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"AND WE WERE RIGHT OUTSIDE LIKE THIS," JJ EXPLAINED TO THE GROUP. He backed up against the wall, showing them what position he and John B were in when they visited Lana Grubbs's house. "And all we hear is just, 'Bam! Bam! Bam!' Knocking paint off the wall, G! From the inside. All right? And I'm just looking at him, like — Wait, first off, look at this shit."
The Routledge and Maybank boys had gone to the Grubbs residence earlier that morning to ask Lana some questions about Big John's compass and why Scooter had it in his boat when he died. So, now, they were all on the porch of the Chateau.
JJ walked over to where Pope, Kie, and Bree were sitting, bent over, and began rubbing his hair so that white pieces of paint fell out. The Callaway girl slid her seat back so that none of it landed on her as Kie gave him a disgusted look. "That's dandruff, disgusting."
"Okay, thank you," Pope told him, pushing his head away from them.
"Look at al that, all right?" the blonde boy pointed out, gesturing to all the flakes on the ground in front of him. "That's paint. At that point, I was just, like...I'm waiting for death."
Rolling his eyes at JJ's antics, Pope asked him, "So you saw the guys that shot at us, right? Did you get a good description of them? What did they look like. Anything we can bring to, like, a police report maybe?"
"Yeah, anything," Bree agreed.
Kie nodded. "Yeah."
"Burly," was all JJ replied with, and the rest of them stared back at him in disbelief. Of course that was what he said to describe them.
Pope repeated in a questioning voice, "Burly?"
"Really, JJ?" the brunette quizzed as she ran a hand through her hair. "'Burly' was all you could come up with? Nothing more useful?"
"Yeah, that's not very helpful," the Carerra girl added with a sigh, looking from Bree to JJ before leaning her elbows on her knees.
"Okay, well, no. Like, the type of guy at my dad's garage," the blonde boy explained, which still, was not very helpful. "I mean, you guys know he made cargo hides for drug smugglers."
