“Not for sale,” Buddy sighed with relief. Apparently Big Daddy had not come to kill him. He wiped blood off his face with a bloody bandana. “Not for sale.”

Big Daddy was familiar with this bargaining tactic.

“Okay.” He pulled out his checkbook. “But really, how much?”

Buddy was bewildered but Ernest stepped in to help his friend.

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“Really, he won’t sell it,” he told Big Daddy earnestly, “but that’s not really what you want, is it? You just need to solve a problem…”

Big Daddy turned a speculative eye on Ernest. He knew Ernest spoke his language, fluent money, and he recognized a devious intelligence not unlike his own.

The two men moved closer to the Caddy to talk while Buddy went back to his butchering.

TO BE CONTINUED…