Chapter 15

My first night back in the cabin where I lived, I found myself cleaning 40 days worth of dust and grime from the counters and dishes. Open cabinets did that. I managed that while trying to figure out how best to hunt down bail jumpers. I started with some basic assumptions. Neither Lucas, nor I were every going to intimidate the bad guys with our looks. If we intended to do this and be successful, we would have to outsmart the prey.

I remembered the story of my friend the Air Policeman who had to pick up a deserter. The man was huge and he had done two tours as a combat air controller in Iraq. After that second tour, he decided he had done his part. I tended to agree with him, but the powers that be sent one of my friends after the giant of a man. The kid they sent was young, and slight of build, but he was from West Virginia. He had grown up hard in and around the coal mines. He knew no fear it seemed, but he was also smart.

He waited till the giant went to the bathroom after having several beers in a local beer joint. Then while giant had his hands full so to speak, my friend walked up and stuck a pistol in the back of his neck. The giant zipped up then put his hands behind his back where my friend cuffed them. I asked my friend why he had done such a cowardly thing. He said, "Okay it wasn't the John Wayne thing to do, but it kept me from getting my ass whipped, so it was the Norman Brice thing to do."

I decided that I needed to start thinking of the Norman Brice thing to do. If I couldn't be tough enough, then I had to be smart enough. Either that or plan on using my accident insurance often. After my adventure with the bike and the small town doctor, I decided I would give being smarter my best shot.

Since there was going to be a chill in the air that night, according to the TV. Yes, before I left, I had satellite TV installed. Mostly it was for the news and weather, since the shows were mostly crap. As I was saying, since there was going to be a chill, I fired up the oil heater which had come with the cabin. I wasn't sure how safe it was, but I had to try it sometime.

I followed the directions on the back of the stove and sure enough it began to put out heat. Since it sat in one corner of the one room cabin, I figured I needed some kind of blower for the small heater. A quick search of the one standing cabinet revealed a small plastic box fan. Since it had a carry handle and since there was a big ass nail over the heater, I figured that was the spot. Most likely it was the place the previous tenant had used for it.

A half hour after I started the heater, I had to turn it down to its lowest possible setting. While I drank coffee from the Mister Coffee machine, I began asking myself questions, trying to decide how to outsmart the bad guys.

If you came to my door, who would you have to be for me to cooperate? Someone I didn't fear for sure. If I was in the wind, I would really be careful who I trusted. That made trying to find a way to con the bad guys even harder. There was no way I could pretend to be a friend, since obviously the bad guys would know their friends.

If not a friend, then what kind of stranger would seem harmless? Even better, what kind of stranger would I trust and want to help? I was trying to remember who all I had known that fell into that category. At that point, I remembered the UPS delivery of my pistol from California. It would be due a couple of days down the road. If they showed up at the office with it, I would expect Ed to sign for it, or to tell them where to find me, if the driver insisted.

Since I ran a kind of delivery service already, I could use that to my advantage. What I needed to do was to set myself up as a courier service. Something like, "Priority Messenger, when it's that important." Not a bad slogan for the outside of my van. It could also help me deliver my court papers. Not a bad idea, I thought.

I did a quick Internet search and found that it wouldn't cost more than a hundred bucks to have signs made for the minivan. Not a bad investment if I helped me with my real business as well. Not only that, but best of all it was deductible.

I did not want Lucas running around with a gun, so what should I arm him with. Taser, of course, there was no question about it. And gas, since I couldn't get nerve gas, pepper spray would have to do. A bean bag shotgun would probably be okay. He might get me sued with it, but maybe he wouldn't land me in jail.

Then there was the bulletproof vest and radio equipment we would need. I know the thug, as I had come to think of the competition, didn't spend his money on toys, but we were going to be a kinder, gentler, bounty hunting agency. That pretty much gave me a starting plan for the next day. So I could now either put a pot pie in the microwave or go to the Cop Out.

"Holy Shit, look who's here," Blevins said. He hugged me with what I felt was genuine warmth.

"Hey, Blevins, did you miss me?" I asked, "Or is that a gun in your pocket?"

"You bet, it's been way too quiet around here, and it's a gun, but it shoots blanks."

"Well, hell, put a dollar in the Juke Box and I'll dance on the table."

"Would you really?" he asked.

"Yes, but after a couple of minutes you would tell me to get the hell off that table."

"Ah, but would you take your clothes off?"

"I don't know, Blevins, how does this crowd tip?"

"Really awful, not that I know from experience. One of the waitresses told me."

I nodded. "So, Blevins, how did that kid you sent me make out?"