Poverty Hill
Copyright© 2026 by Asa Strong
Chapter 5
It only took me about ten minutes to reach town, but it were long enough for me to really work up a head of steam. I was pissed!
I parked my truck in the no parking zone in front of the sheriff’s sub-station office.
Then I grabbed the deputy’s weapon, where I’d laid it on the seat when I got in the truck, and headed for the office door.
I threw open the door and heard the doorknob hit the wall. I really didn’t give a rat’s ass if it busted the wall or not.
Just my luck, Dave Sprague, the fat assed county sheriff, was sitting with Mark. Both turned my way when they heard the door ratchet off the wall.
Mark’s face turned white, and it took me a second to realize I had the deputy’s pistol in my hand. I dropped the clip on his desk and ratcheted the slide back to clear the chamber. No shell. Hell the deputy was nuts, she’d left an empty chamber. That’s a quick way to die if’n you get caught unawares.
I sat the gun down on Mark’s desk and said, “Here, next time you give a weapon to someone, you might take the time to show ‘em how to use it first.”
Mark looked up at me and started to say somethin’ when I heard a shout behind me, “Arrest him, he assaulted me and resisted arrest.”
I turned to see the deputy come chargin’ into the room. She looked like she could spit nails. I must a pissed her off a bit.
“Hold on!” The sheriff shouted as he stood up.
I grabbed a chair and sat down and leaned it back against the wall; might as well let this rodeo play out.
The sheriff turned towards the woman deputy and asked, “Deputy Santos, you care to tell me what’s going on?”
Her face was all red and you could see her tryin’ to get herself under control. Finally she got a handle on it and answered.
“Yes sir, I stopped this man about ten miles outside of town for a speeding violation. When I asked for his driver’s license he refused. Then he got out of his vehicle and assaulted me and took my weapon.”
I heard Mark groan and when I looked at him he was sittin’ there shaking his head and tryin’ not to laugh.
The sheriff looked at me and asked, “Well Chipin, were you speeding?”
I looked up from where I was sittin’, tipped my hat back on my head and answered, “How the hell would I know, damn speedometer’s been broke for a year or more. Besides, you tell me how you keep a truck from pickin’ up speed goin’ down hill haulin’ a double horse trailer.”
The new deputy shouted, “That don’t make any difference. Besides you’re supposed to keep your safety equipment in order.”
I looked up at her and answered, “Yup, and I might be able to do it if your cheap assed sheriff here would pay me what he owes.”
This were getting’ to be fun, deputy Santos was pissed, the sheriff was fuming and Mark was sittin’ behind his desk tryin’ even harder to keep from laughin’.
The sheriff started to say something, but before he could Mark got there first. “Lisa,” he said to the female deputy, “just how fast was Amos going?”
She answered him, “fifty-four in a fifty mile zone.”
The sheriff looked at her like she had three heads, “You stopped him for going four miles over the speed limit?”
“He was breaking the law.”
Mark couldn’t hold it no more. He started laughin’. This didn’t sit too well with Lisa; she got red in the face and started to puff herself up.
The sheriff broke in at this point, “Deputy, we don’t give speeding tickets in this county for going four miles over the speed limit. It’s bad for business.”
Mark picked up her pistol from his desk top, checked the chamber, and then released the slide. He picked up the clip and slammed it home.
“Here, take your gun and get back out on the road. We’ll take care of this situation.”
“You’re going to let him go, aren’t you?”
The sheriff answered, “Let it go, deputy and get back to your job.”
Lisa grabbed her gun and shoved it in her holster. It looked like she wanted to say something more, but didn’t. She turned around and walked out of the office, slammin’ the door as she left.
After she left, nobody said anything for a few seconds, and then Mark piped up, “You know Amos, you got a real talent for pissin’ people off. You know damn well that Judge McCarthy would have thrown the whole damn thing out of court. Besides, I doubt it would have got that far in the first place.”
He was right and I knew it. “Yeah, your pro’lly right. But I weren’t in no mood for being fooled with. I’m tired and need to sleep.”
The sheriff looked at me kinda funny and said, “What you been up to now, Amos.”
“Hell Dave, I’ve just spent the last few days with Jim Breacher’s kids. The damn fool still had cattle up on the peak. Seems he broke his leg and asked me to bring ‘em back down.”
Now I’ve know Dave Sprague off an on for most of my life. He weren’t from here in the valley. His folks come from just west of Steamboat Springs. He weren’t all that bad a guy, but was one of those that were always on the lookout for hisself. I was wonderin’ why he was up here in the first place. It weren’t like him to come up here just for a social visit.
Sheriff Sprague nodded his head in understanding and then said, “Amos, Mark and I were just talking about you, before you made your grand entrance. We need your help with the case we have on that body you found.”
He now had my attention. Anytime Sprague asked for help, you had to believe there was more to it than met the eye.
I nodded my head, “OK, what’s the story here then?”
Mark stood up and walked over to one of the filing cabinets and pulled out a yellow file folder.
When he sat back down at his desk he opened the file folder and read a few pages. I could tell he was nervous. I knew right there that I was being set up for something. I could read Mark like a book.
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