Chapter 70

I managed to drag my lazy ass to the local Hardee's for a biscuit. I always take my own coffee in my huge delta cup. You know the kind shaped like a mercury space capsule. It is only partly because I am miserly. I like my coffee better than theirs.

Sunday morning is quiet in our town. I have never figure out how it is possible, but there is no 'before church' traffic to amount to anything. After church the roads are jammed for a half hour at least. So how the fuck, do those people get to church is my question. It's a mystery to be sure.

It was after nine before I left the restaurant. I had three hours to kill before I met with Lucas. I tried to think of anything that the bikes needed. I had almost a full gallon of premix, so that wasn't an issue. What is premix you ask? Premix is a mixture of gasoline and oil used in 2 cycle engines. The engines used on both of our bikes were originally meant for some garden tool, I'm sure.

I drove to the office simply because the Mr. Coffee was there. I made coffee, then went back to the cruiser for my tool kit. When I returned to the office, I leisurely drank coffee while checking all the bolts for tightness.

When all the prep work that I could think of was done, I turned on my laptop to watch a TV show from the week before. I found a show with a couple of cute guys playing detective. It was humorous and entertaining. I am a bit of a wise ass, so I love wise guy TV. Yes bits and pieces of the dialogue find their way into my conversations. I admit I steal; I just try to steal from the best.

After the TV show Lucas still wasn't in the office, so I found the local newspaper's web site. On the website they published tidbits every day. The 'tree killer' addition came out every two weeks. I noted with distaste that I made the on line edition already. Damn there must have been a reporter sleeping with a cop to have gotten that story so fast.

I did learn the child thug's name and age. Daren Brown, age 17, almost became a victim of his own stupidity. The story was reasonably accurate. It even had a bit of a twist, since the reporter focused on Thelma's version. It did state that I was not available for comment. Thelma obviously went back to work after the robbery attempt. She would have been much easier to find for sure.

"So are you okay?" Lucas asked as he entered the office with Gwen at his side.

"I'm just fine." Mike must have given them the news, I thought.

"You know you are beginning to look like a TV show. Every time I turn around you are there with that dumb looking pistol in someone face." Lucas said it for the camera I'm sure.

"Well it's a small town. There are only a half dozen stores you can just run in for gas and potato chips. I guess we just happened to be there at the same time. Or maybe God hates me."

"I'm going with God hates you," Lucas said. "So give me the phone. I think I have the perfect ring tone. I'll put it on and you can test drive it today."

"Here," I said handing him the hated phone. "After that I have a little computer job for you. It shouldn't take long at all."

I drank coffee and ignored Gwen until she asked, "So what's it like to live a life that makes no sense at all?"

I had to think about that a long time before I answered, "You mean my life makes no sense to you. It seems to make sense to me."

"How could it. You bounce around like a ball inside a pinball machine." It was obvious that someone had been doing some script writing.

"Gwen there is framework even in a pinball game. The top, bottom, and sides keep the ball in play. There are rules, you hit a bumper and you fly off, but you can only go so far. The flippers are your salvation, sometimes they save you, but eventually they don't and you just fall off the planet. It is the same with everyone. I have just been able to stay in play longer and play harder than some of the other players. You and I play a different version of the pinball game. Mine is a faster one perhaps, but everybody plays some version of it. No one has total control of their own life.

"You believe that?" she asked.

"Yes I do," I replied not at all offended by her attempt to fit my life into her sound bite.

"Here you go," Lucas said handing me my cell phone and breaking the conversation. I had to give it to him; he knew when to jump in with both feet. "So what do you want me to check on the computer?"

"Earnest Davenport runs the Family Mission in Tryon. I need to know who he is, and what he owns. I also want to know who his employees are. He has several government grants through some kind of social services programs. The people who operate the half way house on a daily basis should be listed somewhere."

"I should have it for you in a few minutes." Lucas said going back to his computer.

When I went back to ignoring Gwen, it was a lot more personal. I had really begun to dislike her. If we were men, I would have thought that we were in a who's is bigger contest.

While Lucas worked, she kept her camera pointed at him. I was glad his was the only interesting thing happening. Then out of nowhere Gwen asked, "You would have let that kid kill the clerk wouldn't you."

"Why would I do that?" I asked bewildered.

"Just to see if he would. You really are that cold aren't you?"

"Gwen, do you have a list?" I asked smiling.

"What?" she asked instead of answering.

"Have you and Mike sat down to make a list of things that are supposed to piss me off. Are you looking for a reaction of some kind?" She didn't deny it, or answer me at all for that matter.

"Here you go boss. Davenport has no criminal record. He left Duke University ten years ago. No reason was listed for his withdrawal. I can follow up with the university tomorrow, if you want." I nodded to keep him talking. "He got involved in community action groups, when they were hiring ground troops. He drove the van for the get out the vote efforts. He even helped at the community centers. Probably how he got started working with the elderly."