“Rich folk like Brad Dowd?”
     “Who?”
     “White-haired fellow, mid-forties, drives all kinds chanel outlet of fancy cars.”
     “Oh, yeah, him,” said Bondurant. “Guns those things too damn fast comingdown the mountain. Exactly what I mean. Wearing those Hawaiian shirts.”
     “He here often?”
     “Once in a while. All I see is the damn cars speeding by. Lots of ragtops,that’s how I know about the shirts.”
     “He ever stop to chanel bags outlet talk?”
     “You didn’t hear me?” said Bondurant. “He speeds by.” A gnarled hand slashedthe air.
     “How often is once in a while?” said Milo.
     Bondurant half turned. His hawk-nose aimed at us. “You want a count?”
     “If you’ve got charts and graphs, I’ll take them, Mr. Bondurant.”
     The old man completed the turn. “He’s the chanel bags one who killed her?”
     “Don’t know.”
     “But you’re thinking he could be.”
     Milo said nothing.
     Bondurant said, “You’re a quiet guy, except when you want something from me.Let me tell you, government never did much for the Bondurant family. We hadproblems, no help from the government.”
     “What kind of problems?”
     “Coyote problems, gopher problems, draught problems, louis vuitton handbags prowling hippieproblems. Damned mourning cloak butterfly problems—I say ‘butterfly,’ you thinkcute ’cause you’re a city boy. I think problem. One summer they swarmed us,laid their eggs in the trees, destroyed half a dozen elms, nearly polished offa sixty-foot weeping willow. Know what we did? We DDT’ed ’em.”
     He folded his arms chanel bags across his chest. “That ain’t legal. You ask thegovernment can I DDT, nope, against the law. You say what should I do toprotect my elm trees, they say figure something out.”
     “Butterfly homicide’s not my thing,” said Milo.