Peckerwood Read Online Free PDF Page B

taters.”
    She had spritzed the table with bleach water and he held the coffee close to his face to mask the scent. He scalded his tongue with the first sip, then set it down and began to work the knots out of his neck with his fingers.
    “Mornin’ Sheriff.” He heard Etta say two seconds after leaving his breakfast potatoes beside his coffee.
    “Mornin’ Etta. Just a coffee please.”
    Chowder looked toward the front where Jimmy Mondale was standing tall and rigid like he was getting his picture took. The sheriff looked around the room that way that cops do. Seeming casual, but not missing anything. When Jimmy spotted Chowder he made his way down to his booth.
    “Mornin Chowder.”
    “Hey, Sheriff.”
    “Is that Irm sleeping in your truck?”
    “Probably.”
    “You two go fishing?”
    “Something like that.”
    “Here you go, Sheriff.” Etta placed a Styrofoam cup on the end of the counter and Jimmy reached over for it. “Say, it’s nice to see Eileen back in town.”
    “Is it?”
    “When did she get back?”
    “Got me, I haven’t seen her yet.”
    “Well she looks good. Was with a fella, though.” Etta rolled her eyes, “You tell her for me - she could do better.”
    “Thanks, Etta. Keep the change.” Jimmy sat down at Chowder’s booth.
    “Everything go okay?”
    Chowder nodded.
    “Memphis is still in Tennessee?”
    “Some of it’s in Kentucky.”
    “There’s a situation come up, concerns you.”
    Chowder popped some breakfast potatoes in his mouth and packed them into his cheek like hot savory chaw. He sucked the salt out before swallowing the starchy wad and steeled himself for this latest development with a swig of coffee. “What kind of situation?” Mondale gave Chowder an extra moment to prepare, which only made the big man irritated. “Spit it out.”
    “Assistant State’s Attorney.”
    Chowder’s grip on the coffee mug constricted until the handle came off in his fingers. A redness peeked up over the line of his beard until it touched his eyes. “What about him?” he said, holding his breath.
    “Got a bug up his ass. Says he’s got an informant.”
    “Bullshit.”
    “I’ll be receiving him this week. In fact, I shouldn’t be seen talking with you long.”
    Chowder dropped the broken china handle on the table before it was reduced to dust in his grip.
    Jimmy eased his posture a little. “I’m working on it. Let’s go fishing tomorrow. Talk about it then. Just thought you oughtta know up front.” He stood back up and knocked on the Formica tabletop. He strolled toward the door and held it open for Irm, who looked her usual sunshiny self. Jimmy smiled at her and Chowder read Irm’s lips from across the room. Lick my cunt.
    Outside, the sheriff glad-handed a couple of citizens in the parking lot, shooting the shit about weather, high school sports, wives and kids. Chowder looked around the diner at the customers, thinking how much damage he could do taking a fall. Mondale had to be nervous. Their fates were intertwined. His precious little community would crucify him if they knew what kinds of things their bland and easy-going Sheriff Mondale was up to, running dope and whores, killing off the competition. Chowder and the sheriff had consolidated and regulated all the narcotics traffic in Hamilton County over the past ten years and it had not been done with a kind word. Ask Bug. The price of keeping independent was one they had and would continue to pay together. The lawman had to be making his BVDs damp at the thought of some loud-mouth speaking to a State’s Attorney. He had as much to lose as Chowder did. Yeah, he was nervous.
    Through the window, he watched Mondale climb into his cruiser and smile at some Christian folk pulling in for breakfast. Chowder admired the sheriff’s cool as he gripped his mangled coffee mug and took a sip.
    Irm was wiping the corners of her mouth with her palm when she sat down opposite him. Her face was still smudged black in spots and