Read Blanco County 04 - Guilt Trip for Free Online

fooling around on his wife, but don’t you think we need to know exactly what we’re talking about here?”
    Heads nodded in agreement.
    Barry Yates, another old-timer, said, “Yeah, Chuck, I don’t know about this. We’ve sunk a lot of money into that boy over the years. He’s on the right committee and all. Hate to see it go to waste.”
    “I understand that perfectly, Barry. I’m just saying it’s one way we could go.”
    Lance Longley said, “Didn’t Herzog try to reason with this scumbag? I mean, shit, he might as well try and make it illegal to wear cowboy boots. Ain’t no way something like that’ll ever pass. We’ve been through all of this before.”
    “Herzog said he told him that.”
    “But what about the photos?” Hobbs asked again. “Do we know what they show?”
    All the men looked to Hamm for an answer.
    Hamm knew this was a delicate topic. “Well, no, not exactly.”
    “What’s that mean?”
    “Far as I can tell, there’s some nudie shots of Herzog and the woman. But, hey, at least it is a woman. Beyond that, he wouldn’t tell me.”
    “Oh, man,” Longley said, shaking his head, “this could be brutal. For all we know, the guy’s into S and M or something weird like that.”
    Barry Yates leaned toward Dexter Ashby. “S and what?”
    Ashby shrugged.
    No one spoke for several moments as they all pondered the predicament.
    Then Longley said, “You think this has something to do with Scofield? You gotta admit, it’s pretty weird. Herzog gets this phone call, and then one of our former members—”
    “Christ, Lance, don’t let your imagination run away with you,” Hamm said. “It was just an accident. Vance got stupid and tried to cross. So let’s get back to the original issue. What are we gonna do about the photos?”
    The room got noisy as some of the men began to argue, offering differing opinions on the right course of action. Hamm decided the time was right, so he said, “There is something else we could try.”
    Again, the men all went silent.
    “Well…what?” Longley asked.
    “It’s simple, really,” Hamm said. “We find out who the blackmailer is.”
    Now the room was still. Nobody wanted to voice the next question, the obvious one. Hobbs finally spoke up. “Okay, so maybe we get lucky and track him down. Then what?”
    Everyone looked at Hamm.
    “Then,” he offered, “we firmly point out that he’s playing dirty pool.” Hamm gave a broad grin. “We convince him to be a nicer man.”
    “We?” Longley asked, a trace of concern on his face.
    “Well, to get technical, no, not us. But I happen to know a guy who can handle this kind of thing just fine.”
    Longley said, “Someone you can trust? I mean, we don’t want this thing getting out of hand.”
    “I agree,” Hamm said, nodding. “No, the man I have in mind is perfect. He has a delicate touch.”
    Buford Rhodes hoped they wouldn’t have to turn the surgeon’s hand into a mangled stump, but you never could tell. Buford’s partner, Little Joe Taggart, was right there egging him on, but Buford knew he had to play it cool. Disfigure the guy, and then what? Guy can’t earn. Can’t pay back the money he owes. And then Buford’s client Emo—Fort Worth’s top bookie—would be pissed as hell. Yeah, there’s a certain satisfaction in enforcing the rules—especially when the client turns out to be a prick, like this guy—but you can’t lose your head in these situations. End up with a reputation as a hothead and then you’re screwed. Clients like Emo no longer want your services. Even the bail bondsmen Buford worked for on occasion wouldn’t want a guy who brings the skips back on a stretcher every time.
    They were in the surgeon’s kitchen. Guy named Winsted. Buford didn’t know if it was the man’s first name or last, but he didn’t care. The critical fact was this: Winsted owed Emo seventeen five, and it was way overdue. According to Emo—telling Buford things he didn’t need to