Upon returning to the house, Kimmie had to literally drag her dogs away from the Chief before Ollie could climb back inside. Fortunately, she didn’t ask why they were so interested in his truck. He pulled out of the driveway and drove back down the gravel road. Once he was on the paved main road leading back to town Grika flipped the tarp back and sat up.
“Find anything?”
Ollie shook his head. “Nothing substantial. Going hunting tonight, though.”
Grika grunted and crossed his arms. “I assume you’ll need me for that?”
“If you want to start earning your keep again.”
They drove in silence for a while. Eventually, Grika laid back on his bungie web with a grunt. “She has dogs.”
Ollie glanced over at the pygmy. “Yep.”
“Big dogs.”
Ollie nodded. “Very big.”
“I hate dogs.”
Ollie grinned. “I know.”
*
The sliding glass doors opened and Ollie exited Shafer’s Hardware store in Eureka, a small bag of tools in hand. He’d left New Orleans in a hurry and most of his good stuff was still there. He needed to do a little restocking if he wanted to make any serious attempt at catching goblins.
He slowed at the sight of a tall, burly man in hunter’s fatigues leaning on the front of the Chief. He had fading, slicked-back brown hair and a thick, curly beard underneath a pair of orange-tinted sunglasses. The man turned away from ogling two women walking across the neighboring grocery store parking lot and gave Ollie a knowing grin.
“Like open season out here, eh?”
“Bobo.” Ollie forced a smile. “Haven’t seen you in a while.”
Ollie walked around to the driver’s side. Bobo followed him, shoving his hands in his pockets.
“Tuscaloosa, man. Two years ago. Sunday night at the Mary Mamasita biker bar. Never gonna forget that, brother.” Bobo shook his head wistfully. “Eight beers, four shots of tequila, and a dozen pissed-off gang members chasing you down the street almost to the Gulf of Mexico. What did they call themselves? The Red Reapers?” He chuckled. “Man, I don’t think I’ve laughed that hard since.”
Ollie winced at the memory. “Yeah. Rookie mistake wearing those new boots.” He opened the rear door and tossed the bag into the back seat, to keep Bobo from seeing the elaborate floorboard nest in the front. Plenty of hunters had heard rumors of the Hauk family goblin, but he didn’t need anyone confirming them.
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“Good times. You still doing the solo thing?”
He nodded. “Yep.”
Bobo leaned on the hood of the Chief. “Heard from Jed?”
Ollie shook his head. “Not for a while.”
Bobo sniffed. “That’s a shame. Jed’s a good man. Gotta be rough, everything that’s happened to him. And to you, man.”
Ollie nodded but kept his mouth shut, hoping Bobo took the hint. Bobo’s incessant stream of beer-buddy small talk, or his over-the-top hunting stories could wear a man down fast. Although, truth be told, he felt better knowing at least one other professional hunter was in the area. And Bobo was one of the few people in his line of work Ollie didn’t hate.
“You know, you’re the sixth hunter I’ve seen out here lately,” Bobo said, as if reading Ollie’s mind. “Caught sight of Ellie Wicks walking out of this same store about a month ago. And had a beer with Timmy and Jimmy Rodriguez the very next night. Although they’ve been MIA a few weeks now. I’m getting a little worried about those two, if I’m being honest.” He pulled at his beard. “Also, there’s a pretty slick trapper out here somewhere. I’ve seen some crazy rigging out there in the woods, but I don’t know whose it is. Not yours, is it?”
“Nope.” Ollie rested his hand on the handle of the driver’s side door. Another hint Bobo probably wouldn’t take. “I got in this morning.”
“That’s it? Boy, you’re about two months behind. This place is crawling with CM.”
CM stood for colander mischief, the phrase hunters used in public to avoid saying the words goblin hunting. “You already cleaned the place out?”
Bobo shook his head. “Not yet. It’ll happen, though. And I’m gonna bag something big while I’m at it. You seen any of the pictures of those people out in the woods? Body parts scattered a dozen yards apart? You know what that is.”
Ollie turned to watch the traffic passing by on the 101. “I know what it might be.”
“Well, whatever it is, I’m about to have a new trophy head hanging over my fireplace.”
Ollie looked back at Bobo in disbelief. “You hang them over your fireplace?”
“No! No, no, no. I’m not as dumb as I look.” A wicked smile crept across Bobo’s face. “I do the next best thing. I make a plaster cast of the head before I get rid of it. Got a whole basement full of goblin busts. A museum dedicated to my hunting legacy. But if anyone asks, I just enjoy really ugly art.”
“That’s…” Ollie tried to think of an appropriate response, “cool.”
“Welcome to the club, right?” Bobo beamed. “That reminds me, there’s some hunter north of here named Stanley… something, I forget his last name. Over in Eugene. I was chatting with him and he asked me about your dad. He’s like half hunter, half broker, selling gobbie parts and powders, so he’s a little shady, but I got the impression he’s got some stuff for your old man.”
“He’s got friends everywhere.” Ollie looked around, eager to escape this conversation. “Hey, I’m on my way somewhere but let’s grab a beer sometime, okay?”
“Anytime, bro.” Bobo threw his hand out and they shook. “And if you need something while you’re out here, or you want someone watching your back on a hunt, come find me. Econo Lodge over on 4th Street. Room 213. I keep a case of Miller handy at all times.”
“Sounds like fun. Stay safe, Bobo.”
“Naaahhh. That’s for people with real jobs.” Bobo smiled and walked off. Ollie climbed into the Chief and shut the door, watching Bobo leave in his side view mirror. Grika pulled the tarp back enough to poke an eye out.
“He’s gone?”
Ollie nodded. “Did he see you?”
“I stayed under the tarp the whole time.”
“Good.” Ollie started the engine and put on his seat belt. “No need for anyone to know I brought you with me.”
“There’s something we can agree on.” Grika pulled the tarp back over. “I can barely stand putting up with you. If I got stuck with him, I might have to throw myself right into a trow’s belly.”
Ollie chuckled. “Hey, the night’s still young.”
He pulled the tarp back and peered out. “You could introduce me to the girl, though. She sounds fun.”
“Seriously?”
Grika shrugged. “I get tired just talking to you. Even you should know that.”
Ollie thought about that for a second. “How about I introduce you to her dogs?”
Grika glared at Ollie, who drove out of the parking lot with an impish smile.