Edward Lee Read Online Free PDF

week."

    "Them's the finest boots in the blammed county, daggit! Won't find finer, long-lastin' boots nowheres, not even in one of the big city stores!"

    Nedder Kinney laughed, flecks of stuff fallin' from his black beard. "Dumbest-ass thing I ever heard'n my life anyways, a shoemaker with no feet." He slapped down a crumpled sawbuck. "I'se pay ten, ya footless old fuck, which is more'n a white trash old coot like you deserves anyways. Don't like it? What'cha gonnas do about it?'

    And with that remark, Nedder Kinney busted out a good guffaw, clopped out the house, and droved off in his pickup.

    Travis felt a right bad, he did, lookin' in that winder and seein' poor old Grandpap sittin' in that blammed chair with just hairy stumps where his feet used ta be. Travis could 'magine his grandfather's frustration, old, weak, can't walk or stand up. Folks could just rip him off any ol' time they pleased, because that stinkin' rot-tooth cracker galoot Nedder Kinney were shore right about one thing: there weren't nothin' in the world ol' Grandpap could do about it.

    Naw, I reckon there ain't , Travis thought. But there's shore's shit somethin' I can do about it ...

    ........

    "So you're the big bad fed Spaz has been raving about?'

    "That's right," Cummings said. "And you must be Dutch, the big bad dope runner."

    Dutch had long blond hair and a hatchet face. Lean. Hard. A skull tattoo on his forearm. Cummings sat down in a dilapidated chair as Spaz, brought out beers.

    "And what's this deal of yours?"

    "I'll make one run per week to your points." Cummings said, sipping cold Jax. "For a thousand bucks a month."

    Silence dropped like a coffin lid. Cummings knew he had Dutch thinking. Spaz stood in the corner, a twitching shadow.

    "Sounds good," Dutch eventually broke the quiet. "Too good, if you ask me. You're a fuckin' cop, man. Why should I trust you?"

    "'Cos I'm the most trustworthy crooked cop in town. You think this is a setup? You think I'm wired? Search me. And ask Spaz. I've been covering his hooch points for six months."

    "Yeah, Dutch." Spaz piped in, face ticking. He was probably on speed today. "Stew here's straight up."

    "Straight up." Dutch mimicked. "How come a cop wants to work for a guy like me?"

    Cummings' hands unfolded before him. It was time for his spiel. "Oldest reason in the world, Dutch. I need money. I got a sick wife who's getting sicker; each week she needs another medication that costs a fuckin' arm and a leg, and the bread the feds pay me wouldn't buy a good box lunch.

    I been bending over backwards for the ATF for 10 years, and I haven't even gotten one promotion, while everyone else in this shit-stinking world makes out like a bandit. Now its my turn to make out. Fuck it. I'm going on the pad. You don't want to work with me, fine. I'm sure I can find some other dope dealer who'd like to have a federal cop in his pocket."

    The look on Dutch's face broadened; the point, obviously, drove home. "One run per week to my points, and a thousand a month in your till?"

    "That's Right."

    Dutch's steely eyes leveled. "How much product per ran?"

    "As much as you can stuff into the trunk of my federal police car." Cummings answered.

    Dutch eased back in his chair, lowering his beer in a lax grace. Then, for the first time, he smiled. "I think we can work with this." he said.

    ........

    "Hump that head, boy!" Grandpap wailed. " Hump it!"

    And Travis, he humped like a trooper, he did, that big cherrywood work table thunkin' with each hump. Travis' bone never felt so hard in his life, no sir, as it were right now slidin' in an' outa Chessy Kinney's head as she lay like a sidled-over Berkshire hog on the table. Travis had seed her pickin' raspberries just 'fore nightfall, big as a Berkshire hog herself inna puke-green sundress, all big tits an' belly strainin' against the flinty material, ratty brown hair hangin' in ropes 'round her fat face. Travis had offered her a ride home in his pickup, then