leadership that he would never again go to a statewide meeting and would hesitate before attending another Jones County gathering. The conversation caused Landrum to reflect again on his own commitment. Nix had displayed open hostility toward him for weeks because of the old grievance he had with Landrum’s brother; now Landrum was hearing that Nix had accused him of being |
flinging the jugs of gasoline and firing their weapons. The fusillade pierced the silence of the night. While Pitts crouched behind a brick flower box in front of the Dahmer residence, he watched as a blast from Smith’s shotgun shattered the picture window while Wilson attacked the carport. Sessum, frantic with excitement, thought he heard a retaliatory roar from a shotgun fired inside the house. He ripped the jugs from their sacks, twisted off their caps, and slashed the sides with a pocket knife. He pitched two jugs, spilling gasoline, through the broken window and dashed the contents of the others against the eaves of the house. He had prepared a forked stick with a rag soaked with gasoline, but the shaking of his hands forced him to strike several matches before the device could be lit. When he threw the makeshift torch through the broken window, the room and the face of the house exploded into flames. The four men piled back into Wilson’s car. They could hear shouts of distress from the Dahmer home; they could see that the store was ablaze, too. “We got that bastard burnt out good,” Sessum muttered with satisfaction. As Wilson whipped the car toward the road he veered close to the Ford as it pulled away from the store. Inexplicably, the headlights on the Ford were turned on, and Lightning Smith, riding in Wilson’s Pontiac, panicked. Smith reached for his pistol and began firing at the Ford. What in the goddamn hell |
