Read Online BAD DEEDS: A Dylan Hunter Thriller (Dylan Hunter Thrillers) by Robert Bidinotto - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Robert Bidinotto
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expect that he’d be driving pricey show-off wheels. Adair confirmed it when he stopped at the door of a cherry Nissan Titan SE pickup. The man knew his trucks; this one was best in its class for off-road work.
“It’s still early,” Adair said. “I’ll introduce you to the family over drinks and snacks before dinner. I just arranged for a couple of others to join us. You’ll find their stories interesting. Follow me.”
It was just after four p.m. when Rusty Nash ambled up to the counter of the Whitetail Diner and planted himself on a stool amid three of the regulars. He knew they were regulars because they were chatting up the busty blonde behind the counter like they were old friends. He smiled and nodded at them all, then asked her for coffee. As he sipped quietly from the steaming mug bearing the restaurant’s jumping-deer logo, he listened and sized them up.
All three customers and the woman behind the counter were fiftyish, like him, though he wouldn’t see that birthday for a few more months. One guy, sitting apart from the other pair, wore a tidy uniform that matched him up with the phone company truck parked outside. The other two, dressed rougher, obviously belonged to the building-contractor pickup beside it. One man was chubby, the other skin-and-bones.
He had already prepared his line of bullshit on the drive over. He was proud of how good he was at bullshitting people. He also was proud that Zak relied on him for this sort of thing. Zak liked that he didn’t look like the rest of the group. Partly, Zak said, it was because Rusty was a lot older than most of them. And partly because he dressed and talked just like a regular guy. And partly because he was so easy-going. Zak admitted that he himself and most of the others came across as “pretty intense.” His words. “I like the fact that you are so laid-back and friendly, Rusty,” he said. “You have the knack for fitting in anywhere—for blending right into the background, like …” What the hell was that lizard he mentioned?
Anyway, it turned out that he didn’t have to use his line of bullshit on these people at all, because they made it easy for him. They were already talking about what happened yesterday when he sat down.
“I had to check with my insurance agent,” the blonde was saying to Skin-and-Bones, “to see if the policy would cover me if they tried to sue me for the injuries.”
“How could they sue you, Sherry?” Phone Guy cut in. “They started the trouble.”
“You never know these days. Laws ain’t what they used to be. And the injury lawyers, they’re all sharks. Still, I’m just glad Brad and Annie were here to kick the crap out of them. No telling what that gang would’ve done to us or to my place if they got in here.”
His opening. “Sounds like you had some excitement here.” He grinned.
The woman, Sherry, turned to him and chuckled. “Did we ever! You know ’bout that environmental gang, WildJustice?”
“Not sure. They local? I’m just visiting a cousin up here for a few days.”
Sherry then unloaded her description and opinion of his group, in language so salty he was surprised to hear it coming out of a woman’s mouth in public. The three guys roared, so he had to force himself to laugh, too.
“Well anyway,” she continued, “they come here yesterday chasing three poor scared clerks from a fracking office down the road.” Sherry then delivered her version of what happened. Which further pissed him off. He wanted to throw his coffee in her face, but he held it together and made sure to look amazed and say “No shit!” and “You’re kidding!” at all the right places. When she ran out of steam, Chubby said, “Boy, I wish I was here to see all that go down.”
“Me too,” Rusty chimed in, keeping the grin plastered in place. “Man, I’d a loved to see them punks get their sorry asses whipped. And you say it was just one guy and a girl?”
“Unbelievable, huh?” Sherry
“It’s still early,” Adair said. “I’ll introduce you to the family over drinks and snacks before dinner. I just arranged for a couple of others to join us. You’ll find their stories interesting. Follow me.”
It was just after four p.m. when Rusty Nash ambled up to the counter of the Whitetail Diner and planted himself on a stool amid three of the regulars. He knew they were regulars because they were chatting up the busty blonde behind the counter like they were old friends. He smiled and nodded at them all, then asked her for coffee. As he sipped quietly from the steaming mug bearing the restaurant’s jumping-deer logo, he listened and sized them up.
All three customers and the woman behind the counter were fiftyish, like him, though he wouldn’t see that birthday for a few more months. One guy, sitting apart from the other pair, wore a tidy uniform that matched him up with the phone company truck parked outside. The other two, dressed rougher, obviously belonged to the building-contractor pickup beside it. One man was chubby, the other skin-and-bones.
He had already prepared his line of bullshit on the drive over. He was proud of how good he was at bullshitting people. He also was proud that Zak relied on him for this sort of thing. Zak liked that he didn’t look like the rest of the group. Partly, Zak said, it was because Rusty was a lot older than most of them. And partly because he dressed and talked just like a regular guy. And partly because he was so easy-going. Zak admitted that he himself and most of the others came across as “pretty intense.” His words. “I like the fact that you are so laid-back and friendly, Rusty,” he said. “You have the knack for fitting in anywhere—for blending right into the background, like …” What the hell was that lizard he mentioned?
Anyway, it turned out that he didn’t have to use his line of bullshit on these people at all, because they made it easy for him. They were already talking about what happened yesterday when he sat down.
“I had to check with my insurance agent,” the blonde was saying to Skin-and-Bones, “to see if the policy would cover me if they tried to sue me for the injuries.”
“How could they sue you, Sherry?” Phone Guy cut in. “They started the trouble.”
“You never know these days. Laws ain’t what they used to be. And the injury lawyers, they’re all sharks. Still, I’m just glad Brad and Annie were here to kick the crap out of them. No telling what that gang would’ve done to us or to my place if they got in here.”
His opening. “Sounds like you had some excitement here.” He grinned.
The woman, Sherry, turned to him and chuckled. “Did we ever! You know ’bout that environmental gang, WildJustice?”
“Not sure. They local? I’m just visiting a cousin up here for a few days.”
Sherry then unloaded her description and opinion of his group, in language so salty he was surprised to hear it coming out of a woman’s mouth in public. The three guys roared, so he had to force himself to laugh, too.
“Well anyway,” she continued, “they come here yesterday chasing three poor scared clerks from a fracking office down the road.” Sherry then delivered her version of what happened. Which further pissed him off. He wanted to throw his coffee in her face, but he held it together and made sure to look amazed and say “No shit!” and “You’re kidding!” at all the right places. When she ran out of steam, Chubby said, “Boy, I wish I was here to see all that go down.”
“Me too,” Rusty chimed in, keeping the grin plastered in place. “Man, I’d a loved to see them punks get their sorry asses whipped. And you say it was just one guy and a girl?”
“Unbelievable, huh?” Sherry
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