Read Online A Crying Shame by William W. Johnstone - Free Book Online Page A

perhaps?”
    A very public one. At a local supermarket. Right after Paul fired Booger from the place.”
    What prompted the dismissal?”
    She smiled, shaking her head in disbelief.You do not speak as I would imagine a mercenary would. But there again, I suppose I’ve seen too many movies. Paul couldn’t keep Booger out of the swamp and on the job. He was officially employed as sort of a handyman. He can’t do too much. He’s . . . slow. Not really retarded, I believe . . . just a little below average in intelligence. One of those who stands about in public and scratches himself. You know the type.”
    Unfortunately.” Jon’s brow furrowed in thought, then relaxed.What does this Booger person look like, Linda?”
    Short, stocky, eyes set close together and deep-set in his head. Funny . . . yellow-looking eyes. And he is hairy as a brute.”
    She knows nothing, Jon surmised. Paul kept her ignorant as to his real work.The other workers?”
    How many?”
    No . . . I mean, why don’t they live on the place?”
    We don’t have that many men, really. Paul said farming wasn’t like it was a few years ago. A place this size didn’t need that many people working it. I rarely see them; only hear the sounds of equipment running. The foreman didn’t want to live on the place, even though we offered him a rent-free home.”
    Jon turned off the parish road and onto a newly laid blacktop road.We are now officially on Breaux property,” he said with a smile.
    She put a slim hand on his tanned, muscular forearm, the fingers tightening, warm on his skin.And I am officially getting scared, Jon.”
    Don’t be. I took your brother’s money to come here, and I will see that nothing happens to you. I give you my word.”
    And you don’t go back on your word?”
    Never.”
    She rubbed her fingers on his arm and he wondered if she knew how sexual a motion that was.I still get the feeling you aren’t telling me all you know. I think we have a lot of talking to do, Jon Badon, mercenaire.”
    Peut-etre que oui, ” was his reply. Perhaps so.
    Â 
    How long can you sit on this, Sheriff?” Joe asked.How long are you going to keep the people uninformed?”
    It was late afternoon, and Mike, involved in thought, was not paying attention to Joe. Why in God’s name did Badon and Ms. Breaux want to stay out at that . . . death house? What did Badon really have up his sleeve? If anything. Mike didn’t completely trust the man. Call it cop’s instinct. He looked up, meeting Joe’s eyes.What did you say, Joe?”
    The people, Sheriff. The people of this parish. They have a right to know what’s in that swamp. The dangers in there. Don’t you think that’s so?”
    Joe . . . man, we’d have pure panic. Everybody in this parish would drag out his rifle and shotgun and be shooting at anything that moved in the night. You know that’s so; I shouldn’t have to tell you. Do you have any idea how many innocent people would get shot? Hurt? Killed? I don’t even like to think about it.”
    Blackwell is stomping around out in the front office, demanding a statement. What are you going to tell him? Do you have that thought out?”
    Yeah, Mack got together with me and we worked it out.” He flipped a single-spaced, typed report at the man.There it is, and may God help me.”
    Joe quickly scanned the single page, his lips moving as he read. Joe had always been a slow reader.Sheriff—this is a bald-faced lie, all of it.”
    Yeah, but that’s the way it’s going down, Joe. And the coroner and Ralph at the funeral home will back me up all the way. So will Mack. And I’m counting on you to do the same.”
    I won’t tell a lie, Sheriff.”
    Mike rose from behind his desk, his face suddenly red with anger.You goddamned sanctimonious prick!” he cussed the man. He cursed him