Death Takes a Break by Vikki Walton

Author:Vikki Walton [Walton, Vikki]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction
ISBN: 9781950452125
Publisher: Morewellson, Ltd.
Published: 2019-10-28T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

They drove over to the Altgelt ranch in silence. As they made their way up the dirt road, Christie spied a Mercedes parked out in front. Two men looked up as the truck headed toward them. Christie maneuvered the truck up to the corral next to the charred remains of the barn.

“Daggum shame. That’s what that is. Curtis loved that barn.” Pop shook his head.

Christie got out of the truck and opened the passenger side door for her father. He cradled his hurt arm as he exited the vehicle.

One of the men picked up a map like the one she’d seen at Hector’s.

Pop stretched. “What are you boys doing out here?”

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business, old man.” The taller of the two men stepped forward.

Pop sighed deeply. He moved closer to the taller man. “This is Curtis’s place. So, I’ll ask you again. Does Curtis know you’re out here?”

Christie stood by, her stomach in a knot. Surely, these men weren’t going to pick a fight with her father.

“We have as much right to be here as you do.” The man with the map rolled it up. “Plus, once he’s gone, this will be our place.”

“You know, I hate people who don’t respect their elders.” With surprising speed for his age, Pop reached over, grabbed the map out of the man’s hand, threw it down, and ground it into the dirt with the heel of his boot.

“Old man, I’m going—” The man in the blue shirt took a step toward Pop.

Christie stepped forward. “If I were you, I would rethink what you’re planning.”

“Or what?” He sneered. “Who’s going to stop me? You? That pitiful old man with his arm in a sling?”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Christie replied.

A high-pitch scream sounded as the man dropped to his knees.

Pop had hold of the man’s hand, and every time he tried to get up from his knees, Pop pressed again.

“Stop! Stop it!” The man took a swing, only hitting air.

“Now, see here. First, you don’t respect your elders. Then, no one, and I mean no one, talks to my Christie like that.”

“You’re insane.” He tried to take a swing again but cried out in pain as Pop added more pressure to the man’s hand.

“Sonny, you need to behave. I won’t put up with those kinds of people who need to be scraped off the bottom of my shoe.” He moved, and the man crawled after him, his once crisply starched, gray slacks now covered in dirt.

The other man took a step forward. Pop squeezed the man’s hand again.

“Stay there, Erik!” The man gestured with his free hand.

Pop moved them around until the man faced Christie. “You say you’re sorry now, son.”

“Sorry.”

Pop squeezed. “That don’t sound sincere, like.”

“I’m sorry.”

He looked up at Pop, who waited.

The man spoke to Christie, “I apologize for my words, ma’am.”

“Better.” He stood there for a minute. “Now, if I let you loose, are you going to be a good boy?”

“Yes.”

Erik took another step. “Nick said he was sorry.

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