A Grave Every Mile (A John Holmes Thriller Book 1) by Crisman Strunk

Author:Crisman Strunk [Strunk, Crisman]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Independent
Published: 2024-01-01T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 16

We ended up eating at a Mom-and-Pop buffet-style restaurant. By the time Lucky got through with the place, Mom was crying, and Pop was going for his blood pressure medicine. As dark clouds began to gather overhead, we drove back to the trailer park with Lucky voicing his opinions on a variety of topics over the combined din of the radio and air conditioning. Neither of us mentioned Charlie or what had happened earlier. That’s the way it was between us: a lot of mouthing back and forth until someone got butt-hurt and had a meltdown. Then, after a little time-out, it was back to mouthing again.

He pulled into my drive with a flourish of dust.

“You want a beer?” I asked.

“No, I’m still stuffed and that crap you call beer will make me throw up. Besides, I’m thinking about going to the track, see how the dogs are running. Want to come along?”

“Nah, I’m bushed after my own track meet. I’ll just hang out around here.”

“Suit yourself.”

Lucky backed the Caddy out and shot into traffic like a golden wave of vice and depravity. I watched him weave through cars like a needle through polyester before heading toward my trailer.

I stopped in the doorway and looked around. I’m pretty easygoing when it comes to housekeeping, but even I had to admit that I’d let it go for too long. After some token cleaning, I heated up a Hungry Man dinner and picked at it while watching a couple of episodes of Gunsmoke. Gunsmoke was one of my favorites although I’d come to the realization that, for someone who tried to find ways to handle situations without violence, Matt Dillon sure had to do a lot of killing. By my math, he had to shoot at least a couple of lawbreakers an episode. I was beginning to relate.

Fat Ass bounded through the cat door from wherever he’d been, most like involved in some Lotharion hi jinks. He gave me a look and let out a loud meow so I put the remains of my dinner on the floor and let him finish it. Once he was done, he jumped up on the couch beside me and gave his sack a thorough cleaning. It must have worn him out because he curled up and immediately fell asleep. In a few minutes, the sound of his snoring competed with the television. A movie came on after Gunsmoke. It was about some woman who woke up in a hospital bed with amnesia and started trying to figure out her past. I guess I wasn’t too interested in learning about it with her because I soon joined Fat Ass in sleep.

* * *

I wasn’t sure if the pounding that was shaking my trailer was just in my head or coming from somewhere else. I rose from the couch and determined that it wasn’t my head coming apart so, using my keen detective abilities, that left the front door. I stumbled toward it, stubbing my toe on a chair in the process.

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