I nodded my head, and Patrick parked in front of the house, quickly getting out of the truck to help me out. Retrieving my Stetson, I walked around to the back, past the barn, to the entrance of one of the buildings.
“Welcome back, KD.” Wilbur, one of the ranch foremen, who was unloading boxes of fresh fruit and vegetables from the back of a pickup truck, tipped his hat at me. “How was the big city?”
“As good as one can expect, considering all the niggers, spics, towelheads, and Jews they got up there,” I told him.
“Well, you still gotta deal with the occasional nigger and a whole lot of beaners down here—and they’re just another form of spic, ain’t they?” Wilbur asked.
“Yeah, you’re right about that, but at least they know their place,” I said, using a crumpled napkin from my pocket to wipe my damp brow and neck. “I’ll say one thing about up north. It sure ain’t as hot as it is here.”
“Yeah, it’s been hot all week, and they say it ain’t gonna stop no time soon.” Wilbur wiped off his own brow with his sleeve.
“I see we got company.”
“Yes, sir. Over in building three. You want me to go with you?”
I shook my head. “Nah, I’ll take care of it.”
“All right, then,” Wilbur said then went back to what he was doing.
I continued over to the third structure, past a tractor trailer, and went inside. Standing just beyond the entrance, looking very official with their hats on, were three Texas Highway Patrolmen. They all turned when they saw me, but the one in the middle with corporal stripes on stepped forward and said, “Daddy, you’re back.”
“How you doing, son?”
My son, Tyler, was my pride and joy. The only way he could have pleased me more was to have me a grandchild. We gave each other a big hug. When we released, I turned and shook his two friends’ hands.
“Steve, Peter. How you doing, fellas?”
“Fine, sir,” the Wildman brothers said in unison. They’d been Tyler’s best friends since peewee football, and I practically raised them after their daddy ran off and left their momma when they were in junior high.
The three of them went to El Paso State College and played football. It was only a Division III school, but they had fun, and I loved the fact that they were so close and I could watch their games every Saturday. They even won a conference championship and went to the Division III playoffs while they were there. They came to work for me after they graduated, then they all joined the Texas Highway Patrol a few years later.
I had my own motives for encouraging the boys to pursue careers in law enforcement. Despite my incarceration, I still had my share of support in West Texas, but what most people didn’t know was that I was secretly rebuilding my power base. These three boys would be at the center of it.
“Where is he?” I asked.
“He’s here, Daddy.” Tyler gestured toward the back of the building. “Me and the boys was just about to have a chat with him when you walked in.”
“Well, son, I think I’d like to be a part of that conversation.”
Tyler smiled then began to walk toward a small office in the back. He opened the door, and sitting on a chair, looking scared as shit, was Johnny Brooks.
That black bastard jumped to his feet when he saw me. “KD,” he mumbled.
“How ya doin’ there, Johnny?” I took a few steps so that he and I were now standing face to face. I wasn’t but a few inches taller than him, but the additional two hundred pounds my body carried made it look like I dwarfed him. His nervousness amused me.
“I’m doing okay. I just wanna go home. Can I go home now?” He glanced at me for a moment, then down to the ground.
“Well, that all depends.”
His lips trembled as he glanced over at Tyler and the boys.
I eased closer. “How’d that last delivery go, Johnny?”
“It went fine.” Johnny nodded, his eyes still lowered. “Right on schedule.”
“Is that so?” I asked.
“Y–ye–yes, sir,” Johnny stammered.
“Then why the hell were you missing for twelve hours?” I slapped him.
Johnny finally looked up, trying to protect his face. “I–I di–di–didn’t go missing. I made the drop on time. I swear, KD. Call the dispatcher and ask them!”
“Ya know we got GPS tracking on the trucks. The GPS went ghost for almost twelve hours after you crossed the George Washington Bridge, and you didn’t answer our calls.”
“I don’t know anything about that,” he replied.
“You don’t know nothing about that?” Tyler repeated, taking off his hat and getting in Johnny’s face.
“I parked underneath a bridge and went to sleep,” Johnny nervously spit out. “Maybe the bridge blocked the signal?”
“Maybe you turned that fuckin’ GPS off and went off the damn grid for twelve fuckin’ hours to talk to the feds.” I grabbed Johnny by the collar and pulled him so close to me that the heat from my breath caught him in the face. “Don’t play dumb wit’ me, boy.”
“I–I–I’m not playin’ witcha. I swear.”
“Johnny, Johnny. You do know I’ve taught these boys how to use police techniques to beat the shit out of someone without leaving a mark, don’t you? We will find out where you were even if we have to beat it outta you,” I added, which prompted the other boys to remove their hats.
Johnny’s eyes were as wide as the tires of the tractor trailer outside.
“Step aside for a minute, Daddy.” Tyler chuckled, rolling up his sleeves.
I glanced at Johnny and shrugged, stepping out of the way. “See, you left me no choice.”
Before Johnny could reply, Tyler smacked him three times, way harder than I had. “Where the hell did you go? And you’d better not lie to me neither, you li’l prick.”
“A’ight, don’t hit me no more,” he pleaded, lifting his hands to protect his face. “I–I–I went to get some pussy before
