Cold in July Page #3

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but if he's messing around

with these boys

in the Dixie Mafia,

they some bad dudes.

How far do you want

to take this, Ben?

If he's alive,

I want to see him.

- All right.

Well, I got some hunches

on that.

I want to feel them out first.

But first thing,

we got to relocate.

If Price is as slick

as his mustache,

we got to get the old hoes here

out of the county.

- What do I do?

For now, just go home,

you know, act dumb.

Let me do some legwork,

and when I get Russel

settled somewhere,

I'll-I'll give you a call.

Hey, thanks.

Thanks.

Over here.

Wanted to buy you a drink,

partner,

for bringing Holly back

in one piece.

Yeah.

Last time,

he blacked her eye.

Someday,

someone's gonna settle...

- I'd like to do it myself.

At one time,

a Singapore Sling

would have been

the only answer.

Let's all go

to the lobby

Let's all go to the lobby

Let's all go to the lobby

To get ourselves a drink

What?

No, no, no, no.

Say that again.

You broke up.

I-I can't-

No, I'm-

I'm catching every third word.

Say it again.

- Here you go.

Chocolate bars

and the candy

So let's all go

to the lobby

- All right, thanks.

- What'd you find out?

Well,

I made a bunch of calls.

I got this gal

I used to run with.

She works in the office

of the FBI.

It seems Freddy

is assigned to

the witness relocation program.

You know what that is?

They give people a new start,

new name, new place-

mob informers and sh*t.

Yeah, you got the picture,

framer.

They're the ones

that set you up.

So over the last couple years,

your son's been running

with the Dixie boys,

doing whatever Mafia types do.

And the sh*t gets

way over Freddy's head,

and the law

comes down on him hard.

Soto keep from going

to the slammer,

he starts to sing

like a little bird

against his old buddies,

the Dixie boys.

Now, you don't want to f***

with the Dixie Mafia.

And the feds know that,

so they make Freddy a deal.

They'll hide him

if he gives them what they need.

- So they faked it.

- It's beautiful.

If the Dixie Mafia believes

that Freddy is dead, well...

What's the use of gunning

for a dead guy, right?

Good plan,

don't you think?

- Then who's in that grave?

- Yeah, and where's my son?

- Well, that's a good one.

Oh!

That would be for me.

These things are amazing.

You seen these?

Ah, f***, you've been

in prison forever.

Jim Bob.

You're breaking up.

Hold on.

Okay, that's better.

Go ahead.

You should really

be scared...

I need another beer.

Well, if it ain't

Josey Wales.

Hey, kill any banditos lately,

cowboy?

Jack, you're drunk.

Leave me alone.

- Ah, let me buy you a drink.

And you can tell me

about how you-

I don't want your drink,

Jack,

and I don't want your company.

Let me tell you something,

Mr. Dane-

Ahh!

Oh, God!

- Hurts, doesn't it?

Hey.

Hey. Let him go.

It's not a good idea.

You didn't have to do that.

Well, I didn't want to see you

damage the fella.

Can we get three beers?

- In Washington,

it has been established that

persons who have recently died

have been returning to life

and committing acts of murder.

Widespread investigation

of morgues and funeral homes...

Hess, if you want to see

your boy,

we got to move.

You can stay at my place.

- Human victims...

- Y'all are leaving?

This whole operation's

being run

out of the Houston office.

That's my hood.

Freddy will be close by.

- Behind locked doors...

- I'm going with you.

That situation

has now changed,

and we're able to report

a definite...

- I still don't know who I shot.

- Civil defense machinery

has been organized

to provide rescue stations

with food, shelter...

I have to tell my wife

something.

And protection

by armed National Guardsmen.

- I don't know.

Seems kind of sudden,

doesn't it?

Well, this is a good

opportunity for the shop.

- Uh, have you been drinking?

Yeah, I stopped

and had a couple.

I'm celebrating.

If I get this contract,

well, it'd be big.

You're serious about this,

aren't you?

Mm-hmm.

Well, how long

will you be gone for?

Just a couple days,

no more than a week, I figure.

- I don't know.

I don't like the idea

of you going to Houston

and leaving me and Jordan

all alone.

- Well, they got him, Ann.

- Don't make me sound girly.

- Well, don't act girly.

- Don't tease me, Richard.

- Well, you should be happy.

I've been waiting

for something big like this.

Well, will it stop you

from moping around the house?

Maybe we can go

on a vacation after,

someplace cool?

It's been a while

since we've been away.

- Yeah.

We could drop Jordan

at your mom's

and have us a little adult time.

- Mm?

You want to do it, Sparky?

You haven't called me that

since high school.

- Mm.

- You are drunk.

- Drunk and randy-

I thought

that's how you like me.

- Let's get us some java.

I could raise my game

So I practiced

and I practiced

But I still bowl the same

I got

the bowling ball blues

When you said

he was a pig farmer,

I thought you were kidding.

- Morning, boys.

Come on in,

and I'll make you some bacon.

The DMV issued

162 new driver's licenses

to males in Freddy's age range.

Out of that stack,

93 of them poor bastards

is married.

So of the single dudes,

47 of 'em is Caucasian,

and a whole of 28

around 6 feet tall.

Well, any of 'em

got blue eyes?

- Grand total of two.

Well, what about them?

Why don't we start with them?

- Already did.

Well, at least the first one.

- And?

- That sorry son of a b*tch

still lives

with his parents.

But the other one-

this one right here-

one Frank C. Miller,

blond, blue-eyed,

6 feet and change,

the same Mr. Miller

who just ordered cable

and a phone line

at his new house

outside of Houston.

And previous address unknown.

That's not bad

for a pig farmer.

Well,

when I crack this case,

I might just let you

frame the headlines, framer.

Best way to find out for sure-

call him.

No, I want to take a look

at him first.

Come on,

you cranky old bastard.

Just call him up.

- I ain't calling him.

- That's the house right there.

That's not the color

I pictured.

Well, we're not even sure

it's him yet, are we?

No better time

than the present.

You make it sound like

it's some kind of showdown.

- Well, in a way, it is.

I have to make-

- Watch out!

- Ah! Sh*t!

- Damn!

- What the f***?

Jesus!

What in the dog sh*t

is wrong with you?

Don't you have any mirrors

on this damn Pinto?

Do you know how to use them?

Who's gonna pay for-

we could split it.

- Ah!

Oh!

- You-ah!

- Hey!

You want some of this?

Huh?

- That's for my car.

And that's for my hat.

Ben, check him.

God damn.

Tore my f***ing head off.

It ain't Frankie Miller,

is it'?

- No, smart-ass.

- Huh

Good thing he wasn't in

an OK Corral mood.

Goddamn piece of sh*t Pinto!

- What's that?

- Home movies, looks like.

- Shut up!

Ah, he's moving.

- "Batting Practice"?

- Let's get a look at his swing.

Take that gun and shoot

that f***ing dog, will you?

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