Read Online Sins of a Siren by Curtis L. Alcutt - Free Book Online

blades. “Hey, I gotta get back to work. I ain’t got no more info for you.”
    Darius then looked over at the long, silver Airstream trailer across the yard. “Does anybody live in that trailer?”
    Julio exhaled loudly. “That’s the owner’s. He lives in there.”
    Darius recalled hearing about Griff’s shifty ways in precinct reports. It was rumored that he was involved with stolen cars and peddling bootleg movies and CD’s. “Where is Griff?”
    Julio pointed across the yard as he walked back to his forklift. “He’s over there runnin’ the car crusher.”
    Darius put his shades back on and walked over to the loud, giant machine. He looked up into the glass-enclosed operator’s booth, ten feet over his head. Inside, Griff smoked a fat cigar as he moved levers and pressed buttons. Darius waved his hands as he yelled, “Hey! Griff! Yo!”
    Griff looked down at the waving man. He opened the window of the booth and yelled, “What you want?”
    Darius removed the badge from his belt and held it up. “I need to talk to you.”
    Griff shook his head as he shut down the car crusher. Darius watched the hefty man climb down the ladder of the machine. After getting on the ground, Griff looked at Darius’s badge, then into his shades. “What you need to talk to me about?”
    Darius watched as a Griff’s old German Shepherd, Bluto, came from behind the mobile home and walked over to them. “I’ll make this quick.” He held up the photo of Trenda. “When’s the last time you saw her?”
    Griff took two quick puffs off his cigar as Bluto sniffed Darius’s pant leg. “I don’t know what you talkin’ ’bout. Who the hell is she?”
    Darius looked around and saw a few customers walking around the yard, inspecting the wrecked cars for parts. He needed a place to interrogate Woodsy in private. “Follow me,” Darius said as he walked around behind the flat bed truck Griff used to bring junk cars to his yard.
    Reluctantly, Griff followed him. Once they got behind the truck, Griff said, “You wastin’ my time. I told—”
    Darius grabbed him by the lapels of his greasy coveralls. “I know all about your crooked-ass. If you don’t stop bullshittin’ me and tell me where this bitch is, I’m gonna have my boys come through here and see how many of these goddamned cars are stolen.”
    Before Griff could speak, they both heard an angry growl. Bluto bared his teeth at Darius. “Easy, Bluto…easy,” Griff said. “He don’t like folks fuckin’ wit’ his master.”
    Darius let go of Griff as the dog took a step toward him. “You better call him off before I put a hole in him.” Darius slowly reached for the pistol in his shoulder holster.
    Griff looked at the dog. “Bluto!
Go home
!”
    The dog gave Darius one last menacing glare, then turned and walked back toward the mobile home. Griff took a puff off his cigar, ground it out on the fender of the truck and put it in the breast pocket of his overalls. “I don’t know what you talkin’ ’bout. I run a legit business.”
    The loud sound of an air chisel cutting through metal got Darius’s attention. He let go of Griff and looked over the hood of the truck. The sound came from behind the wooden, grease-stained doors of a large, ragged garage near the back of the junkyard. He looked at Griff. “What’s going on in that garage, Griff?”
    The defiant look drained from his face. “Nothin’.”
    Darius walked toward the garage. “Let’s go see what that, ‘nothin’ noise is.”
    Griff hurried behind him. “You got a warrant?”
    Darius continued walking. “For what?”
    Griff hurried past and stood between the garage door and Darius. “I know my rights. You can’t just search my property