Biker by Baron Mike;

Author:Baron, Mike;
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Liberty Island
Published: 2016-07-26T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 34

Sheriff DeWitt was seated at the booking desk when the deputy brought Pratt and Mazin out of the cells. Mazin nodded to him.

“Sheriff.”

The sheriff nodded back. “Mason. Marie, give Mr. Pratt back his personal belongings. And Mr. Pratt, I’d appreciate it if you’d stick around for a few days in case we have any more questions. You with me, counselor?”

“That is entirely at Mr. Pratt’s discretion but as his lawyer, naturally I advise him to cooperate fully with law enforcement.”

Marie produced the metal bin, checking the items off against a list one by one as she named them and handed them over. Pratt signed the receipt and redistributed his goods back in their pockets. He swallowed two ibuprofens, washing them down at the bubbler. Mazin indicated an exit up a flight of stairs through the front of the building. They emerged next to the main entrance of the courthouse into the afternoon heat, oppressive even in the shade. Mazin headed down the concrete path to the street toward a black Ford Excursion with a set of Texas Longhorns mounted on the hood. The license plate read, “CWBOY.”

Mazin fingered his fob. The Excursion beeped and flashed. “Step into my office,” he said, climbing up into the driver’s seat using both a step-up and a hand hold.

Pratt stiffly got in the passenger’s side, also using the hand hold. Mazin started the engine and turned the air conditioner on full blast. A police scanner hung beneath the dash on the passenger’s side.

“I knew that chickenshit charge wasn’t going to last. Sheriff’s been combing the books looking for some other charge with which he could hold you. His pride is hurt ’cause you uncovered something he should have known about. By the way, he impounded your bike. Found a dead War Bonnet in a gulch.”

“What do I owe you, counselor?” Pratt said.

Mazin waved a hand, pointed toward the glove compartment. “Gratis. I owe Danny some favors. Open that up why don’tcha and hand me one.”

Pratt popped open the glove compartment. Inside was a miniature refrigerator holding a six-pack of Fat Tires. Pratt handed one to Mazin and took one himself.

“There’s an opener on the lid there.”

Pratt removed the bottle opener from its clamp inside the glove compartment and opened his bottle. He handed the opener to Mazin.

Mazin held his bottle up. “To liberty.” They clicked bottles. “Danny gave me the short version but I’m not sure I know what this is all about. You mind bringing me up to speed?”

Pratt told the story of his search for Ginger’s missing son, omitting nothing. Unlike law enforcement officers, Pratt had an instinctive and well-earned trust in criminal defense attorneys. They had always helped him. His best friend was a lawyer. And they knew how to keep their mouths shut. Like all good lawyers, Mazin was a good listener. He was silent for a minute when Pratt finished.

“That’s unbelievable. This Moon sounds like a raging psychopath. What are you going to do now?”

“Well sir, I was hoping to go back out there and take another look around for the boy.

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