The Slickrock Cafe by Miller Chinle

Author:Miller, Chinle
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Yellow Cat Publishing
Published: 2011-12-06T00:00:00+00:00

18

Barry and Jeff had taken off on Jeff’s motorcycle, leaving Bud to think about whether he had made a good decision or not. He didn’t figure anyone would shoot at them or bother them, and Barry wasn’t drunk, so Bud figured it would all work out. He himself seemed to be the one the stalker was after. This made him remember that someone had been tailing Krider and that Howie had been trying to call him.

Bud pushed the callback button on his phone, and Howie answered.

“Sheriff, where you been? We’re stuck out here and need help.”

“Sorry, Howie, I got into a bit of a bind,” Bud answered, not mentioning that his phone ringing was what had helped get him there. “What’s going on?”

“We’re out here and hit a pothole and had a flat. I just had one already this morning, and the tire’s in the shop getting fixed. And that means we don’t have a spare.”

“Isn’t there anyone a bit closer that you could call? It’ll take me a good hour or more to get there. Did you ditch whoever was following Krider?”

“It appears so. We’re out on the old highway, and it’s full of potholes like I’ve never seen. The county should be maintaining it a bit better.”

“It’s been abandoned for years, Howie, ever since they built the new road.”

Howie added, “I don’t know anybody that would come out here, as all these potholes make it slow going. Maureen would, but she’s driving a little VW bug and would never make it. And Bill Krider would, but he’s stuck out here with me. I need to hire a deputy. I’ve been telling the mayor that ever since you left, but he doesn’t think we can afford it.”

Bud sighed. It was going to be a long night. He noted the last lingering sunrays were now gone and the stars were coming out. Orion was poking its head above the eastern horizon.

“I’ll be there as soon as I can, Howie. What size tire you need, and what’s the bolt configuration?”

There was a moment of silence, then, “16 with five lugs.”

“Perfect,” Bud replied. “You can use the spare off my FJ. I’ll stop and get it, then come out. How far out there are you?”

“About five miles past the airport. But Bud, somebody may be watching that FJ, waiting for you to come back. You might not wanna go there.”

“You’re right, Howie. I’ll figure something else out and be there soon.”

“10-4 and over,” Howie said, hanging up the phone.

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