Eric had found an old Bluetooth earpiece he’d used for his phone a few times when he was out with the cattle birthing calves. He’d muted his phone and placed the earpiece in his ear.
He could hear the rustling of Tyson’s shirt, but he could hear the conversations well enough.
The one thing he’d learned in the fifteen minutes that Shooter Magee was in the Morgans’ house was that he was an asshole.
From the way the man replied when introduced to the crude whistle he gave when Lydia walked into the room, Eric was sure this was the guy messing up his life.
“Why don’t you call Douglas and tell him to head over this way. I don’t like this guy. He gives me bad vibes,” Eric said and Bethany nodded.
He continued to listen as she called. The moment Susan walked into the room a chill zipped up Eric’s spine.
“You’re keeping the hotties locked up in this place ain’t ya?” Shooter said and his grandfather shushed him.
Eric didn’t hear Susan’s voice, but he was sure she was gritting her teeth at the comment.
The talk was boring. Elias and Dwight Peterson bantered about oil. His father made a few good comments about the placement of the wells, if they were to drill them. Byron’s voice, however, was never heard. Eric wasn’t even sure he’d shown up.
Susan had served up the first plate and Shooter had made some comment about how nasty lettuce was. Still, he never heard Susan’s voice, she was simply doing her job, he thought.
It hadn’t been but five minutes when he heard a car pull up in front of his house. A moment later Douglas walked in.
“What, were you close by?” Eric snapped covering the earpiece.
“Maybe I was.” He scanned a look over Bethany and she turned to look the other way. “So what’s going on?”
“Peterson and Magee are at the Morgans’. Tyson has his phone on so I can listen.”
“That doesn’t sound legal to me. Does it to you?”
“It sounds like I’m being safe,” Eric said as he heard the doorbell at the Morgans’. He held a hand up so he could hear clearer.