Fat Cat Stew: A Mystery Thriller by J.R. Rain & Lawrence Kelter

Author:J.R. Rain & Lawrence Kelter [Rain, J.R. & Kelter, Lawrence]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Rain Press
Published: 2024-05-24T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirty-three

I got my SEAL-trained ass out of Calhoun County, not far out, but far enough to avoid taking guff from the lies of Elvis Hardin.

Just south of US 278, no more than a mile into Etowah County, stood a roach-free motel that wasn’t predominantly occupied by crack cooks and whores. It was sort of a cabin in the woods, no more than half-a-dozen rooms, a stay over for fishermen and hunters. Lots of rustic charm, but next to no amenities. It would do. I was just a stone’s throw past the Calhoun County border, but technically within the letter of the law and complying with E.A.’s ultimatum. It was a short drive back to Possum Trot if I needed to get back in a hurry. Not that I gave a damn about E.A.’s proclamation, but it gave me a place to coordinate efforts with Fallon and Tempt while keeping compliant with the Chief of Police Dipstick’s orders.

Tempt arrived about a half-hour after me and Fallon. She came through the door, her gaze immediately zoned in on the smorgasbord I’d just dumped on the small writing desk, Flamin’ Hot Cheetos, Ruffles Flamin’ Hot, Takis Blue Heat, and canned Pepsi.

“You gone on a health food kick?” she asked as she dropped her laptop on the bed.

“Never let it be said I don’t know how to throw a party.”

Fallon made straight for the Takis. “You wimped out, Briscoe—Takis Fuego are way hotter than these.”

“The vending machine was all out.”

The packages were small, his mouth big. He ripped open the bag and grabbed half the contents with his oversized claw and munched the serving into pulp in seconds flat.

Tempt had set up her laptop and was looking at the photos from Eldridge Surry’s phone. “I can’t stop looking at these,” she said. “The more I look, the more I’m convinced that Surry was staking out the place.”

Fallon shook the Takis crumbs into his mouth. “I thought that at first, too, but I ruled it out. From what we know about Surry, he was a few sheep short of a flock. A guy like Surry doesn’t go in for all that planning. He’d wing it. Like everything else he did in life.”

I heard someone rap on the door. It sounded like someone with a big old fist, a knock-the-door-down kind of fist. “It’s okay,” Fallon said, once again meddling with my gray matter. “I invited a ringer.” I threw an inconspicuous glance at Tempt. “Yeah, she knows. I made the mistake of telling her what she was thinking this morning and…”

“When were y’all going to tell me you could read minds?” Tempt asked. “Was I the only one in the dark?”

“Just you and Briscoe,” he said as he walked to the door. “And I’d like to keep it that way.”

Ex-Chief Grainger walked through the door. He was dressed in a flannel shirt, jeans, and a khaki fly-fishing vest with oversized patch pockets. The Sig automatics on each hip led me to believe the pockets weren’t filled with lures and fishing gear.

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