Renee Pawlish - Reed Ferguson 03 - The Maltese Felon by Renee Pawlish

Author:Renee Pawlish [Pawlish, Renee]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery: Crime Noir - Humor - P.I. - Colorado
ISBN: 1477418296
Publisher: Renee Pawlish
Published: 2012-04-22T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER ELEVEN

The blaring alarm jolted me awake. I sat up and my sore muscles screamed. I checked my ankle. The swelling was down but it was still tender.

I limped into the bathroom and examined my face in the mirror. The bruise under my left eye had turned a deep bluish-black and the scrape on my forehead looked as if a cat had scratched me. I took a long hot shower, ran my hands through my hair to comb it, and then plodded back in the bedroom. My pants were dry but I found more rips in them than I’d noticed the night before. My shirt was winkled but clean. I got dressed, wiped the dust off my shoes and put them on. My left foot fit tightly in the shoe. I grabbed my coat and lumbered down the hall, across the lobby and into a small restaurant.

This must’ve been the place to be in Deer Trail on a Saturday morning. The only table available was a two-seater in the corner by a window, and every eye in the place stared at me as I hobbled over to it. I eased into the wooden chair and a middle-aged woman in a yellow dress strolled up to the table.

“Hon, you look like you could use coffee,” she said, holding up a cup and half-full coffee pot.

“That sounds great.” I leaned back and stretched. Joints popped loudly.

“Here’s a menu,” she said, taking a laminated sheet from under her arm and handing it to me. “I’ll be back in a minute to take your order.”

“Thanks.” I took the menu and perused it. I hadn’t eaten much since lunch yesterday, so I decided on the Rancher’s Plate: eggs, steak, hash browns, toast and fruit.

“Tough night?”

I looked up. Two men in jeans, plaid shirts and baseball caps were gazing curiously at me.

“Yeah,” I said. I sipped my coffee.

“What’s the other guy look like?” said the one closest to me as he scratched his blond beard.

I sighed. “It’s a long story.”

“What’s the short version?” the other one asked. He was a hefty guy with a huge nose and dark eyes, and he wasn’t what I wanted to look at this early in the morning.

“I ran out of gas,” I said.

They both nodded slowly, as if sympathizing with me.

“How far?” This from the one with the big nose.

“A few miles west of town,” I said.

He rubbed his nose. “What kind of car is it?”

“A 4-Runner.”

“Ah,” the bearded guy nodded. “I passed it on the way here.”

“I’m glad it’s still there,” I managed a rueful smile.

“No one’s going to do anything to it,” the other one chuckled. “Not out here.”

“Tell you what,” the bearded guy said. “Eat your breakfast and when you’re done, I’ll run you to get some gas and take you back to your car.”

I smiled and said, “That’d be great. I’m not sure my ankle would get me there otherwise.”

The waitress came and took my order. The service was fast and I was soon wolfing down what seemed like the best meal I’d had in days.

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