A Dead Man's Tale Read Online Free

all over and the thing had to be done. Charlie Moon pulled the telephone out of his jacket pocket, found the programmed number, his finger was on the button…the stubborn digit refused to press it.
    The rancher shook his head. I can’t do this.
    Not to Scott.

Chapter Four
    Laying Down the Law
    About six seconds flat after Charlie Moon had almost called him, Chief of Police Scott Parris—who knew about his Ute friend’s financial troubles and was well aware of the back pay the county owned his part-time deputy—made up his mind to do something about it. And right now .
    About two hundred heavy boot-stomps later, the angry chief of police marched into the County Council Chamber, where the mayor was conducting a breakfast meeting with a half-dozen cronies. This six-plus-one committee, whose average weight was in excess of two hundred pounds, was known derisively by disappointed voters as the Seven Dwarves.
    Scott Parris was not present to play Snow White. The big-shouldered cop raised a meaty palm to command silence. “I don’t have any time to waste, so I’ll have my say and hit the bricks.” He waved a finger at the mayor and six council-persons. “Every mother’s son of you knows that Charlie Moon—with verbal approval from the mayor—has served as my deputy on several occasions during the past several years. You also know that despite all the paperwork I’ve filed to make things ‘legal and proper,’ and all the hours I’ve spent reminding you fine community leaders that it ain’t right to let Charlie go unpaid for his efforts in keeping the citizens of this county safe from murderers, burglars, arsonists, grafting politicians, and other felons—you still ain’t paid him one thin dime!” Seeing the mayor about to open his mouth and make another in a long line of inane protests that would make his blood boil, Parris—who was getting madder with every racing heartbeat—snapped, “Shuddup, Bruce!”
    The mayor shudduped.
    The chief of police gulped in a deep breath. “Now here’s the deal. Either you cut Charlie a check for full payment right away, or else. You guys hearing me clear?”
    A recently elected councilman, who had a Yale law degree mounted on his office wall, was not intimidated. Not yet. He cleared his throat. “That sounds very much like a threat.”
    “You’re damn right it is!” Parris banged his big fist on the table, spilling six cups of coffee and the new councilman’s green tea. His red face inches from the lawyer’s gray mask, the burly cop bared his big teeth in a wolfish grin. “If you politicians don’t do the right thing, there’s gonna be ten kinds of hell to pay. You want to hear the one that’ll really make your day?”
    It was clear that not one of the Seven did.
    Which was why the chief of police enjoyed telling them. Parris watched seven pale faces blanch chalky white, arteries thumpity-thumping on seven flabby necks. When he’d had his say, the Dwarves got down to some serious business. There were concerned murmurings, hoarse whisperings, exchanges of knowing nods.
    Bottom line?
    A solemn promise was made that sometimes-deputy Moon would be paid in full. (The county’s top cop asked when.) Not to worry. The check would be cut right away. (Parris demanded specificity.) Sometime today. Tomorrow at the latest.
    “Tomorrow is not an option,” he roared—and stormed out of the room.
    As he hit the street, the chief of police realized that this was probably the latest in a long line of broken vows. But if they don’t keep their word this time around, I’ll get even with every one of those miserable egg-sucking sons of bitches!
    An overdose of anger tends to distract a man from what’s going on around him, and the furious chief of police took no notice of those citizens he met on the sidewalk. Including the soft-spoken pastor of the Wesleyan Methodist Church, who said, “Good morning.” Also Ms. Janey Bultmann (owner of Bultmann Employment Services), who was