Second Chances by George Lee Miller

Author:George Lee Miller [Miller, George Lee]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781734156430
Publisher: Frio Press LLC
Published: 2020-03-30T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Six

Kelly and I left Owen standing under the cottonwood tree by the river. The teen crowd kept their distance from us as we walked toward the bluff. I noticed both linebackers were picking up their empty beer bottles. That was something new from when I was in high school. Maybe there was still hope for their generation. I finished my beer and tossed the empty to the blond linebacker.

“Do you believe him?” Kelly asked.

We retraced our steps along the path that wound through the prickly pear cactus and mesquite brush.

“I think he’s covering his ass.”

“So, what’s next?”

“Keep stirring the pot till the Dragon stew starts to cook.”

“You’re gonna piss a lot of people off.”

“I’m not in this to make friends.”

“Why then?” she asked.

She waited for an answer, but I didn’t have a snappy comeback. I started my pickup and took a last look at the dark-green canopy of cottonwood trees that marked the river’s meandering path. Mike Bauer’s convention center may be good for the local economy, but it would sure mess up a hell of a pretty place in the country.

“Skeeter says you’re an adrenaline junky. Is that it? Do you just like to fight?”

She was searching for answers and analyzing my motivations as if she were checking a section of my resume, trying to decide if I was long-term boyfriend material. We’d said a lot of things over the weekend. We’d made love, held hands, and even talked about the future, but now she wanted to know if I was someone she could hang with for the long haul.

“What do you think?” I asked.

“I think he’s right. I also think you still feel guilty.”

“Guilty for what?”

“For coming home alive. I know you left brothers on the battlefield. If you’re trying to make up for that by putting yourself in danger, it will never work.”

“Maybe finding Maya is just me doin’ a favor for an old family friend?”

“Maybe you’re full of shit,” she said.

We passed the quaint Willkommen to Fredericksburg sign, and a police cruiser lit us up. Officer Zeller was on my bumper with his lights on and siren blaring. I pulled to the side of the road near the liquor store and started to get out of the car. Les beat me to it.

“Stay put, Fischer!” he yelled through my open window. “Put your hands on the wheel.” He was out of breath from jogging to my door.

“Les, what the hell’s wrong with you? Was I speeding?” I asked.

He poked his Pillsbury Doughboy face in the window, close enough that I could smell the cheeseburger with onions he had for lunch. “I just got a call from a very angry parent. He said you assaulted his son by the river.”

I could see my own pissed off reflection in his mirror shades.

“Did Mike call you?” I asked.

“You were trespassing on private property.”

“Come on, Les. Half the high school football team’s down there drinking beer.”

“I’m going to have to take you down to the station.”

“That’s bullshit, Les,” I said.

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