Tinseltown Riff Read Online Free PDF

camping trip. Knowing diddly about camping or where the fish were running or what bait and tackle he’d need. The little guy was probably sitting there right now, scouring a map, figuring his next move. Maybe even wondering how in hell he could hit a bunch of trailheads and lodges till he made his way across into Canada.
    Deke crouched down and watched as a scrawny shape flitted by the window and flitted back. Against the glow of the lantern, the figure looked like a sputtering shadow-puppet.
    Deke checked his watch. It was going on six-thirty mountain time with only the  afterglow left of daylight. The last thing Deke needed was to waste any more time and wind up traipsing back in the pitch dark. Running into some grizzly cub looking for its mother or worse.  
    When he glanced back, the flitting figure was gone.
    On his feet, keeping low, he skirted around to the log railing, assuming the guy must have flopped down on a chair just inside the back door. But he no sooner reached the edge of the plank steps when something clobbered him in the back. Tripping and twisting around, he threw up his hands just in time to avert the next blow.
    â€œYou’re trespassing,” said the scrawny figure. “I have a receipt. I’m renting this cabin so you’d better clear out.”
    Regaining his balance, Deke just simply glared at him.  
    â€œAh,” said the little guy dropping the chunk of firewood. “I know what you’re thinking. Actually, I don’t know what you’re thinking but let me guess. You’re a caretaker or something—sure, that’s it.  But why did you sneak around? Why didn’t you knock?”
    Still motionless, it was all Deke could do to keep from losing it then and there.  
    â€œAh,” said the little guy once more, clutching his oversized windbreaker, kneading it with both hands. “I’ve got it. You’re with the park service worried about the fires. Boy, you can still smell the soot, can’t you? Well, there’s no need to worry about me. I am not the type to use a fireplace without observing every safety precaution.”
    The little guy kept rattling on, as if there was some straw he could grasp if he could talk fast enough.
    Deke told himself not to throttle him. This was only lost and found. Not worth the effort.
    â€œRight,” said Deke as he stepped onto the porch and flung open the screen door.
    â€œHey, come on,” said the little guy, bolting past him through the doorway and fronting him. “Whoever you are, I’m sure we can straighten this out.”
    â€œForget it,” said Deke, spotting the attaché case. “It’s over.”
    â€œOh, now I get it. I get it. You’re the one who’s been hounding me.”
    Deke flipped the latches and spotted the CDs, ledgers and registers. He was about to snap the case shut when he caught the little guy glancing over toward the wall. There atop a knotty pine bureau lay a high-end smartphone and a tri-fold wallet. Noting the ID window and the fully stuffed credit card pockets, Deke tossed both of them in and secured the case.  
    â€œNo, wait a minute, you can’t do this.”
    â€œRight.”
    â€œListen to me. That’s robbery.  Not to mention you’re messing with the S.E.C.--  the Securities and Exchange Commission, in case you didn’t know it. And that’s not the half of it.  Do you realize how far this thing goes? You don’t, do you? Because if you did, you’d hand that case right back to me and get lost.”
    â€œOh, sure.”