I grabbed the shotgun, pumped it, and aimed it at all three of them. Dan struggled up to his feet and sat back down in his recliner letting the motor slowly lower him back down.
“I got the cancer,” he mumbled. “I’m going to die soon.” He paused and took a deep breath and if it was for sympathy then he was looking at the wrong guy. He continued, “I wanted my boy to have something he wouldn’t fool away.” He stared at me. “That cell phone tower would be a good steady income for him. The house,” and he motioned with his hands, “is very efficient.”
Charlie and Corky were arguing with each other over the pills in the floor and paid us no attention.
“But they always fool it away,” I said. “Always.” I grabbed the cordless phone laying on the end table and dialed the sheriff’s office, keeping the shotgun steady on all of them.”
Chapter 9
“So they’re going to send Charlie and Dan Rogers to jail?” Sam asked. He and his mother had listened in silence while I told them about the investigation the next morning. His mom had smoked almost a half a pack of cigarettes while I talked. I’m not sure she smoked any of them all the way. It seemed like she just sucked one down fast, stamped it out on the ground, and lit another.
I didn’t want to tell them the truth. I didn’t want to tell them that Charlie and Corky went in and out of jail as often as some people go to the bathroom. They were the unflushable floating turds of society. Even with an accidental homicide charge to go with their breaking and entering and drug possession charges they still wouldn’t be in jail long. The county pen was busting at the seams with worse offenders and they’d find a way for them to get out soon.
Daddy Dan, if the cancer didn’t get him first, would be no better as far as his bribery with Fenters goes. The county good old boy system would mop that up before anything could get out. CYA ASAP erases most problems before anyone even notices. Of course the complacency of the general citizens of the county doesn’t exactly lead to much public awareness of things of this nature anyways.
They were waiting on me. They were waiting on me to tell them how justice would be served and how Dan Thompson would be avenged. I took a deep breath and said, “I’m sure Sheriff Brookshire and the district attorney will prosecute them with the full extent of the law. They want justice as much as you do.” I could sell false hope almost as easy as a fast talking insurance agent or fire and brimstone preacher.
Sam passed a bulging white envelope to me. “I sold the bull and he brought-”
“It feels just right,” I told him as I weighed it with my hand. I knew the auctioneer that worked the weekly sales at the stockbarn. I gave him a call to see how well the bull sold considering the circumstances around it. The cattle market was up and the bull, who came from a good bloodline, ended up being sold for a little more than I anticipated. I could pay some bills and buy some groceries with it.
The widow held her cigarette in her leathered fingers. “I haven’t smoked in ten years. I--,” and her voice faltered. She paused for a moment and said, “We thank you for what you’ve done, Mr. Steele.” She dropped it and crushed it like the rest. Ashes to ashes I suppose.
###
“What I want to know,” Gramps began, “is why the hell was the Rogers boy shooting at Thompson if he was too far away to hit him?” He stopped rocking in his chair long enough to pull out his worn smooth copper flask from his pocket and add some kick to his glass of sweet tea. He didn’t offer to share any, not that he ever did.
The fireflies flickered on and off around the porch and in the yard. The yellow hues were in contrast to the dark pinks of the clouds. We had the perfect view of the sunset sitting there on the porch. As a child Gramps had told me to respect each one when you had the chance because when you went to bed you never knew if the sun would rise again in the morning.
I propped up one leg on the porch swing and drained what was left of my glass. “I think he just wanted to harass Thompson in case he ever got any ideas about taking Dan to court over the cell tower. Make him see it wasn’t worth the effort. Charlie knew he couldn’t hit him. He just wanted to make some noise and scare them. Charlie and Corky would’ve probably done more stupid stuff to them if they’d had time.”
Gramps took another sip and gazed out toward the last bit of the deep red sun before it disappeared beneath the tree line. I didn’t tell him about the Hayes brothers since they didn’t figure completely in with the case. While I knew he wouldn’t tell there was no need for him to have to keep more secrets than he already had. I wondered if he would have handled them differently back when he was the county sheriff.
I finally broke the silence. “If Charlie hadn’t been shooting down at the Thompson place then nothing might have ever been uncovered.”
Gramps continued staring at the spot where the sun had been and watched the life dissolve out of the clouds. I knew he was chewing on my story and trying to find ways I could’ve done better.
“Did I ever tell you about the time.....” he began. Another story I had heard a thousand times. Perhaps it would be embellished in a new way this evening, perhaps it would be the truth. Either way it would be about a bygone day when evil came to town and met its match.
I chewed on the remaining ice in my empty glass. This is why I came back to Canton County ten years ago. Gramps continued his tale about a murdered tramp, her half-sister, and the drifter who finally confessed. We would stay on the porch to midnight swapping tales of losers, liars, lovers, and fiends. This is why I stayed.
About The Author
Ryan A. Bright lives and works on his family farm. While taking care of their dairy cows he often daydreams about stories and occasionally writes them down.
You can read more about him on his blogs:
Silo Skies: My Life On A Dairy Farm
The Udder Side: Secret Agent Cows Reporting From A Dairy Farm
You can also follow on Twitter
@farmerbright
Want to read more about John Steele?
A simple case of infidelity turns out to be not so simple for John Steele. State politics come all the way to Canton County and there's only one private detective that can sort out all the clues. Look for the next as of yet untitled John Steele book in late fall of 2013.
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