Read Online The Payback Man by Carolyn McSparren - Free Book Online
Authors: Carolyn McSparren
Ads: Link
tomorrow?”
Selma snickered. “Maybe. I think Mike Newman is angling for a cushy job indoors. He’s not much into the great outdoors, ’specially when it’s still so warm.”
“I’ll ask the warden if we can keep you. You seem pretty relaxed around the men. They don’t tense up around you the way they did with Newman.”
“That’s because even the nastiest con usually has a soft spot for his mother. In some cases I can’t understand why they would, but they do. Anyway, that’s how they see me. I have kids and grandkids, and I try to keep my temper. But a couple of them already know I can come down on them hard if I have to.”
Eleanor raised her eyes as a truck labored up the rise toward the barn. In the back were a dozen prisoners. “The painters have arrived. Let’s get started.”
She walked back to her own team and told them what they’d be doing. She met the painters’ team leader, asked him to give her guys paint and brushes, and followed them to the piles of wood.
She knew immediately that something was wrong with Steve. He moved like an old man, carefully keeping his torso erect and shuffling his feet slowly, keeping his knees straight with obvious effort. She started to say something to him, then shut her mouth. She watched the men set up makeshift sawhorses and saw him bend to pick up one end of the first board.
He nearly fell on his face. Slow Rise caught the end of the board, hefted it easily and put a hand in the center of Steve’s back to help him straighten up. Something was very wrong, but the men apparently didn’t want anyone to know.
She went back to her truck, unlocked it, picked up her laptop computer and carried it back with her.
“Hey, Chadwick,” she called.
He turned pained eyes her way.
She’d better make this good. “You know anything about computers?”
He nodded.
“Good, then I’ve got some extra work for you. The rest of you keep on with what you’re doing. Chadwick, let’s go into the office.”
She turned on her heel and marched away through the barn as though oblivious to anything behind her.
The government-issue steel desk, two desk chairs, a table and a couple of file cabinets sat in a jumble in the middle of what would eventually be the cattle-operation office. An equally utilitarian steel credenza sat against the wall beside the door. She walked in, waited for Steve to pass her, then shut the door and set the computer on the credenza.
“Can you sit?”
“I’m not supposed to sit unless you do.”
“That wasn’t my question. Can you sit?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Of course you do. How badly are you hurt?”
The lines around his mouth tightened, his jaw clenched, his eyes narrowed. “I’m not hurt.”
“Bull. Turn around.”
He didn’t move.
“I said, turn around.”
“Against the rules to be alone without a guard and the door closed.”
“Then we’ll leave the door ajar.” She opened the door a dozen inches and called to Selma, “This shouldn’t take but a couple of minutes. Okay with you?”
“Whatever,” Selma replied. “It’s your show, Doc, within limits.”
“Thanks. Now,” she said to Steve, “do as I asked, please.”
He turned around carefully.
“Assume the position if you can. Hands flat on the desk.”
He managed not to groan, but she heard the sharp intake of breath. She hadn’t wanted to ask him to do that, but itwas the only way she knew to make certain he wouldn’t interfere with her examination.
She reached for his shirt and began to tug it out of the waistband of his jeans, pulling slowly and with infinite care.
“Stop that.”
“Shut up. I want to find out what’s wrong with you.”
His shirt came free and she lifted it as high as she could. She caught her breath. “Oh, my God, who did this to you?”
“I fell over a curb.”
“Newman. How many times did he hit you?”
“He didn’t.”
“Steve—” She couldn’t conceal the anguish in her voice. “ Please
Selma snickered. “Maybe. I think Mike Newman is angling for a cushy job indoors. He’s not much into the great outdoors, ’specially when it’s still so warm.”
“I’ll ask the warden if we can keep you. You seem pretty relaxed around the men. They don’t tense up around you the way they did with Newman.”
“That’s because even the nastiest con usually has a soft spot for his mother. In some cases I can’t understand why they would, but they do. Anyway, that’s how they see me. I have kids and grandkids, and I try to keep my temper. But a couple of them already know I can come down on them hard if I have to.”
Eleanor raised her eyes as a truck labored up the rise toward the barn. In the back were a dozen prisoners. “The painters have arrived. Let’s get started.”
She walked back to her own team and told them what they’d be doing. She met the painters’ team leader, asked him to give her guys paint and brushes, and followed them to the piles of wood.
She knew immediately that something was wrong with Steve. He moved like an old man, carefully keeping his torso erect and shuffling his feet slowly, keeping his knees straight with obvious effort. She started to say something to him, then shut her mouth. She watched the men set up makeshift sawhorses and saw him bend to pick up one end of the first board.
He nearly fell on his face. Slow Rise caught the end of the board, hefted it easily and put a hand in the center of Steve’s back to help him straighten up. Something was very wrong, but the men apparently didn’t want anyone to know.
She went back to her truck, unlocked it, picked up her laptop computer and carried it back with her.
“Hey, Chadwick,” she called.
He turned pained eyes her way.
She’d better make this good. “You know anything about computers?”
He nodded.
“Good, then I’ve got some extra work for you. The rest of you keep on with what you’re doing. Chadwick, let’s go into the office.”
She turned on her heel and marched away through the barn as though oblivious to anything behind her.
The government-issue steel desk, two desk chairs, a table and a couple of file cabinets sat in a jumble in the middle of what would eventually be the cattle-operation office. An equally utilitarian steel credenza sat against the wall beside the door. She walked in, waited for Steve to pass her, then shut the door and set the computer on the credenza.
“Can you sit?”
“I’m not supposed to sit unless you do.”
“That wasn’t my question. Can you sit?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Of course you do. How badly are you hurt?”
The lines around his mouth tightened, his jaw clenched, his eyes narrowed. “I’m not hurt.”
“Bull. Turn around.”
He didn’t move.
“I said, turn around.”
“Against the rules to be alone without a guard and the door closed.”
“Then we’ll leave the door ajar.” She opened the door a dozen inches and called to Selma, “This shouldn’t take but a couple of minutes. Okay with you?”
“Whatever,” Selma replied. “It’s your show, Doc, within limits.”
“Thanks. Now,” she said to Steve, “do as I asked, please.”
He turned around carefully.
“Assume the position if you can. Hands flat on the desk.”
He managed not to groan, but she heard the sharp intake of breath. She hadn’t wanted to ask him to do that, but itwas the only way she knew to make certain he wouldn’t interfere with her examination.
She reached for his shirt and began to tug it out of the waistband of his jeans, pulling slowly and with infinite care.
“Stop that.”
“Shut up. I want to find out what’s wrong with you.”
His shirt came free and she lifted it as high as she could. She caught her breath. “Oh, my God, who did this to you?”
“I fell over a curb.”
“Newman. How many times did he hit you?”
“He didn’t.”
“Steve—” She couldn’t conceal the anguish in her voice. “ Please
Similar Books
