Bigfoot Crank Stomp Read Online Free Page A

here twenty-four, seven.”
    Stanger took a sip. “I see your point.”
    “We made a hundred dollar profit, minus the money on gas you spent to bring her here and for Lyle to take her out past the town line. It only took a couple of man-hours. Most importantly, we won’t have a repeat offender on our hands, sucking even more tax payer money down the jizz hole. Pun intended.”
    Stanger laughed. “Was it good?”
    “Better than my cold right hand.”
    They both laughed and refilled their glasses. About a quarter remained in the bottle now. Gabe rubbed his eyes, ready to call it a night soon. He sipped and rested the glass on his stomach.
    “You think she’ll stay out of Tallwood?” Stanger said.
    “If she’s got half a brain she will. Not that I’ve got anything against a woman making money with her snatch. I mean there’s nothing wrong at all with a nice little private operation. If she had a house and set it up where she had personal clients, no problem. Hell I’d probably be her Wednesday night regular. But fucking truckers for ten bucks at Lou’s Stop and Pump or behind the 76 isn’t the way to conduct business. She steps foot in Tallwood again, I’ll take more than a hundred out of her ass.”
    “Why don’t we go round up the meth cookers and show them the polite door as well?”
    “Got to catch them first.”
    “Shit, we know where they are.” Stanger leaned forward. “I can point out two trailers and four cabins in this town where meth is being cooked or bagged for distribution.”
    “I hear you.” Gabe set the empty glass down and rested his elbows on the desk. “But we’re not vigilantes. We catch a hooker fucking in a parking lot, we take care of it our way. But we catch her in the act first. We catch a dealer slinging or some dickwad cooking, we take care of it our way. We don’t knock doors down on hunches or what some angry neighbor says.”
    Stanger finished off his Turkey and belched. “Like we took care of that little shit Wheezy.”
    Gabe pointed his finger at Stanger and flexed his thumb like it was a gun. “Bingo. Wheezy ain’t been back since.”
    “What if we find a way to draw them out? Say we put them in a situation where they just happen to have product on them and we just happen to catch them?”
    Gabe smirked and poured the last of the Turkey in his glass. He rocked back and lifted his feet onto the desk, crossing one polished boot over the other.
    “Well, if something like that were to happen, it would have to be planned carefully so as not to turn the criminal into a victim or place any of our people in a possibly violent confrontation.”
    Stanger nodded. “Don’t roll up on the meth house with one armed deputy.”
    “And don’t roll up on the meth house with an army and pretend like you’re just passing by and heard something out of the ordinary.”
    “I understand, Sheriff.”
    Gabe drained the glass and pointed it at Stanger. “You’re starting to think about this shit the right way. You put your mind to it and find me a way to nail some of these meth cookers, and we’ll make them gone. Permanently.”
    “Fucking A.”
    Gabe leaned forward and set the glass to the side and rested his elbows on a blotter covered in doodles. He sighed heavily. “Well, all talking aside, I think I’m about spent for the night.”
    “Yeah, me, too.” Stanger stood and rolled his neck. It popped in about five places. “Been a long one.”
    “Who’s got the duty tonight with Lyle?”
    “Pronger.”
    Gabe nodded. “On your way out, call Lyle and tell him to radio me when Miss Tawny is dropped off. No calls after that unless the town’s burning or something.”
    “Roger that.”
    Stanger tipped his cap and turned and took two steps when static burst over his radio. No voice followed, though. He stopped and turned back to Gabe.
    Gabe shrugged. “Maybe Lyle sat on his and keyed it by accident.”
    “Yeah, probably.”
    Gabe’s radio burst next. His eyebrows narrowed