the paper aside. She brought the sandwich in five minutes. After eating, I felt much more awake and decided to stop in and see Lowell. I needed to tell him about the fight, which he had probably heard about already, but more importantly I wanted to know if he'd discovered anything about Broghin and the note possibly left on Richie Harraday's corpse. And I still had to find out about Tons. There was a minor car accident at the crossroads of Monroe and Stonewall Avenues, and traffic had snarled ridiculously in the vicinity: I got the feeling that people enjoyed being involved in gridlock, it was something new to do. I had enough room to back up and turn around in a gas station and circumvent the area but nobody else followed my lead. I pulled in to the police station and saw Lowell's cruiser parked out front.
The central heating control to the building must've been stuck at full tilt. As I walked in the blast of hot air was enough to sway me in my tracks. Half a dozen deputies milled the station, guys with their sleeves rolled up and shirts unbuttoned to their navels while the two lady officers simply wore tank-tops and pony-tails. Heat must've been broken all winter. I checked the sheriff's office and saw he wasn't in.
Lowell's door was ajar, and he sat with his feet up on his desk. He stared intently out an open window, and the set of his jaw was enough to get the hair on my nape prickling. I barely caught his eye before he swung out of the chair and said, "Let's go, Johnny."
Sweat had already formed on my upper lip, and it was difficult to breathe with the heat so high. "Cripes yes, before we broil like steaks. Do we have a destination in mind this time? Aren't you going to mention how I look like hell?”
“Hell's a little high on the ladder," Lowell said. "You know Freeman Hofferball got a farm out in West Stokes?"
"Handsome fellow."
"Had himself a prize sow called Gertie broke all kinds of local records?"
"Beautiful pig."
"Slaughtered Gertie and sold the pork to Fred Mudrell owns the Maple Ridge Diner?"
"Fred's a lovely guy."
"I went in and ordered myself a lunch special of ham, string beans and sweet potatoes—Fred's got himself a wonderful cook knows how to do the sweet potatoes just right—and the waitress brought it out to me?"
"Cute chick."
"And she dropped it halfway across the room and accidentally stepped on it? At the moment your face is more on par with that , I'd have to say."
"I'm a fellow who can take a compliment," I told him. "In case you were wondering."
"C' mon ."
In the car I asked, "You been waiting for me?"
He ignored the question. "Who've you been tangling with?"
"Guy with a crew cut, swimmer's body, and a bad disposition. Crazy calm eyes, the kind that can spook you. He was at Raimi's last night, drunk and needling me into a fight."
"And you obliged him."
"It wasn't my choice, Lowell," I said.
"No, he just happened to pick a tussle with you out of everybody in a crowded bar."
"I didn't go looking for it."
"I'm sure you did your damndest to persuade him differently. It's not like you to make an asshole with a mad-on blow his goddamn lid."
"I didn't offer him an olive branch if that's what you're after. You would have?"
"Nope," he said.
"Then there we are."
We drove a similar route to the one we had the other day, meandering around the high school, the lumber yard, and the movie theater where the latest Schwarzenegger flick was playing. I didn't feel like listening to Lowell get self-righteous about my poor diplomatic relations with jackasses looking to carve me up, especially when I'd seen him break as many arms as I had. He made Schwarzenegger look like Albert Schweitzer.
"Look," I said as we doubled back towards the power station. "It's a nice view, but I've seen it before. What'd you find out about Broghin ?"
Lowell wore his agitation on his sleeve, and from the way he kept his chin down to his chest I could see he was clearly ashamed of himself for something. With the
The central heating control to the building must've been stuck at full tilt. As I walked in the blast of hot air was enough to sway me in my tracks. Half a dozen deputies milled the station, guys with their sleeves rolled up and shirts unbuttoned to their navels while the two lady officers simply wore tank-tops and pony-tails. Heat must've been broken all winter. I checked the sheriff's office and saw he wasn't in.
Lowell's door was ajar, and he sat with his feet up on his desk. He stared intently out an open window, and the set of his jaw was enough to get the hair on my nape prickling. I barely caught his eye before he swung out of the chair and said, "Let's go, Johnny."
Sweat had already formed on my upper lip, and it was difficult to breathe with the heat so high. "Cripes yes, before we broil like steaks. Do we have a destination in mind this time? Aren't you going to mention how I look like hell?”
“Hell's a little high on the ladder," Lowell said. "You know Freeman Hofferball got a farm out in West Stokes?"
"Handsome fellow."
"Had himself a prize sow called Gertie broke all kinds of local records?"
"Beautiful pig."
"Slaughtered Gertie and sold the pork to Fred Mudrell owns the Maple Ridge Diner?"
"Fred's a lovely guy."
"I went in and ordered myself a lunch special of ham, string beans and sweet potatoes—Fred's got himself a wonderful cook knows how to do the sweet potatoes just right—and the waitress brought it out to me?"
"Cute chick."
"And she dropped it halfway across the room and accidentally stepped on it? At the moment your face is more on par with that , I'd have to say."
"I'm a fellow who can take a compliment," I told him. "In case you were wondering."
"C' mon ."
In the car I asked, "You been waiting for me?"
He ignored the question. "Who've you been tangling with?"
"Guy with a crew cut, swimmer's body, and a bad disposition. Crazy calm eyes, the kind that can spook you. He was at Raimi's last night, drunk and needling me into a fight."
"And you obliged him."
"It wasn't my choice, Lowell," I said.
"No, he just happened to pick a tussle with you out of everybody in a crowded bar."
"I didn't go looking for it."
"I'm sure you did your damndest to persuade him differently. It's not like you to make an asshole with a mad-on blow his goddamn lid."
"I didn't offer him an olive branch if that's what you're after. You would have?"
"Nope," he said.
"Then there we are."
We drove a similar route to the one we had the other day, meandering around the high school, the lumber yard, and the movie theater where the latest Schwarzenegger flick was playing. I didn't feel like listening to Lowell get self-righteous about my poor diplomatic relations with jackasses looking to carve me up, especially when I'd seen him break as many arms as I had. He made Schwarzenegger look like Albert Schweitzer.
"Look," I said as we doubled back towards the power station. "It's a nice view, but I've seen it before. What'd you find out about Broghin ?"
Lowell wore his agitation on his sleeve, and from the way he kept his chin down to his chest I could see he was clearly ashamed of himself for something. With the
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