Chapter 236

I had another interview about the boxing, so I just playfully challenged Webster and the republican to a three round match each. The proceeds to go to charity, winner take all to donate to their favorite charity. Webster was smart enough to say you don't want to see me in a pair of boxing shorts, and laugh. The ex chief from Dobson made a face. "Being Sheriff is no laughing matter. Porter is a joke, actually a dirty joke," he said

They played that sound bite for me later in the day. "So what is your response."

"As I have said before the violent crime rate has risen every year he was chief of police in Dobson. I wonder how funny he thinks that is?" I said. Might as well rub salt in his wounds. I had made that charge every time his name came up.

"He says there is nothing he could have done to prevent that," the news whore said.

"That is why it went up. He threw up his hands and said, there is nothing I can do, and he did nothing." I said then walked away. Every chance I got I stuck it to Webster as well.

When I went back to the gym, every other person said something to me. Mateo was there and he was pissed. I had fucked up his macho image. "You should look at the interview I did with the local news crew. I told them you went easy on me and still won."

"I want to fight you again in a real match," he demanded.

"Mateo, I am not a boxer, you will prove nothing by beating up on me. Frankly I have too much to lose by fighting you in a real match. I'm sorry I will tell anyone you kicked my ass, but I can't fight you again. That was the end of it for me.

I continued to work out at the gym and run the laps at the soft ball field as I had done the last five months. During those months I heard from Kara a couple of times, but I stopped seeing her at all. Running for sheriff meant more to me than getting off big time. I had years in mind not minutes.

Three days before the elections I walked out the back door of the pub and he was waiting for me. I had been expecting him. "Mateo, you don't want to do this." I said.

"I have to," he said sadly.

"Mateo I have a pistol in my hand. It is a very small pistol, but it makes very big holes. Don't come at me or you will force me to shoot you," I said.

"I have to do this they are making fun of me in the hood," he said.

"Go home and tell them you kicked my ass, I will back you up. You don't have to die for this," I said. I was a breath away from raising the derringer and ending his life, when he turned and walked away.

It was only a few days till the elections and I didn't need his blood on my hands. I went home. I went to bed, but I couldn't sleep. I had a bad, bad feeling about Mateo. Some guys just can't stand to have even a rumor going around that an inferior woman bested them in anything. A fight would be even worse. The only thing to fix it, would be to beat me in the ring or kill me.

The problem with that is I could never cooperate with that. I couldn't take a dive in the ring and I couldn't let him shoot me. I decided I would stay away from the pub, just in case he decided to take me out in front of witnesses. He would need for everyone to know it was him.

I found my Kevlar and wore it under my long sleeve tee shirt that evening when I went out to dinner. I came out of the pizza pit in the plaza with two take out boxes, one of Pizza and one of bread sticks. I saw him in the big old Chevy that rolled through the parking lot. When the gun came out the window I dropped the pizza and went to ground. He fired four shot at me while juggling the steering wheel, so he couldn't hit shit. Except that there was a crowd and he did hit what looked like a homeless man.

I got the magnum free just as he began the turn at the end of the parking lot that would have lead him to the access road. For just a couple of second he was a very stable target moving at a easy to calculate speed. I zeroed in on him with two shots the third and fourth splattered his brains all over the old Chevy's immaculate interior.

I tried to call 911 after I reached the homeless man. Instead I held my hands over his sucking chest wound. "You call 911," I told a woman standing there staring at me. She finally managed to make her body move.

I know it was a terribly thing to think but I thought, my fucking pizza is going to get cold.

The sheriff's deputies took my statement. The coroner came and took the body away. A tow truck came and pulled the car away and I was still standing there covered in the old man's blood waiting for the detectives.

"Where the hell were you having dinner?" I asked.

"You aren't Sheriff yet," he said laughing.

"You better hope I never am," I mumbled under my breath. "So he took a couple of shots at you cause you beat him in a fight?" he asked.

"It's a cultural thing." I said.

"Looks like it. He would have gotten away, if this hadn't been a parking lot where he had to turn left to get out. As it is you saved us having to go looking for him. And the price of a trial."

"Yeah, I'm real proud of that. How is the guy he shot?" I asked.