A Rude Reception by John Layne

Author:John Layne
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: thewordverve

Chapter 32

Monday

Garrison strolled down the wide hallway to Billy Mitchell’s office, where he found the door closed. Two loud raps on the thick wooden slab brought the Kutseena County sheriff to the door, which swung open on three silent silver hinges. Mitchell was dressed in his neatly pressed uniform, complete with three military creases on the back of his shirt.

“Good afternoon, Chief. I heard you had a little trouble out at the Pumpjack,” Mitchell chuckled, glancing down at Garrison’s shredded jeans.

“A little,” Garrison answered as he followed the sheriff into his office. He plopped down in one of the plush leather chairs opposite Mitchell’s polished desk. “Got any good news for me?”

“Some good, some not so good, I reckon,” Mitchell responded as he flipped open a manila folder on his desk. “The grand jury issued my subpoenas for Dawson’s credit union account and VA file, but since I had no information for a cell phone account, that was denied as expected. Also, Dawson had no next of kin and no will. That means his estate will go to the state of Texas as escheated property.” He turned the folder around so Garrison could read the top document.

Garrison leaned forward and perused the letter before settling back into the relaxed confines of his chair. His right knee began to throb. The skin on his damaged knee burned, and sharp pains darted around under his right kneecap. He winced and flexed his right leg, bending at the knee several times.

“I hate to admit it, but I’m getting too old for that fighting crap,” he mumbled.

Mitchell laughed. “You’ve been involved in more shit in less than a month than your predecessor was in the last five years of his career.”

“That’s not a goal I cared to achieve,” Garrison admitted. “How long before the state takes Dawson’s place?”

“A couple of months. Why?”

“I’d like to go out there one more time and look around, if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all. The property is my responsibility until the state notifies me that they’ve assumed ownership. Once that happens, it’ll probably be put up for sale, which should be entertaining since every oil company on the planet will make a bid,” Mitchell speculated. “You want a deputy to go with you?”

“No, not necessary. I want to poke around one more time to satisfy myself. I’ll head out right now since I’m halfway there already.”

Mitchell reached into his desk drawer and removed an envelope marked “Dawson Key.” He handed the envelope to Garrison.

“Just drop it off at the front desk when you get back,” Mitchell stated. “I’ll let you know what we find out from the credit union and VA.”

Garrison limped out of the building into the blazing west Texas sun. The heat radiated off every exposed surface, sending blurry ripples of fiery air upward everywhere he looked. He realized he hadn’t considered the heat since Amanda had dispatched the fight call. There was such a thing as an officer’s “fight or flight” instinct when stress takes over, and the mind focuses on the immediate threat and nothing else.

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