opened the envelope. Eskadi had drawn a single
star at the top of the page. Beneath it he had printed the Apache word
Son-ee-ah-Ray--Morning Star--the Apache name he had given her at a gathering
less than a year earlier. Maybe Eskadi did have a bit of a jealous streak in
him. She wished her mother was alive so she would have someone to talk with
about the strange ways of men and how they express their affection.
Kate tucked the letter into her desk drawer.
CHAPTER TEN
During the four-block walk to Diamond Gun & Ammo Zeb
concluded mind that the words spoken in the bomb threat did not jibe with the tone
of the caller’s voice. A man calling in a bomb threat…two bomb threats…would
have no regret in his voice. Yet, the voice of the caller was seemingly full of
remorse. His job was to figure out why.
Josh Diamond’s gun store was on Second Street, just
past Jilberto’s Mexican Eatery and a pair of abandoned buildings. The old
livery stable, dilapidated when Josh took it over, had been freshened with a
new coat of paint and security doors.
“Yo, Zeb,” said Josh. “That was quick.”
“I hardly recognize the place,” said Zeb. “It looks
great.”
“Thanks. I’m converting the upstairs into a deluxe
apartment. The future of Safford looks bright, wouldn’t you say?” asked Josh.
“I mean for a businessman like me.”
“If we can keep the downtown alive, the mines open,
the price of cotton up and keep the young people from moving away, I’d say
Safford will thrive.”
“I hope it does. I like what I see so far.”
“Sounds like you’re talking about Deputy Kate Steele.
I saw the way you two were eyeing each other.”
“She is quite a gal,” said Josh. “Don’t know her that
well yet, but I’d like to. That is just between us boys, if you don’t mind.”
“I’ll keep it on the down low, but you’ve got
competition,” said Zeb.
“I’d be surprised if I didn’t,” replied Josh.
An art deco clock, a series of first edition Zane Grey
novels and a signed, framed Picasso were among the many new additions since Zeb
had last been in the store.
“Is that a Picasso?” asked Zeb, eyeing the painting.
“What kind of money is there in the gun business, anyway?”
Josh laughed. “Not that kind of money. My dad got
it in a swap a long time ago. I don’t think the owner knew what he had.
Coffee?”
“I’ve got time for one cup. I would prefer tea if you
have it.”
Josh eyed his old pal and said, “Sounds like someone
is domesticating you at last.”
“Kiss my ass, amigo. My guts are acting up. Tea
calms them.”
“Good, but I still mean what I said. One tea coming
up.”
“I see you’re making this a fancy gun store,” said
Zeb.
“I prefer eclectic ,” replied Josh. The men
chuckled.
“Eclectic ain’t exactly what got us through some tight
circumstances along the border now did it, or kept you alive during your time
in Kuwait,” said Zeb.
“I’m a complex man,” replied Josh. His comment caused
both of the men to laugh uproariously.
“Maybe we should get down to the details of the
robbery,” said Zeb.
Josh stood, taking his coffee mug in hand, and
strolled behind the counter. He thumped the top of a glass enclosure with the
first finger on his good hand. He pointed to a small hole in the glass, not
much bigger in diameter than a softball.
“The handguns were taken from this case. They managed
to break the glass fairly cleanly. Hardly left a mess at all. The neato
bandito. How about that for an m.o.?”
“I’ll note it in my report,” replied Zeb.
Zeb pointed to a hunter’s display created from an
impressive collection of antlers.
“That’s a unique gun rack. Did you make it yourself?”
“Hell, no. I bought it at a bankruptcy sale over in
west Texas,” replied Josh. “Some phony oilman claims to have shot
star at the top of the page. Beneath it he had printed the Apache word
Son-ee-ah-Ray--Morning Star--the Apache name he had given her at a gathering
less than a year earlier. Maybe Eskadi did have a bit of a jealous streak in
him. She wished her mother was alive so she would have someone to talk with
about the strange ways of men and how they express their affection.
Kate tucked the letter into her desk drawer.
CHAPTER TEN
During the four-block walk to Diamond Gun & Ammo Zeb
concluded mind that the words spoken in the bomb threat did not jibe with the tone
of the caller’s voice. A man calling in a bomb threat…two bomb threats…would
have no regret in his voice. Yet, the voice of the caller was seemingly full of
remorse. His job was to figure out why.
Josh Diamond’s gun store was on Second Street, just
past Jilberto’s Mexican Eatery and a pair of abandoned buildings. The old
livery stable, dilapidated when Josh took it over, had been freshened with a
new coat of paint and security doors.
“Yo, Zeb,” said Josh. “That was quick.”
“I hardly recognize the place,” said Zeb. “It looks
great.”
“Thanks. I’m converting the upstairs into a deluxe
apartment. The future of Safford looks bright, wouldn’t you say?” asked Josh.
“I mean for a businessman like me.”
“If we can keep the downtown alive, the mines open,
the price of cotton up and keep the young people from moving away, I’d say
Safford will thrive.”
“I hope it does. I like what I see so far.”
“Sounds like you’re talking about Deputy Kate Steele.
I saw the way you two were eyeing each other.”
“She is quite a gal,” said Josh. “Don’t know her that
well yet, but I’d like to. That is just between us boys, if you don’t mind.”
“I’ll keep it on the down low, but you’ve got
competition,” said Zeb.
“I’d be surprised if I didn’t,” replied Josh.
An art deco clock, a series of first edition Zane Grey
novels and a signed, framed Picasso were among the many new additions since Zeb
had last been in the store.
“Is that a Picasso?” asked Zeb, eyeing the painting.
“What kind of money is there in the gun business, anyway?”
Josh laughed. “Not that kind of money. My dad got
it in a swap a long time ago. I don’t think the owner knew what he had.
Coffee?”
“I’ve got time for one cup. I would prefer tea if you
have it.”
Josh eyed his old pal and said, “Sounds like someone
is domesticating you at last.”
“Kiss my ass, amigo. My guts are acting up. Tea
calms them.”
“Good, but I still mean what I said. One tea coming
up.”
“I see you’re making this a fancy gun store,” said
Zeb.
“I prefer eclectic ,” replied Josh. The men
chuckled.
“Eclectic ain’t exactly what got us through some tight
circumstances along the border now did it, or kept you alive during your time
in Kuwait,” said Zeb.
“I’m a complex man,” replied Josh. His comment caused
both of the men to laugh uproariously.
“Maybe we should get down to the details of the
robbery,” said Zeb.
Josh stood, taking his coffee mug in hand, and
strolled behind the counter. He thumped the top of a glass enclosure with the
first finger on his good hand. He pointed to a small hole in the glass, not
much bigger in diameter than a softball.
“The handguns were taken from this case. They managed
to break the glass fairly cleanly. Hardly left a mess at all. The neato
bandito. How about that for an m.o.?”
“I’ll note it in my report,” replied Zeb.
Zeb pointed to a hunter’s display created from an
impressive collection of antlers.
“That’s a unique gun rack. Did you make it yourself?”
“Hell, no. I bought it at a bankruptcy sale over in
west Texas,” replied Josh. “Some phony oilman claims to have shot
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