AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Hi, Trevor, it’s Rick. This is an official call. Bailey has a problem.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Rolling into a space outside the Black Bull, John looked around the parking area. It was busy, but it was always busy. The seedy bar was a hangout for bikers, local drug dealers, their clients, and a place to disappear into a dark corner if a person needed to. The owner, referred to as Bull, once led a nefarious biker gang, and the patrons knew his word was law.
John sauntered inside, but it took him a moment to adjust his eyes. He’d walked from bright sunlight into an inky cave. Squinting, he made his way to the bar and settled on a stool.
“Hey BJ” Bull said, his deep voice carrying its usual husky rasp. He was the only one who called John by his initials, and John wouldn’t dare suggest he do otherwise.
“Hi, Bull.”
“What’ll it be?”
“Whiskey on the rocks. It’s hot as a motherfucker out there.”
“Stopping in for some business?”
“Meetin’ a fella about a horse—horses—to be precise.”
“You want The Back Room?”
John frowned. The Back Room was a dingy space with just a table and chairs, but it guaranteed privacy. Bull rented it out for fifty-dollars an hour, and threw in one free drink per person.
“Might not be a bad idea,” John said thoughtfully.
“I figured. What’s this fella’s name?”
“He’s callin’ himself Steve.”
“I take you don’t have a description.”
“Nope.”
“I’ll watch for him. That’s your free drink,” Bull declared, placing the whiskey on the counter, then opened his palm for the fifty-dollars. “I’ll take him back when he arrives.”
Lifting out his wallet and seeing the cash, John hesitated, then pulled out the bills and handed them over. The sheriff’s office had expanded in recent years, and John wouldn’t put it past them to have the occasional undercover deputy at a table.
As Bull took the money, John picked up his drink, slipped off the barstool and walked to a door near the end of the bar. Pushing it open and moving down a short, narrow hall, he stepped into The Back Room and switched on the overhead light. Sitting at the table and sipping his drink, he found himself starting to relax. Bull’s suggestion had been a good one.
Leaning back in his chair, he thought about who he could call to offload three quarter horses. As a few names came to mind the door opened, and Bull ushered in a cowboy, complete with an oversized silver buckle, boots and a hat. He was younger than John expected, and he was edgy.
“You wanna drink?” Bull asked. “It’s on the house.”
“Uh, no thanks.”
“If he doesn’t want it, I’ll have it after we’re done—if that’s allowed,” John quickly added.
“Sure, BJ, no problem,” Bull grunted, then strode out and closed the door behind him.
“Why are we in here?” the young man asked. “It’s kind of like, uh, out of an old movie.”
“No ears to listen and no eyes to spy,” John said, lowering his voice. “Sit down and tell me about these horses and why you need to get outta Dodge.”
“I won them in a card game.”
“Are you shittin’ me?”
“No, I’m not, and I caught the bastard and his friends tryin’ to steal them back. It was a bad scene. They were yellin’ and cursin’ and comin’ at me so I pulled my gun. Someone must’ve called the cops because they were there pretty quick. It was nuts. I moved the horses early this mornin’ and I thought things would probably settle down, but then I got a call.”
