Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 73556 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73556 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
“There’s no discussion that needs to be had other than the one I just laid out. Now, take these cuffs off, and give me that phone.”
The sheriff yanked the phone up from the table and slipped it in his pocket.
“You’re in handcuffs and will remain that way until I’m certain we’re on the same page. Do you understand me? Now, I can honor a call. I can do that. But first, I need to know who do you want me to call?”
“…You know exactly who the fuck you need to call.”
“No, I don’t. It could be a number of people.”
“Beetlejuice! Beetlejuice! Beetlejuice! Is that who you think I’m trying to call, man?! Keep playin’ games with me, and this little misunderstandin’ between us will turn into a wildfire. CALL THE GOTDAMN NUMBER!”
The sheriff leaned back in his chair, sighed, then slid the phone out of his pocket. He slowly moved his finger along the screen of his phone, then placed the phone down on the table, face up. On speaker.
“Hello, Mr. Wilde.”
“Good evenin’, Sheriff Gomes.”
“I have your grandson here, Roman Wilde, in my office. He’s made it clear that he has Attorney August Lyles on retainer. I think we need to discuss that further.”
“Well, that doesn’t surprise me in the least, Sheriff Gomes!” Grandpa chuckled as if he were deeply amused. “You see, black sheep seem to stick together, since nobody else will have them. August goes against the law every chance he gets. ’Bout time he’s run outta town, but that’s business for another day. Don’t you worry about ol’ August, ya hear?”
“Yes, Mr. Wilde. In other news, your grandson here got into a bit of a scuffle in his cell with another detainee after being picked up leaving a watering hole. He was charged with drinkin’ ‘and drivin’ last night. A DUI. Also, resisting arrest. Because of the unprovoked brawl, now he has an assault charge added on top.”
“Awww, that’s too bad.”
“Yeah, it’s a damn shame. He insists, for some strange reason, that he’s being railroaded. All of this paranoia makes me think he may be on some sort of drug. Maybe we need to check his belongings. AGAIN.”
“Hmmm, his daddy used to dibble and dabble with angel dust. I wouldn’t be surprised if the fruit didn’t fall too far from the tree?”
“It seems that way, Mr. Wilde.”
“You two are amazin’. So now, Sheriff Gomes, you want to insinuate that you’ll stuff some heroin, pills, cocaine, fentanyl, and whatever else you can get your hands on from that collections rooms of yours into my impounded car or among my possessions to make it look like it was mine?”
“Well, you do have a high stress, fast-paced job, and with your checkered past ’nd all, it wouldn’t be unheard of.” Sheriff Gomes smiled big and wide.
“This is rich. How does your wife feel about this, Sherriff?”
“How does my wife feel about what?”
“About you lettin’ my grandfather buy you like some hooker and bend you over so he can fuck your entire promise to ‘protect and serve’ right up the ass?”
“Mr. Wilde, Roman here needs his gotdamn mouth washed out with soap.” The man gritted his teeth as his complexion deepened.
“I do apologize for my grandson’s crudeness. Let me have a word with him, Sheriff Gomes. Sometimes all that’s needed is a nice chat with a more experienced gentleman.” Grandpa served up a nasty, greasy laugh that might have sounded like the giggle of a serpent, if serpents could in fact do that.
“Hi, Grandpa! I see the Devil let you come out to play.”
“Well, hello, my little slick-tongued black sheep. How was your evenin’ in the Harris County lock-up?”
“About as good as you are at takin’ rejection and gettin’ an erection without a little blue pill. Grandpa, I’ve got some bad news.”
“Do ya now? What’s that, Roman?”
“Well, like Sheriff said, there’s a bloodbath in my cell, but all I got was a couple cuts. Your plan backfired, just like your neck when it formed your face.”
Grandpa laughed all the harder, though Roman wasn’t convinced the man believed that this would be the outcome.
“So, you had a fight in jail. Happens to the best of us.”
“I know you asked for that arrangement. Big boy Miller was rushed to the sanatorium, thanks to you. I’ll give his left eyeball, the cut across his neck, and several broken ribs my kindest regards.”
“Well, I always knew you were the sparrin’ type, black sheep. I figured you could hold your own.”
“…Sure you did.” Roman leaned back and rolled his eyes.
“The only problem is that was just an appetizer, son. Are you ready to play ball before I turn up the heat?”
“Play? We’re way past playin’ ball, or any sort of games at all at this point. I’m the black sheep of the family according to you. With all of this wool, I’m used to things gettin’ a little hairy, and a little hot, too. Turn that shit up. I’ve danced with the devil before.”