Chapter 117: Blood and Beer

"Let's go have a beer," I said to my redheaded friend, before he could speak.

"Sure why not," he said turning back to the door. We walked out together. When we were in the car, he removed the small black cylinder from his pocket, then twisted the top.

"Will that make your car safe as well?" I asked looking around the interior.

"I certainly hope so," he said shaking his head. "So where to Missy?"

"Seriously, let's go have a beer," I said. There was still time to have a drink and maybe bump into our prey.

"Sounds good to me," Martin said in agreement.

"So what did you see?" I asked.

"The brother's have plenty of security around the place. There were dogs inside an 8' high fenced in area around an old building. When I tried to get close, I set the dogs to barking, but nobody came. The brothers are obviously out somewhere. After a while, when I was sure they weren't home, I poked around outside the fence. I found their trash dump. I have a bag full of trash in the back."

"Any idea what it is?" I asked.

"Oh yeah, I have seen some of those labels before. They are making something toxic in there. It smells like rotten eggs coming from that garage or barn like thing inside the fence."

"Shit they are cooking Meth in their own backyard. These guys may be bullies, but they are stupid as well. We can drop a dime on them and they will go down for the Meth," I said. "There is one little problem with that."

"There always is, when it seems too simple," Martin said.

"They maybe smart enough to wiggle out of it. We have a lab near their house, but it might not be their property. We are gonna need to catch them cooking, since no one around here will testify."

"With those dogs, it is going to be difficult to watch the cooking shack," Martin said.

"Yes it is," I agreed.

'Oak Hill Tavern', was located inside what had once been a downtown drugstore. The owner of the tavern hadn't even bothered to change the old lunch counter. So the seats were padded round top stools, facing a low marble topped counter. The classy ice cream parlor tables and chairs were gone. They had been replaced by modern non matching booths and metal topped tables. The place was a mess, but it was a popular hangout for the locals. They didn't seem to be anything more than working stiffs out for a drink. However, I knew that looks could be deceiving.

Martin got us two beers while I found us an empty booth. The Jukebox was loud and the voices of the people had to be even more loud to be heard over it. There would be no nice quiet conversations inside the Oak Hill Tavern. Martin brought the beers, and we were each lost in our own thoughts for a few minutes.

We drank slowly since there was no way we could afford to have too many. We needed to be clear headed to deal with the Atwood boys and the TV twins. I had about decided that the thing to do was to approach the problem with a shotgun approach. We could get Mike to rig us a remote surveillance camera. Then Martin could plant it at the edge of the woods. It would be the first prong of our pitchfork.

Then we could continue with out plan to trap the Atwoods with our little scam. One of them might work, even if the other didn't. I was deep in thought about that, when I saw Martin turn serious. It is the only way I can describe the look on his face. I could tell that he was looking at something behind me. I just knew that what came next wasn't going to be much fun.

"Now what is the preacher lady doing in a beer joint?" the voice whispered in my ear. He wasn't really whispering but his face was close to my ear. It had to be unless he wanted everyone in the place to hear him.

I didn't care if they heard me, so I said in a loud voice, "Looking for souls to save. Would you like to be my first?" I pretended not to know who Thomas Atwood was.

"I don't think my soul needs saving, but I do need my dick sucked," he said.

"Well, for that I'm afraid you need someone else." I replied. I glanced over to see Martin trying hard to control his urge to just kill Thomas Atwood and move on.

"I don't think so. See you want to open a church in my town and for that you need my permission. My permission isn't free. The price of a church for a pretty preacher lady is a blowjob."

"Well that's a new kind of license fee." I smiled when I said it.

"But I think I will open my church, and I think I won't be giving you anything at all. So unless you are wanting to get hurt, you should move along." I made sure people around me heard.

"Do you have any idea what you are doing?" He asked.

"I have a pretty good idea, I'm refusing to give a stranger oral sex. Isn't that about right?" I asked it of Martin.

"That sounds like what I and everyone else in here heard you sayl," Martin agreed.

""Lady you are in for a world of pain," he said.

"You might try it. You won't be the first to try. If you succeed, you will be the second one to manage that." I said smiling sweetly.

"Oh who was the first?" Thomas asked. He couldn't just shut up and leave. Waiting for me outside would be so much better for him. But he wouldn't listen.

An illegal alien gang banger managed to do what you think you want to do," I said calmly.

"Was it good?" he asked.

I didn't think so. I never got the chance to ask him what he thought," I said.

"Why is that?" Thomas asked.

"He died before I got the chance." I smiled again.

"So you aint no preacher lady?" he asked.

"Sure I am, it just isn't all that I am," I replied. For a country boy he was fast, I'll give him that. He bitch slapped me hard enough to split my lip and bruise my cheek. I was going to have a black eye for sure. I held my hand up to stop Martin from killing him. "I do hope you enjoyed that, because now all these people saw you assault me. Oh I know they won't testify now, but they will when you are dead." I made sure no one heard that.