pronto, before I force feed you that cheap tie you’re wearing.”
Moore didn’t know how to respond to that. Or rather, he did know how he’d usually respond, but Thumper’s two companions, standing silent, intimidated him. One of them was a lawyer in an expensive suit with a fancy leather briefcase in hand. Moore didn’t recognize him but he knew a pricey lawyer when he saw one.
The other fellow, a massive bronze man in a highway patrolman’s uniform, Moore knew all too well, and he was the real reason everyone else in the office had found something else to do rather than skullfuck Thumper for having the balls to raise his voice to any of them.
“Answer me, motherfucker, where is he?”
Brower stepped into the office area.
“What seems to be the problem?”
“The problem is that Jon Elder was arrested in this shitburg yesterday, that’s the fucking problem. He’s in here somewhere and we want to see him right fucking now.”
“Well, have a seat. It’ll be a while yet.”
“No it won’t, Sparky, we’ll see him right now or you’ll see my foot go up somebody’s ass, pronto.”
The lawyer stepped forward, “Deputy, my name is Melvin Hayes, I’m Mr. Elder’s attorney and I demand to see my client without delay or haste.”
“Your client waived his right to counsel.”
“Bullshit!” Thumper said. “Pure corn-fed bullshit!”
“Do you have the signed release?” Melvin asked.
Brower shook his head. “He stated it expressly, in my presence. Deputy Collins was also present for the statement. He refused to sign anything but verbally waived right to counsel.”
“Then it’s not official,” Melvin said.
“As far as we’re concerned, it is. You doubt our word?”
“Fuck yeah, we doubt it. Slick would never waive right to counsel!” Thumper said, hammering the glass counter with his fist once again. It shattered and the cops jumped.
“What the hell is going on out here?”
Rawlings stormed out of his office, face beet red and jowls flaring. “I’m on the phone with the governor’s office and I can’t hear myself think! What the fuck—”
Rawlings stopped on a dime when he saw the three men at the counter.
“Navajo Joe,” he said to the huge state trooper. “It figures, whenever I get a pain in my balls, you show up. What do you want?”
“Sheriff Ted. What do I want? Gun control, socialized medicine and world peace, among other things,” the big man said. “The list goes on and on.”
“You mean you don’t get all that on the reservation as part of your government handout package, along with the free smokes and scotch?”
“Not yet, anyway, maybe someday, but what I want is beside the point. I’m here in an unofficial capacity, strictly as an observer,” Navajo Joe said.
“Then do me a favor and unofficially observe somewhere else.”
“Be happy to. Let this lawyer see his client and we’ll be on our way.”
“Who’s his client?”
“Jon Elder, as I told this fat fucking moron behind the counter,” Thumper said.
“Wait, who the hell are you? You don’t talk to my deputies like that—”
“My name’s Tommy Olson and I talk how I want to who I want whenever I want, last I checked, this was still America and we have free fucking speech!” Thumper said.
“Keep it up and I’ll arrest you for disturbing the peace—”
“And I’ll be happy to appear as witness before the judge,” Navajo Joe said, “and tell him I saw that Tommy, the defendant in question, wasn’t disturbing the peace.”
“In other words,” Thumper said, “go fuck yourself, Sheriff.”
Rawlings stared at Navajo Joe and Thumper, plainly furious. Melvin was a smart enough lawyer to know when to keep his mouth shut and stayed out of it. Rawlings looked to Brower, asking a silent question.
“Defendant waived his right to counsel,” Brower said.
“Without a signed waiver, it’s not official,” Melvin said. “So, unfortunately, I cannot accept that.”
Brower and
Moore didn’t know how to respond to that. Or rather, he did know how he’d usually respond, but Thumper’s two companions, standing silent, intimidated him. One of them was a lawyer in an expensive suit with a fancy leather briefcase in hand. Moore didn’t recognize him but he knew a pricey lawyer when he saw one.
The other fellow, a massive bronze man in a highway patrolman’s uniform, Moore knew all too well, and he was the real reason everyone else in the office had found something else to do rather than skullfuck Thumper for having the balls to raise his voice to any of them.
“Answer me, motherfucker, where is he?”
Brower stepped into the office area.
“What seems to be the problem?”
“The problem is that Jon Elder was arrested in this shitburg yesterday, that’s the fucking problem. He’s in here somewhere and we want to see him right fucking now.”
“Well, have a seat. It’ll be a while yet.”
“No it won’t, Sparky, we’ll see him right now or you’ll see my foot go up somebody’s ass, pronto.”
The lawyer stepped forward, “Deputy, my name is Melvin Hayes, I’m Mr. Elder’s attorney and I demand to see my client without delay or haste.”
“Your client waived his right to counsel.”
“Bullshit!” Thumper said. “Pure corn-fed bullshit!”
“Do you have the signed release?” Melvin asked.
Brower shook his head. “He stated it expressly, in my presence. Deputy Collins was also present for the statement. He refused to sign anything but verbally waived right to counsel.”
“Then it’s not official,” Melvin said.
“As far as we’re concerned, it is. You doubt our word?”
“Fuck yeah, we doubt it. Slick would never waive right to counsel!” Thumper said, hammering the glass counter with his fist once again. It shattered and the cops jumped.
“What the hell is going on out here?”
Rawlings stormed out of his office, face beet red and jowls flaring. “I’m on the phone with the governor’s office and I can’t hear myself think! What the fuck—”
Rawlings stopped on a dime when he saw the three men at the counter.
“Navajo Joe,” he said to the huge state trooper. “It figures, whenever I get a pain in my balls, you show up. What do you want?”
“Sheriff Ted. What do I want? Gun control, socialized medicine and world peace, among other things,” the big man said. “The list goes on and on.”
“You mean you don’t get all that on the reservation as part of your government handout package, along with the free smokes and scotch?”
“Not yet, anyway, maybe someday, but what I want is beside the point. I’m here in an unofficial capacity, strictly as an observer,” Navajo Joe said.
“Then do me a favor and unofficially observe somewhere else.”
“Be happy to. Let this lawyer see his client and we’ll be on our way.”
“Who’s his client?”
“Jon Elder, as I told this fat fucking moron behind the counter,” Thumper said.
“Wait, who the hell are you? You don’t talk to my deputies like that—”
“My name’s Tommy Olson and I talk how I want to who I want whenever I want, last I checked, this was still America and we have free fucking speech!” Thumper said.
“Keep it up and I’ll arrest you for disturbing the peace—”
“And I’ll be happy to appear as witness before the judge,” Navajo Joe said, “and tell him I saw that Tommy, the defendant in question, wasn’t disturbing the peace.”
“In other words,” Thumper said, “go fuck yourself, Sheriff.”
Rawlings stared at Navajo Joe and Thumper, plainly furious. Melvin was a smart enough lawyer to know when to keep his mouth shut and stayed out of it. Rawlings looked to Brower, asking a silent question.
“Defendant waived his right to counsel,” Brower said.
“Without a signed waiver, it’s not official,” Melvin said. “So, unfortunately, I cannot accept that.”
Brower and
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