later, though.”
Claudia smiled. Francis remained stone-faced.
Chapter Fifteen
The cops never pursued either car. After the first shot, all of the patrons in the diner ducked under the tables. Out of the twenty-one customers only four were younger than thirty; however, their good eyesight was hampered by being situated in the back of the restaurant with no window to look out.
The town’s sheriff spat out tobacco juice as he stared the manager in the eye. “Do you even know how many people were involved?” he asked, unable to keep the disgust out of his voice.
Droplets of sweat gleamed on the manager’s brow. “No, sir. You see, I was busy telling everyone inside to get down.”
“Uh-huh.” The sheriff spat out more brown juice, and then plucked a piece of tobacco off his tongue and wiped it on his trousers. “Did you get a look at any of the suspects when they were in your fine establishment?”
The look of derision on the sheriff’s face scared the manager. “Uh, I was in the kitchen. You see, Wally, he writes restaurant reviews for the local paper, showed up today. I was supervising the preparation of his meal. I wanted our place to make an impression. Wally’s paper reaches 10,000 people.” The manager spread his arms, indicating the sprawling land around them. Along the horizon there were some specks that could have been houses, but the manager knew customers were out there, somewhere.
Al’s Diner was on the outskirts of town, and the owners hoped it would corner the highway crowd. Mostly, though, the people from the surrounding area only flocked to the diner on Saturdays, to escape the boredom of home. A ten-mile trip to Al’s was like going to the big city.
“Well, I guess you did make an impression, didn’t you?” The sheriff walked away in disgust.
Three of his officers stood by their patrol cars. “Did any of those people see anything?”
All three officers shook their heads.
The sheriff looked around. “Not one saw the customers while they were inside? No one noticed any strangers?” When he questioned the waitress she was too distraught and couldn’t remember anything.
A woman in her late forties approached. In her heyday, Hildy had been a knockout—long legs, blond hair, blue eyes, and perky breasts that hated being contained by a bra. But after marrying at nineteen and popping out three kids, her body filled out—and it kept filling. Even her muumuu now bulged around her waist and buttocks.
“You see, Sheriff, young Joslynn ran off last night with Johnny.”
The sheriff huffed. “So, we’ve been expecting that for months. Joslynn’s been dying to get her hands on the Jurgen’s money.”
“She didn’t run away with the youngest Johnny.” Hildy didn’t give more information. She was bursting at the seams, and she wanted the sheriff to ask for more. It wasn’t every day that she had such juicy gossip.
“Are you saying she ran off with Johnny’s father?” Lucky bastard, thought the sheriff. The lawman had been married for twenty years, and after five years of marriage, his wife had ballooned out like all the other women in this goddamn state. And now Johnny’s father was banging a twenty-year old hussy with the most delectable titties.
“Nope,” said Hildy.
“But you just said she ran off with a Johnny. Which one is it?”
Hildy bubbled with the tittle-tattle, and the words burst out of her like water gushing from a dam. “One-legged Johnny.” A smile spread across her chubby face, and her eyes twinkled.
The sheriff backpedaled. “One-legged Johnny!” he sputtered. “Why, he’s got to be seventy years old! And with a fake leg to boot.”
Usually, the sheriff didn’t bother to point out the obvious, but he felt justified in this situation. The deputies whistled their admiration.
“The way I see it,” said Hildy. “Is that One-legged Johnny didn’t want to see his grandson throw his future away on a gold-digging hussy, so he up and wooed the girl
Claudia smiled. Francis remained stone-faced.
Chapter Fifteen
The cops never pursued either car. After the first shot, all of the patrons in the diner ducked under the tables. Out of the twenty-one customers only four were younger than thirty; however, their good eyesight was hampered by being situated in the back of the restaurant with no window to look out.
The town’s sheriff spat out tobacco juice as he stared the manager in the eye. “Do you even know how many people were involved?” he asked, unable to keep the disgust out of his voice.
Droplets of sweat gleamed on the manager’s brow. “No, sir. You see, I was busy telling everyone inside to get down.”
“Uh-huh.” The sheriff spat out more brown juice, and then plucked a piece of tobacco off his tongue and wiped it on his trousers. “Did you get a look at any of the suspects when they were in your fine establishment?”
The look of derision on the sheriff’s face scared the manager. “Uh, I was in the kitchen. You see, Wally, he writes restaurant reviews for the local paper, showed up today. I was supervising the preparation of his meal. I wanted our place to make an impression. Wally’s paper reaches 10,000 people.” The manager spread his arms, indicating the sprawling land around them. Along the horizon there were some specks that could have been houses, but the manager knew customers were out there, somewhere.
Al’s Diner was on the outskirts of town, and the owners hoped it would corner the highway crowd. Mostly, though, the people from the surrounding area only flocked to the diner on Saturdays, to escape the boredom of home. A ten-mile trip to Al’s was like going to the big city.
“Well, I guess you did make an impression, didn’t you?” The sheriff walked away in disgust.
Three of his officers stood by their patrol cars. “Did any of those people see anything?”
All three officers shook their heads.
The sheriff looked around. “Not one saw the customers while they were inside? No one noticed any strangers?” When he questioned the waitress she was too distraught and couldn’t remember anything.
A woman in her late forties approached. In her heyday, Hildy had been a knockout—long legs, blond hair, blue eyes, and perky breasts that hated being contained by a bra. But after marrying at nineteen and popping out three kids, her body filled out—and it kept filling. Even her muumuu now bulged around her waist and buttocks.
“You see, Sheriff, young Joslynn ran off last night with Johnny.”
The sheriff huffed. “So, we’ve been expecting that for months. Joslynn’s been dying to get her hands on the Jurgen’s money.”
“She didn’t run away with the youngest Johnny.” Hildy didn’t give more information. She was bursting at the seams, and she wanted the sheriff to ask for more. It wasn’t every day that she had such juicy gossip.
“Are you saying she ran off with Johnny’s father?” Lucky bastard, thought the sheriff. The lawman had been married for twenty years, and after five years of marriage, his wife had ballooned out like all the other women in this goddamn state. And now Johnny’s father was banging a twenty-year old hussy with the most delectable titties.
“Nope,” said Hildy.
“But you just said she ran off with a Johnny. Which one is it?”
Hildy bubbled with the tittle-tattle, and the words burst out of her like water gushing from a dam. “One-legged Johnny.” A smile spread across her chubby face, and her eyes twinkled.
The sheriff backpedaled. “One-legged Johnny!” he sputtered. “Why, he’s got to be seventy years old! And with a fake leg to boot.”
Usually, the sheriff didn’t bother to point out the obvious, but he felt justified in this situation. The deputies whistled their admiration.
“The way I see it,” said Hildy. “Is that One-legged Johnny didn’t want to see his grandson throw his future away on a gold-digging hussy, so he up and wooed the girl
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