Mason Sharpe Thriller 01-Point Blank by Ryles Logan

Author:Ryles, Logan [Ryles, Logan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Suspense, American Suspense, Action Thriller, Crime Thriller, Adventure, Criminal Investigation, North Carolina
Publisher: Inkubator Books
Published: 2022-09-03T16:00:00+00:00

25

It took me a few minutes to regain focus. The inside of the cruiser was dark, and smelled of sour fast food. Two guys rode up front, both dressed in the subdued tans and browns of a sheriff’s department. County deputies, I figured, deployed to break up the fight.

They must have been stationed nearby, to arrive so quickly. Or else they had some advance notice, which made this whole thing a setup. My destination would expose the truth.

I spit onto the floorboard, my head a little fuzzy and my lower back still burning. But overall, in pretty good shape for having fought four big rednecks, and three all at once.

I would take it.

The cruiser found the end of the gravel drive and turned onto the county road. The cops didn’t talk. They sat slouched back, chewing tobacco like this was yet another midnight shift, and they were hoping somebody would speed, just so they’d have something to do.

It wasn’t a good sign. It wasn’t the body language of two honest deputies who’d just arrested an out-of-towner for brawling. I’d done plenty of that, during my time as a beat cop. I always had questions. I always wanted to talk to witnesses, even if the truth was pretty evident.

“You guys know a fellow named Crosby?” I asked.

No answer. I scratched my chin with one shoulder, my hands still cuffed behind my back.

“So I guess we’re going downtown.”

Still no answer. One of the cops opened a packet of peanuts and crunched them right along with his tobacco. I settled into my seat and resigned myself to just ride. These guys weren’t gonna talk, no matter what I said.

We drove down long and winding county roads for twenty minutes. They all looked the same to me, surrounded by alternating forests and fields. I saw very few houses, and most of what I did see were trailer homes parked a little ways off the road, usually with a couple old trucks sitting out front, and maybe a Rottweiler chained to a tree.

The stuff of movies, I thought. Not all Hollywood is fiction.

At last the cruiser pulled to the side of the road at a quiet intersection, and the driver cut off the headlights. But neither cop reached for their door, and the engine continued to rumble.

I looked out my window, surveying a rolling field, barren and muddy this time of year, with some kind of farm processing facility on the far side. I saw a couple silos, two barns, and a tractor.

But no people.

Not a good sign.

“I think you forgot something,” I said.

No answer.

“If I’m under arrest you should have read me my rights.”

The driver spat tobacco juice into an old coffee cup. His partner chewed peanuts.

“Come on. I know you guys watch cop shows. Or do you not get TV out here?”

The driver smiled. A brief flash of genuine humor across his scraggly face. But he still didn’t answer.

Three minutes later a pickup pulled in next to the cruiser. It was some jacked up thing on mud tires, and two big guys spilled out—both wearing overalls.

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