Read Online The Hanging of Samuel Ash by Sheldon Russell - Free Book Online Page B

absence of a signal, raced headlong down the side road toward the crossing in front of him.
    Hook grabbed the steering wheel and slammed on the brakes with both feet. But the pedal sank to the floorboard, and the road-rail raced down the grade like a runaway steam engine.
    As he entered the crossing, Hook glanced up to see the car looming on the tracks in front of him. His stomach waded into a knot, and his mouth turned to cotton. He closed his eyes and clenched his jaw against the inevitable.
    The road-rail caught the back fender of the vehicle, and the impact drove Hook forward into the steering wheel. His lungs emptied of air and refilled with fire. Sparks sprayed up into the blackness, and the sound of breaking glass filled the night. The lights of the other vehicle spun about and shot skyward as the car skidded up the bank of the opposite bar ditch.
    *   *   *
    How long it took him to stop the road-rail, he couldn’t be sure. But by the time he climbed the embankment and pried open the car door, his heart pounded in his ears like a steam jenny. Inside, he found a man lying on the floor of the car, his hat crushed over his eyes and his legs jammed under the dash.
    â€œJesus,” Hook said, pulling him out. “You okay?”
    The bill of Officer Joe’s hat stuck out over his ear like the porch on a shack, and his badge hung loose from his pocket. A smear of dirt ran from one eye to the other like an eyebrow gone feral. Weaving, Officer Joe looked at his car and then at Hook. He screwed his hat back on his head and clenched his jaw.
    â€œNo, I ain’t,” he said. “But I’m a hell of a lot better off than you’re going to be, Runyon.”

 
    9
    Â 
    H OOK POURED A cup of coffee from the thermos and took up a chair. He scratched at his beard, the consequence of two days in the Carlsbad jail, and watched Clyde, the Carlsbad operator, finish off the last of his bologna sandwich and an overripe banana.
    The judge had fined Hook the cost of repairs on Officer Joe’s patrol car, the total of which had yet to be determined. He released Hook on his own recognizance with the understanding that full payment would be made to the court when the appraisal arrived. Officer Joe, being less than civil about the situation, had made Hook’s two-day stay in the clinker as miserable as possible.
    In the end, Hook figured he’d escaped with only minor damage to his otherwise spotless reputation. All had worked out except for one small detail: Officer Joe had towed the road-rail, and they wouldn’t release it until someone paid the ten-dollar tow fee.
    Hook considered calling Eddie but hadn’t yet informed him of the accident. Anyway, Eddie had enough responsibilities without having to deal with every small detail of an investigation.
    â€œThanks for the coffee,” Hook said to Clyde.
    Clyde shut his lunch box and kicked his feet up on the desk.
    â€œWhy is it you had to come back so soon, Mr. Runyon?” he asked.
    â€œIt’s Hook to you, Clyde. That goddang road-rail broke down on me and had to be towed.”
    Clyde lit a cigarette, blew a smoke ring, and watched it wobble across the room.
    â€œDamn good job it didn’t break down on line,” he said. “I heard a Flagstaff track foreman tried to beat a highwheeler to the Hackberry spur with his road-rail over to Shattuck.”
    â€œHe didn’t make it?” Hook asked.
    â€œOh, he made it, just not in one piece. They did find his silver-plated belt buckle and a set of false teeth.”
    Hook sucked at the hot coffee. “I don’t remember hearing that. Guess I must have been on vacation.”
    â€œSo, what’s wrong with your road-rail, Hook?”
    â€œIt’s not altogether clear. But the wrecker service wants ten bucks to release her. Seeing as how my cash is in Clovis, I’m stuck in Carlsbad talking to you.”
    â€œThat’s a real shame, but