Cahill

I could hear the din from the bar as I exited my SUV and I was still almost a block away. What a shame! I knew from long experience that would change as soon as my foot crossed the threshold. I tend to have that effect on people. I’m six feet six inches tall and I weigh an even 250 pounds—all of it broad shouldered muscle. My Body Mass Index at my last physical was less than four percent. My light brown hair is styled exactly the way it’s been for the past fifteen years—ever since I first joined the Navy. Sure enough, no sooner had I taken my first step into the bar than the noise died. When I turned left and stepped up to the bar the people there couldn’t back away fast enough. I took a stool in the middle of the empty space and sat down, waiting for the bartender to approach. “I’m not looking for any trouble.” “Good…neither am I. Give me a ginger ale.” He reached under the bar for a glass and some ice. Twenty seconds later he slid the glass in my direction. I pulled a fiver from my pocket and dropped it on the bar. He ignored it and walked away to draw a few beers and pour some wine. It looked to me like this was a pretty cheap crowd. Checking up and down the bar all I could see were longnecks and drafts. I reached into the lower left pocket of my cargo pants. Like almost everything else I was wearing they were a true deep navy blue. My heavy shoes were black as was my wide belt. My belt said as much about me as the bold white lettering across my chest. Just below the American flag over my heart were the letters that were my life—U. S. MARSHAL. On my right hip was my nickel plated .44 Magnum Colt Python, just behind two speed loaders in addition to the twenty-four rounds on the belt. On my left hip was my ASP Talon baton—every bit as deadly a weapon in my hands as the revolver. A pouch at the back of my right hip held my stainless steel handcuffs and its partner on the opposite side held my radio—my link to my backup team. I placed the photo flat on the bar as the bartender returned to me. “I’ll have another,” I said in a loud voice, continuing so I wouldn’t be overheard. “Don’t pick it up and don’t make a production of looking at it. I’ve been told that he comes here a lot. Is he here tonight? If he is and he escapes because you’ve given me away I’ll see to it that you’re arrested for obstruction of justice.” He gulped a few times but did as he was told, nodding slightly in response. I continued almost at a whisper. “If my nose is pointing to twelve o’clock, my right ear to three, the back of my head to six, and my left ear to nine, tell me where he is. Again, don’t point or do anything obvious and we’ll be fine.” He pretended to wipe the bar as he whispered, “About 4:30 with his back to you.” I picked up the reflection in the mirror then asked, “Red shirt with black and white stripes, looking away from me?” He nodded again. Now, in my normal tone of voice I asked, “Where’s the men’s room?”

Fredrick_Udele · Fantasie

Zu wenig Bewertungen

69 Chs

CHAPTER 4

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I slept like the dead—just as I always did—safe in the knowledge that Max would awaken at the slightest disturbance. He'd saved my bacon any number of times in the past. There was nothing but the steady drumbeat of the falling rain on the aluminum roof all night.

The rain continued into the following morning, even after Lucy woke me at 8:30. "Take a shower if you wish, Matt. There's no hurry. I don't have to go in until 11:30. Okay if I put Max out?"

"Sure…Max, go with Lucy. She'll put you out." Max rose and stretched before loping down the hall with Lucy. I walked toward the bathroom then turned around to take a clean pair of boxers and a clean tee from my bag. I also carried my Colt into the bathroom, leaving it on the vanity while I turned on the hot water.

I'd learned how to wash myself quickly while in the Navy so I was drying myself with a fluffy towel when Lucy knocked on the door. "I have coffee in the kitchen when you're done and I'm afraid I have bad news. I'm watching the Weather Channel and all the roads are flooded out. Looks like you'll be my guest a while longer."

"I really don't want to impose on your hospitality."

"You're not. I'm glad to have the company. I'm pretty lonely here."

"I find that hard to believe. You're an attractive woman with an upbeat personality. Surely, you must go on dates."

"Keep in mind that I know almost everyone here—if not from the diner then from church or from the city government. I'm on the City Council. Unfortunately, all the guys want from me is my pussy. There doesn't seem to be anyone who wants a serious relationship with me."

"I find you an interesting, even intriguing, woman. I'm surprised you're not married."

"Intriguing? How?"

"You're obviously a successful businesswoman who could act superior and aloof. Instead, you're friendly and open—the kind of person who offers a total stranger a place to stay. People like you don't come around every day. That's the truth." I smiled as she blushed from my compliment. Lucy looked into my eyes then smiled. "How about some breakfast? I can offer you bacon and eggs—any style."

"Okay, but only if I can help you in some way."

"You can set the table and get out the orange juice. I'll handle the rest. I was one of the cooks when my dad ran the diner. You know what? I'm in the mood for an omelet. It's just as easy to make two as one." I smiled and nodded my agreement as we walked together into the kitchen. Max ignored us as he lay quietly on the living room floor.

I had to admit that the breakfast was one of the best I'd ever had. Not only was the food great, but the company was just as good. Lucy asked about the case I had just closed and was especially interested in how we had tracked down the two suspects. We cleaned up together then worked again to make the bed. I was dressed in another uniform tee and cargo pants when she asked what I would do today.

"I don't really know, but I was thinking I might drive around town a bit."

"That won't take too long. Why don't you come up to the diner? I'll reserve a booth next to the door and we can talk or watch the TV news and weather. I'll even buy you lunch."

"I'll gladly come, but I insist on paying my way. What will I do with Max? I can't leave him in the SUV all day."

"Bring him in with you. Is he okay with kids?"

"Oh, yeah; he loves kids. I sometimes think he'd play Frisbee all day if I'd let him. He loves going to my cousin's house and playing with her girls." We talked together for a while then Lucy went into the bedroom to dress in her diner uniform. There was a slight break in the rain when we left and Lucy was right—her home did look better in the daylight.

I paid close attention to the directions she gave me and five minutes later I pulled into the diner's lot. She pointed me toward the town's main drag and waved as she entered the doorway. No sooner was she inside than the heavens opened again.

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The town was pretty much deserted even though it was a Saturday, a day I assumed most people would be shopping. There were plenty of small shops of all kinds. The city was clean and I could see that an effort had been made to revitalize the area with large concrete boxes planted with colorful flowers and hanging baskets on the lampposts. The buildings were well maintained with gleaming paint even on a day that was gloomy at best.

There were three schools at the end of the broad avenue—elementary, middle, and high. The football field looked like it could hold 5, 000 people easily. This was clearly rural America at its best. I didn't see even a single homeless person although they could be sheltering in a church or senior center or someplace I didn't even know existed. All in all I was quite impressed by the city even though it looked more like a big town than an actual city. The entire commercial area wasn't more than a half mile long by about three blocks on either side of the main road. I turned around, returning to the diner around 1:00. That was the routine I followed for three days, exploring different areas of the small city every day. In the end I had to agree with Lucy—it was a great place to live.

I had moved my rifle and shotgun back into the SUV as I did every morning and I had my marshal's belt with pistol and baton under my rain parka as Max and I ran into the diner. As promised, there was a booth just to the right of the door with a sign that said "Reserved." I sat with my back to the door and pointed Max to the opposing seat.

We weren't there long the first day when a waitress approached to tell me that I couldn't bring my dog into the building. "Actually, Lucy told me I could. Maybe you should check with her. How about a menu while you're doing that?" She brought it a minute later and by then two young girls had approached us. That also became a regular part of our day.

"Could we pet your dog, Mister?"

"Sure, just hold your hand out first and let Max sniff you. It'll be okay. He loves children and he plays with my cousin's girls all the time."

The older girl looked to be about ten and she obviously had some experience with strange dogs. Max sniffed her hand and then licked it a few times while she laughed. I had to tell Max to sit down because his tail had hit the people in the next booth several times. I tried to apologize, but they just brushed it off.

I was leaning over the table and as I did my jacket opened briefly. The girl gasped as she saw my revolver. "Is that a real gun, Mister? How come you have a gun?"

I waved her closer and opened the parka so she could read my shirt. "Oh, are you some kind of policeman?"

"Yes, I am honey, except I work for the federal government solving crimes that violate federal laws like kidnapping or drugs. Max is my partner. He's a police dog when we're working, but he's just a big baby the rest of the time."

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