Day Sixty-nine - Saturday
There was someone strange in my bed. I knew she was strange, as the person was thin and extremely long. My hand was on a small butt as it rose and fell, filling a clutching pussy with my very hard morning woody. My body was signaling that it was enjoying the connection and was ready to send a big load of baby makers into the tight clutching pussy.
As my eyes opened and I viewed a still sleeping Deanne, I realized that she was a candidate to become a mommy if we continued. On the next rise of her pussy on my dick, I slid to the side disconnecting us.
Her hips moved around trying to find the good feeling again, but I was already slipping out of bed. Hoping she would stay asleep, I went to the bathroom then came back to the bedroom to view the long, lean, dark-skinned Deanne. She was a stark difference to my luscious Sue.
The clock said it was six fifteen already, so I made coffee then took a shower, putting on shorts and a T-shirt. By the time I went out on the patio, Glenda was waiting for me.
"So who warmed your bed last night? Anyone I know?"
I looked at Glenda with a raised eyebrow, "Not my fault. Sue is determined to keep sending bed warmers. Deanne stayed over."
"Is she still sleeping or did you put her back to sleep."
"Still sleeping. We did not do anything last night, and I got out of bed before something could happen this morning. I know that's not being a good host, but then again, how are you supposed to treat a little girl like that?"
"She's not a little girl. What is she six-six, six-eight or more?"
"You know what I mean, what is she twenty, twenty-one at the most."
"I will be twenty-one next month," came from Deanne as she came out onto the patio, wearing my robe.
She looked at Glenda then back at me. "We didn't do anything during the night did we? I don't think we did, or at least I hope we didn't."
"We were fine, Deanne, we did nothing that would be bad or get you pregnant. Have some coffee and relax."
"I'm going to put on clothes. I don't feel comfortable being in just a robe."
Glenda told her, "You're probably over-dressed around here on a weekend morning. But with four of the women gone, you won't get treated with all of the cute nightwear they usually wear."
"I'll be right back, I'll be a lot more comfortable in shorts and top."
Glenda was talkative this morning, "You guys were all up late last night. I saw you on the patio with Shawna, Debbie, Deanne, Tiny, Phil, Ruth, and Judy. It looked like you guys had just gotten back from the hot tub."
"The girls came over about the time Sue called. She told them to take me to the hot tub to relax me. Tiny, Phil, and their wives were there, so we joined them for a while in enjoying the tub."
Tiny came over carrying a big box of pastries. He said he was elected to get breakfast since Phil and Judy were still sleeping. Ruth came onto the patio with one of her see-through gowns. She sat, holding her coffee and said, "Today I'm going to get some tan back. If you want me, I'll be sunning at the pool. This working in an office everyday is hard on a tan."
Tiny offered, "You were so dark, I thought you were Deanne's sister. You're just now beginning to lose the color. A day in the sun and you'll be fine."
"You and Sue might be getting too much sun. That's how people get skin cancer you know," Glenda cautioned.
"That's why neither one of us ever stay out very long at a time. I'll get some sun, a couple of times today and tomorrow, and that should hold me over till next weekend."
Charlie came rolling over, with a smile on his face, and Shawna following him.
"What have you been up to, Charlie? You have a true shit eatin' grin on your face this morning," chided Glenda.
Charlie laughed, "My lovely little redhead just proved redheads give the best head."
Shawna whacked Charlie on the back of the head, "Shush, if you want more later, you best be nice."
"I was being nice honey, I was giving you a compliment in front of all these folks."
Al and Tom came over, saying they were on their way out to the flats near Safety Harbor. They were planning on fishing most of the day.
Shawna said that Charlie, Hank, and her were going in to finish the new truck, then finish up the bike that Charlie had been working on. She commented that she had three orders for custom bikes from more of the racing folks. These were going to be from the ground-up bikes, so it was going to be fun.
Phil and Judy finally made it up and came to soak up some coffee and Saturday morning relaxation. When Glenda asked me what was on my agenda, I smiled and said, "I'm going to clean up the cars, my bikes, straighten up anything in the house I might have messed up since you cleaned up yesterday, and get ready for my lady to hopefully come home tonight. I won't know till later, but if she decides to come home early, I want to be ready."
Tiny and Phil asked me what I thought was in our future. "I'm not much into forecasting without my crystal ball, but I see our business in five or six distinct areas. First our original rebuilds area that seems to have a long life expectancy. Second or an expansion of the first, the new large lifts rebuild unit that has taken off to a decent start, even though we haven't turned the first screw. Third would be the race car support group that is made up of the frame and sheet metal shops, and the motor shop that now houses some folks that are hell bent on giving the California bike builders some competition. Of course with those four entities you have to include the three race day trucks and now the new fiberglass shop. Then there is the new equipment sales operation that has just been too wild to even consider it lasting forever, but that we'll ride as long as we can. That entity, once primed has provided us with the money to almost all of our expansion.
"Without the key people in each group, it would be impossible to keep up with everything that's going on. Hopefully, some of us will come up with new marketing ideas that we can experiment with. But right this second, I think we are in a great position to sit back and let the business take us where it will. Let's just enjoy the fruits of our efforts to date."
Phil commented, "You're probably right. We've grown so darn fast that it's been tough to hire and train enough people to handle the traffic we are creating. We do need a breather to catch up."
Tiny was smiling and almost laughing, "What do you want to bet, Stevie boy has something in the back of his mind right this second that will eat up more of our cash flow, but create more at the same time. So far every time I transfer a hundred dollars out to our money market account, I transfer back fifty to spend on something new. Don't hold your breath, Phil, but just wait for it."
"I do have an idea and a couple of questions that we might look into." I said, thinking of the random thoughts I've had about Sue's business.
"See, I told you he had something going. You didn't even have to wait for it."
"I'm not that bad, Tiny, but I would like to look into the TransTee building across the street. I understand they lost a major contract for a clothing company, and the place isn't doing well."
Phil raised an eyebrow at me, "What in the world would you do with a clothes manufacturing company?"
Tiny jumped in, "You shouldn't ask, but I bet I have an idea of what he would do."
"You are probably right about what you are thinking, Tiny. Sue's manufacturer is taking more and more of her profits because they can't produce enough in house and have subcontracted out so much. We take up part of their production time now with our very popular coveralls. If we had our own plant, we could manufacture or own coveralls, make our own T-shirts, and make a lot of Sue's clothing. We could even resell some of her products on our race day trucks. Just look into what the building would cost to buy or lease, and if the production management is any good, how good the equipment is, and what their maximum production could be? Could they produce ladies finer garments?"
"I'm ahead of you boss," Tiny bragged. "I know how much the building and land is. I know the condition of the equipment is all pretty new. I know the production management is supposed to be good, but a little raw with their people. Whether they can transition into better garments is a big question, but you will have to talk to someone else about that."
"Do we have enough to buy the business as it stands right now?"
"Yes and no. Yes, we can buy the building and equipment. No, we don't have enough cash flow to support the large payroll and material requirement that a company like that will demand."
"We paid off the most recent loan from Sue, right?"
"I wrote the check yesterday morning that actually pays off the building and most of the modifications we have made. The only thing that won't be included will be the new fiberglass area you are creating. We don't have any good numbers on what the cash flow requirement will be on that shop, or what the potential return is going to be."
"If a couple of those big government bids come in this next week like we expect, that will easily cover the fiberglass project and would give us some operating capital for a new venture."
Phil looked a little sullen, "I don't know anything about selling clothing. All I know about that business is that US manufacturers can't seem to compete. Why would you think you can compete in that market?"
"The first reason, Phil, is that most people don't get with the people that count in order to encourage them to do their best. They push for speed and more speed, then let someone sell their mistakes as seconds. I think that the first thing we would do is to work with the seamstresses to make sure they take their time and do a perfect job the first time, no waste, no seconds, no returns. I may not be cut out to be a garment manufacturer, but I would want to treat our workers as fair there as we do in the businesses we have now."
"Another reason that you wouldn't have to worry about it is, Sue handles the selling. Sue and the girls handle most of the creativity and design. All I want to do is to have a place to get her work done, and to make some items for us. We could probably use up the total plant's productivity making NASCAR T-shirts, but that would be a very dull job. We could use up a lot of the plant's productivity for our coveralls, and possibly other work clothes, but my original thought was to use twenty-five percent of the productivity for our stuff and seventy-five percent for Sue's. I think that we would work with her current manufacturer so that we either bought them out or formed some kind of partnership with them. The idea is to keep the manufacturing within the family, instead of farming any of it out."
Phil looked mystified, "When do you have time to come up with all of this stuff. I see you all over the place in our plant listening, looking, directing here and there, selling on the phone, and helping the different departments, but I don't see you sitting somewhere with your eyes closed, coming up with ideas."
Tiny came to my rescue, "Guys like Steve all have the idea machines working in the background while they are doing something else. The background machines just keep pumping out questions that they find answers to, and those answers usually create business opportunities."
"Whatever," sighed Phil while shaking his head.
"Phil, you are a very imaginative guy, coming up with so many ways for you and your people to sell more equipment. Those are ideas. Where do you come up with them? They just happen, don't they?"
"You're right, ideas are ideas, it's just that yours are so diverse and risky, but all seem to turn out great. I'm not jealous, just amazed."
"Anyway, Tiny, I want to pursue this, and we'll get Sue involved to help finance the deal if we have to. But perhaps we can milk good old Phil for some monster sales so we can just do this whole thing in-house." Phil smiled, "I'll think on it today and tomorrow and see if there are some quick money deals we might be able to take advantage of."
"Phil, in your opinion, do we handle the world's best stationary generators, you know, like back up generators for big buildings?"
"We sure do. Construction engineers the world over specify our products."
"I know you work on several foreign accounts, but we haven't shipped anything to Dubai yet. Those oil countries are building like crazy, and I'm sure they are putting in big generators for backup power. How about getting us a multi-lingual guy to corner that market. Since we have the best product, why not help them buy the best product? If they are not using backup generators, then we need to sell them on the idea as a safety precaution, if nothing else."
Phil nodded his approval, "I can do that. Onan used to have a guy that traveled back and forth to Saudi. I'll find him and get him to start working for us. That ought to be worth about ten to fifteen mil a year. See, you did it again. We were talking about buying a garment business, then you turn right around and want me to do something simple, and completely different, that will probably net you two to three mil a year easy."
"I'm just looking for more places to sell right now. The other place that I don't see any orders from is Canada. We should consider that area as well. Phil, why not find out what we can do up there, and if it would be to our advantage to open an office up in Montreal, or somewhere convenient. We could even sell our truck bodies up there."
"I'll do that too. Judy has some Canadian relatives that might help us get started. I'll find out from our suppliers what needs to be done to sell up there."
I stood with a empty coffee cup, "Who needs some coffee?"
Phil and Tiny said they had enough and that they were going to go to Circuit City to look at televisions. Judy, Ruth, and Glenda had already taken off for the pool. I went inside to see what needed to be done to clean up. Just a couple of cups were dirty, so I washed them out by hand and cleaned up the coffee area. I went through the house to make sure the place was straight, ending up in the bedroom. I changed the sheets on the bed, making sure the place was dusted and ready for my queen. I replaced the towels in the bathroom and wiped down the shower, making sure the rest of the room was straight.
I stuffed the sheets and the towels in the washing machine, then went outside to wash my truck and Sue's car. While washing Sue's car, the phone rang. It was Sue. She was ready for the Saturday show and would call when it was done. At this point, because of all the customers for their new products, she didn't think they would be able to get back tonight. She said it was funny how they had created the new styles for their own catalog, but have sold more to other retailers than they could possibly sell from it. Sue said she would call me late in the afternoon. We did the 'I love you' thing and she hung up.
I had cleaned up the big bike and when I finished the shovel, I put on some jeans and a support T-shirt and rode over to the clubhouse. As Hap had promised, the gate guy swung the gate wide to let me in. I parked where directed, then wandered around to find Hap and Bear together. They got me an icy beer and asked me what I was up to.
"I'm here to have some of your weekend chili. My stomach told me it was getting close to lunch time, so I decided to come by to taste test your brew."
Bear haw-hawed, "That's the way a biker begs for food, all right."
We three ate chili, sitting among a bunch of scantily clad ladies, not wearing much but sure commanding a lot of attention. When I looked at Bear and nodded toward the ladies, he offered, "These are a bunch of dancers that were invited to come by today to dress up the party. We have another club going to be here in a little bit, so we thought some extra entertainment would be in order. If you want some of this stuff, there's a big bucket of rubbers over there. Grab a handful and pick out a couple of these babes and take 'em to the bunkhouse. There ought to be a free mattress in there."
"The chili is all the hot stuff I'm looking for today. Thanks for the offer though. Well, guys, have a good time, I'm going to get some wind in my face. See you all later. Maybe I'll stop by tonight if you think this is still going to be happening then."
Hap slapped me on the back, "Be safe and come back later. Who knows how much fun we'll be having by then? You're always welcome. Don't be a stranger."
I rode over to Big Jim's to find out they were having a pig roast. I bought a beer, paid the fee, and ate some roast pork with some black beans and yellow rice. Double D was in front of the bar, instead of behind it, with a long face. She was lonely because her guy was working till eleven and would probably be too tired to want to go out then.
The pool table was inviting, so I put up my quarter to get a place in the rotation on one of the tables, and had another beer before it was my turn. The only thing the guys played on the small coin tables was eight ball. I was able to stay at the table through five games before a guy ran the balls out after I broke and sunk a few balls. That's the way bar pool is, someone is always better than you are, or at least they get all the rolls.
I rode over to the Harley dealership and chatted briefly with Jim, then looked at new bikes for a few minutes. I really didn't feel like doing anything else, so I rode over to the shop to see how Shawna and Hank were doing on the truck and trailer.
It was done, done and beautiful. The cartoons depicted multiple scenes of Busch drivers' caricatures with their cars. On the trailer were giant decals, or what were painted replicas of decals, of the various sponsors. In the center on each side among all of sponsor decals was our giant S&S logo. The truck looked really sharp.
When I arrived there, they were all in the shop working on the finishing touches to the bike Charlie had been working on. This was going to be another showpiece that would be paraded around the tracks to show off to their peers. Pretty soon, Shawna's and Charlie's names were going to be very well known. I oohed and aahed over their work, then walked over to check out what the contractor was up to.
He had moved the paint booth to be outside the hundred foot wide space on the other side of the outside partition. The booth was only thirty by thirty so it didn't take a lot of space from storing completed units. There were large, tall overhead doors between the rebuild area and the Fiberglass shop then on into the paint booth. The fiber glass shop was built into three areas, the layout area, the mold area, and the grinding and finishing area. The grinding and finishing area had giant overhead exhaust fans with big filters that could be easily cleaned. In the front of the building was the office and bathroom area. It looked like all that had to be done was some finish work on the drywall, then painting.
I wasn't needed, so I rode back to the house, wiped down the bike and put it away. I went onto the patio to join Tiny, Phil, Ruth, and Judy as they drank beer, snacked, and watched the Busch race. As it neared five, Tiny started the big grille at the bar and began loading wings and chicken tenders.
Within an hour, the patio was pretty full of our regulars, along with Deanne, who was still hanging out with Debbie. Sandy and Mandy, with Bob and Drew, had come. Tom and Al were back from fishing and ready to eat. Even Abe and Alice showed up. Charlie, Shawna, and Hank had returned from the shop and had showered, ready to enjoy the evening.
We had a bunch of raw veggies and dips to go with the wings, along with some French fries. It was a perfect Saturday evening meal. A couple of card games started up, accompanied by a Devil Rays baseball game on the big TV.
Sue called about nine, saying they were already in the room waiting for some room service food. They were exhausted and ready to pack up and get out of there first thing in the morning. She said they were scheduled to leave LaGuardia at nine and be in Tampa about one thirty. When I asked about the show, Sue said that it was spectacular, or at least the response for their new styles was. She said to hold on to my chair, as she had a big surprise for me when she got home. When she said the food was there, she was going to eat and get ready for bed so they could be at the airport early. They all had all of the New York fashion scene they could handle. The guys talked to their wives briefly and hung up. We were all looking forward to our wives coming home.
Jim asked me if I wanted to go for a ride. I did, but not enough to really want to get out in traffic. He felt the same, so he headed home to sack out with the TV, while I cleaned up the patio to get ready for bed. Tiny, Ruth, Phil, and Judy invited me to go with them to the hot tub, but I said I was fine tonight and just going to go to bed.
I locked up, then went to bed with the TV in there on. My eyes were drooping when I heard a car coming down the lane with its motor racing. I was jumping out of bed reaching for my pants when I heard tires sliding and a crash right outside the house.
Now what?
I was out of bed in an instant looking for my cloths. I finished putting on my pants, pulled my T-shirt back on and slipped on my shoes. On reflex, I pulled my 9-millimeter out of the drawer, along with two clips, stuffing the clips in one back pocket and the piece the other.
The front door was closest, so I went out to hear sirens coming from the front of the park. I rounded the house closest to the lane to find an old Camaro smashed into my truck. The front of the Carmaro was dead center into the passenger side of my truck. Out in the street, behind the Camaro, was another pickup truck with a guy standing on the far side of the hood. Another guy was reaching into the Camaro, trying to get something or do something. When I hollered to see what was going on, the guy on the other side of the pickup truck raised what looked like a sawed-off shotgun. I got down and pulled back from the side of the house to shield me. I got low to see if I could get out closer to the Camaro. I couldn't see either guy, which should mean they couldn't see me. I slipped around to my pickup, went to the back of it, and peeked around to see what was going on.
Now both guys were trying to pull the door open on the Camaro. The sawed-off shotgun was lying on the ground at their feet. I could see the Camaro driver slumped over the wheel. The one guy had what looked like a nickel-plated revolver sticking from his back waistband. Making sure there was no one else around the pickup, I stood and said quietly, "Put your hands above your heads. Move very slowly and do not try anything stupid."
They both froze for a second then began turning toward me. The one guy looked like his knees were bending so I said louder, "Put your hands above your heads or I will shoot you."
"And so will I," came the voice of my redheaded, heroine, neighbor.
The second voice was enough to make the one guy reach of his revolver. I squeezed off a round intending to scare him more than hurt him. Instead, my aim was sloppy enough and he was turning sideways to me that the round entered his chest on one side and lodged inside of him. The force of the round jolted him back and he slid down to his knees. The other guy stopped going down after the shotgun as Shawna put three quick rounds down around his feet.
I waved Shawna over to me and told her to put her gun away before the cops got there, so only one of us would have to give up a gun. She nodded but kept the guy covered anyway.
Martin was at the side of the patio hollering to see if we were all right. I told him to use the phone on the patio and call 911 for the police and an ambulance. I told Shawna to take my support T-shirt inside and find me another of any kind. She understood, ran back to her trailer, and came back with a huge T-shirt of Charlie's that I quickly put on as she held my piece in her hands.
A county sheriff's car finally came up the lane, slowly, with the lights flashing. He came to a stop, with his lights on me, and stepped out telling me to put my gun down. I told him to get closer so he could cover the guy standing next to the car.
He finally walked over closer to me. I pointed out that there was a sawed-off shotgun on the ground and a pistol in the pants of the guy lying on the ground. I laid my gun down on the ground and asked him if he had called for help yet. He said no, he didn't need any help yet. That was a strange answer under the circumstances, so I asked him if he had called an ambulance, as there was a guy in the car that was hurt too.
When the deputy said, "I don't need no fucking help, just shut up and let me do this job."
Uh oh, something was radically wrong. I could see that Martin had heard what was said. He was not in the deputy's range of sight, but he could see Shawna and me. He held up his old revolver for me to see then went back to the side of the house.
We could hear sirens coming from a distance. This rattled the deputy. He pushed the guy who had been standing with his hands up to the side, making him fall to the ground, and then tried to pull open the car door. With the deputy's full attention on the car, the guy that had been pushed to the ground moved toward the guy I had shot, reaching for the gun in the waist of his pants.
Shawna and I dropped to the ground at the same time picking up my automatic, then I stood in time to watch the guy pull the gun from the downed guy's pants. I hollered at the deputy, but he didn't stop trying to open the car door.
As the guy brought the gun up toward the deputy, I shot, hitting him in the shoulder of the arm that had been holding the gun. The noise of the gun brought the deputy to his senses and he turned to me, pulling his gun back out.
He was just getting his piece clear of his holster when two sheriff's cars slid to a stop behind his. I put the piece down again as the deputy by the car looked between me and the two were now approaching on foot. The deputy by the car kept bringing his gun up looking like he was going to shoot, so I pushed Shawna down and went down behind the bad guy's truck at the same time.
We heard the gun go off and a round skimmed over the side of the bed where we had been. I grabbed my 9-millimeter again and pulled Shawna around to the front of the pickup. I peeked around to see the deputy who had shot at us look frantically around at the two other deputies, who were looking confused.
We slipped behind my pickup. I told Shawna to run over to the patio and stay behind Martin. When she was gone I hollered, "Make that guy put his piece down and I'll come out. I want you to call your sergeant or supervisor right now, this is something he needs to handle anyway."
"Fuck you, I'll handle this. You two get back in your cars and get out of here. I'm in charge and I'll handle this, now get."
"No way Fred, this is a bad crime scene, you have what two, three people down. Put your piece away, we have the scene under control."
I could hear one of the deputies radioing from his lapel microphone. He was calling for back up and a supervisor with multiple men down.
"God dammit, I told you I would handle this, now get out of here while I finish this."
The single deputy went around the other side of the car, then went headfirst into the car obviously looking for something. He came back out of the car holding a package and paper grocery sack. He gave a look at me, then back to the two deputies.
"Move your fucking cars, I gotta go report in. Move or I'll ram your fucking cars. Hurry!"
He was saying this, holding the bundle and bag in one hand and reaching for his gun with the other.
I had been moving from behind my pickup to the outside of the bad guy's pickup. When I saw the deputy reach for his gun again, I decided it was time to do something, anything. I don't run fast, but it was fast enough that when he heard me and started to turn, I hit him with my shoulder like a football player does. It was good thing he wasn't that big, because he folded from the force of the tackle.
As soon as he was on the ground, I grabbed his piece and slid it on the ground toward the two deputies who were finally coming out of their fog. They both reached for their guns while I kept a knee in the downed deputy's back and fumbled getting his cuffs from the holder. By the time the two deputies got to me, I had the crazed deputy cuffed and was standing up.
Am ambulance, a fire truck, and three more sheriff's cars, were pulling up at that moment, so the deputies both put their guns away and stood waiting. When the paramedics came up I told them what I knew of the three men. A fireman came up to help the paramedics. My good friend, the Captain, came up to me with his hand out, "What are you up to this time, Steve."
"I don't know, sir, this guy on the ground is one of yours but I think he might not be right. Look in the package and bag. He was willing to be pretty crazy over whatever is in there. I motioned toward the two deputies that had come first, you might want to get these two to sit down for a few minutes. They are both in some kind of shock over this."
The captain directed one of the newly arrived officers to help the two out. When I pointed out the cuffed deputy's gun he had the other guy pick it up. When the sergeant opened the package, it was some kind of compacted gray stuff. He tasted a pinch then spit. Next, he looked into the bag then showed me inside. There were bundles of hundred dollar bills.
The captain used his portable radio microphone and called in, asking for an FDLE and a DEA rep as soon as possible. He had one of the deputies put the cuffed deputy into a car after reading him his rights.
Then he turned to me and said, "Want to start at the beginning?"
"Sure, let's go to the patio and sit down. I don't know about you, but this is getting dumber by the minute. Go get your two deputies and I'll get them some water. Meet me on the patio."
The Captain brought the two young deputies onto the patio and had them sit at the big table. He and I sat at the little table where he put his tape recorder and pad to write on. Glenda was in her robe, hustling around getting the two young deputies some water, in addition to getting the Captain and me a cup of coffee.
I went through the entire, unbelievable, story. Shawna was sitting inside on a stool by the counter so the Captain waved at her to come out. He said gently, "I should have known you would be involved in this somehow. Glad neither of you was hurt. So where is the gun you shot those two with?"
I stood up and turned my back to the Captain then raised the shirt to show him the piece. He pulled it out, dropped the clip the pumped the chambered round out catching it in mid air. "So you shot twice and the deputy shot once. I thought I saw three more casings out there. We'll have to look."
Shawna spoke up, "I shot into the ground at the guy before Steve shot him. Everything was going to be okay, till the cop just pushed him down so he was right by his downed buddy's gun. I didn't shoot anyone this time."
"And where is your gun, young lady?"
"Steve told me to take it home so it wouldn't have to be carted away again. It takes you guys a couple of months before we get it back."
"It's a good thing I have the recorder off, or I'd have to take your piece for evidence again." He took the clip that he had taken from the gun, pulled three rounds out, and handed them to me with a wink.
"Let me make sure we find that pistol out there. I'll be back in a second."
A few minutes later the Captain came back in with a guy wearing an FDLE cap (Florida Department of Law Enforcement). The Captain introduced me as the guy who had helped one of his men a while back and the one who had kept the errant deputy from shooting two of his other men tonight. We went over the same story again talking to his recorder this time. The FDLE man told me that the DEA guy said the bad guys were all interested in two kilos of pure heroin. There must have been a rip off, since the money and the drugs were in one place.
The driver of the car wasn't dead, but was knocking on the door. The guy that I shot in the chest was lucky too, and was on the way to the hospital. The guy that was shot in the shoulder was in pretty bad shape but would probably recover, and finally, the deputy that I had tackled, had two broken ribs.
I did my usual and asked that they try to keep my name out of the papers. I didn't need to be advertising that I was playing Roy Rogers out in the trailer park.
That got a laugh from them but they said that it would depend on timing, just like before.
A deputy came onto the patio to ask me if I wanted my truck towed to a repair shop? He said that as hard as it was hit, the truck might be totaled. I went inside the house, got a Publix plastic bag then went out to my truck and took out the few personal things in it. I checked the bed to make sure there was nothing in it then told the driver to take it to the dealer. The insurance company would take it from there.
When I got back to the patio, Glenda was feeding the Captain breakfast. When I looked at her strange, Glenda said it was already five-thirty, so she might as well start feeding everyone that was still up. Shawna was serving Martin and Charlie, who had made his way across the street.