Murder At Cluster Springs Raceway: A Brandon Hall Mystery by Theo Jr. John

Author:Theo Jr., John
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-64119-389-4
Publisher: CKN Christian Publishing
Published: 2018-09-19T00:00:00+00:00

Twelve

“Hi, again,” I said.

“Hi yourself, Brandon Hall,” he said, taking a sip of sweet tea.

“I knew you weren’t a janitor.”

“What gave it away?”

“Your posture, you’re clearly in phenomenal shape.” He perked up at the compliment and smiled. I didn’t know if he was friend or foe, but it never hurt to break new ground with a compliment. I also liked his carefree smile. “And you’re a horrible janitor. That glass window you left was a mess.” He laughed at himself. Another good trait. “Who are you? Homeland security?”

“Something like that,” he said, taking another sip of tea.

“Antifa, is that big a threat?”

“They are,” he said.

“I thought they were a bunch of spoiled skinny white kids who are angry at the world.”

“They are,” he said again. “However, we have reason to believe they’re starting to get organized and are researching tactics of other radical groups.”

“Like the weather underground from the sixties?”

“Worse,” he said.

“Like?”

“Like I’ve told you too much,” he said. “Now I have a problem, Mr. Hall.”

“What’s that?”

“My peers want me to arrest you.”

“For what?” I said.

“You were trespassing on campus.”

I tilted my head as if to let him know that was a weak angle. “That’s a bit thin don’t you think?”

He nodded as if he knew I would call his bluff. “Don’t worry,” he said. “However, I do need to ask why you’re here? I know your ex-military and work as a farmer and a PI. I’m assuming it wasn’t the farming that brought you here?”

“You assume correct. I was thinking of going back to get my Master’s Degree.”

It was his turn to tilt his head and smile. “That’s also a bit thin don’t you think?”

“Okay,” I said. “I’m investigating a case.”

“I have to press you on that, Mr. Hall.”

“I’m sorry, I can’t discuss it.”

“That ain’t gonna fly.”

“It’s all I can give you, unless you want to do a little quid pro quo?”

He sat back in his chair and looked over my shoulder and shook his head. He was calling someone off. “I can dance a little, but not much. However, before we start, please consider that not everyone in my company is as nice as I am.”

I nodded. “Understood, Mr?”

He smiled. “Woodstock.”

“Okay Mr. Woodstock,” I held up my fingers to make air quotes to mock his obvious fake name. “What I can tell you are facts that are self-evident. Yes, I’m here on a case. Yes, I live in Southern Virginia. That area of Virginia is not a wealthy area. My rates are such that very few people off the street can afford my services.”

“Based on that I’d say that your clients are, for the most part, insurance companies and local law enforcement?”

“Correct,” I said. “And those cases are mostly relegated to Halifax County.”

“So you’re outside of Halifax County, which means this is a private case. And the only people who can afford you are high profile elites who probably live outside of SoVa?”

I nodded again. “Yup.”

He leaned back in his chair looking up at the tin ceiling of the pub as he pondered the riddle.

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