SEALS Book 14 Treasure! by Kevin D. Randle

Author:Kevin D. Randle
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Speaking Volumes
Published: 2015-12-18T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

Boyle stayed at the bar, sucking down beer and trying not to remember what the bodies lying in the desert had looked like. Winters and Jefferies left, driving to the outskirts of town where they knew they’d find Thomas Mathews, a friend who worked construction when the work was available and who drank beer when it wasn’t.

Mathews was sitting outside his trailer, his feet up on the lip of a fifty-five gallon drum that had been cut in half, drinking beer and listening to the ball game on the radio. His dog, tied to a dying tree, barked at them as they stopped the car.

“Shut up, Shithead,” yelled Mathews at the barking dog. He threw an empty beer can at the damned mutt when it didn’t listen to him.

Winters got out of the car and moved forward. He stopped short and looked down at Mathews. He was a big man with a huge stomach and a beard that covered most of his face. A black curling mass that climbed his cheeks so that only his bright eyes showed. He had shoulder length hair that hadn’t been washed recently and that was tied back with a leather cord.

The yard of the trailer was as big a mess as the owner. It was hard packed dirt with no sign of grass. A broken down pick up sat on cinderblocks to the side. The engine was missing as were the seats and the steering wheel.

There was a trash pile that held wooden crates, broken cinder blocks, bottles, papers and magazines. Bottles, empty food cartons, beer cans and newspapers were scattered around the rest of the yard. There was a single, rusting I-beam about four feet long right in front of the door. It might have been an attempt at building a step up.

“What you want, Nate?” asked Mathews. It came out, “Wha’ chew wan’, Nate?”

“You doing anything?”

“Sitting here listening to the game. I’m doing that right now.”

“I mean you got work?”

Mathews shifted around and then shrugged. “Not at the moment, no.”

“You wanting some?”

“Always can use some work if the pay’s right and the hours ain’t too long.”

Jefferies came around the other side of the car. “Afternoon, Tom.”

“Afternoon, Lloyd.”

Winters rubbed his face and then wiped the sweat on his shirt. “Got a hundred dollars for you if you’ll spend some time in the desert. Got a hundred dollars for any one you think you’re going to need.”

Mathews tilted the beer to his lips and drank. “Why’re you paying me a hundred for anything?”

“Not me, Tom. A friend. Wants to keep everyone out of his section of the desert. Wants them to stay clear out of his section of the desert and will pay you and a couple of others to make sure they stay out.”

Mathews sat up and leaned his elbows on his knees. “Just how far are we supposed to go? How badly does he want to keep people out?”

Winters understood the question and grinned. “You still got that old deer rifle?”

“Yeah.”

“Our friend thinks it would be a real good idea if you took it along.

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