The car had been parked next to the barn, a little automatic piece of s**t Escort with the keys in the ignition. Luther didn’t know who it belonged to. Some asshole too smashed to know any better. Or maybe they figured no one would mess with it at Rudy Beck’s house. He hoped it was somebody bad-ass. If they blamed Rudy, maybe they’d do something about it. About Rudy. Because if they didn’t, someday Luther was going to have to.
Luther didn’t have a license yet, but he’d been driving around their property since he was tall enough to reach the pedals and see over the steering wheel. Before that, really. He used to sit on Rudy’s lap and steer while Rudy worked the pedals. Once Luther had run them into the ditch and the steering wheel bloodied his nose on impact. Of course, that was nothing to
