Red: The Adventure Begins

by Darrell Maloney

  Their thinking was that the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence. And that perhaps Austin, with more resources and more people, somehow found a way to get their power back on.

  Many of the residents left in Blanco seldom ventured from their homes. It wasn’t that there was a lot to do there. But there wasn’t much to do in town, either. So they sat in their homes reading old books or magazines in front of a window, or stayed in bed for half a day, or commiserated with their loved ones.

  And those people grew more and more depressed as each day passed.

  It had gotten so bad that many times during the day Main Street was completely deserted, except for John Savage in his bank and Butch Poston in his hardware store.

  Many only ventured out now to attend the daily gathering. And that was only to collect free food and to find out which of their friends and neighbors had just died.

  Judge Dan Moore was an exception. He still kept up his own habits, of rising at the crack of dawn and wandering down to the Coffee Barn.

  He usually drank his coffee alone now, though.

  Because he was frequently the Barn’s only customer at that time of day.

  But not on this particular morning.

  Because Butch walked in.

  Chapter 53

  “Mind if I join you, Judge?”

  “Hello, Butch. Please, pull up a chair. It’s been a month of Sundays since I’ve had a chance to talk to you. How have you been?”

  “Well, no worse than anyone else, I guess.”

  “Is there anything in particular on your mind?”

  “Yes. My grandson and son-in-law were murdered. And we no longer have a police department. I want your advice on how to proceed.”

  “Whoa, back up a bit. Why do you think it was murder?”

  “Because the explosion happened before the fire. Not the other way around. If the house had caught on fire, and then had caused something inside the house to explode, then Russell and Rusty would have had time to get out. That didn’t happen.

  “And no one reported seeing flames or smelling smoke before the explosion. Their house was on a hill. Mr. and Mrs. Watson were sitting on their front porch a hundred yards away. They could plainly see the house. They said there was no hint of a fire before the blast.

  “And finally, there was nothing stored at or near the house that would cause an explosion of that magnitude. The house was less than two years old, and completely modern. It was all electric. No gas, no liquid petroleum. The only combustible items in that house were a few aerosol cans. Spray paints, hair spray, cooking spray. Those kinds of things.

  “There was absolutely nothing in or near that house that would cause an explosion.”

  Moore rubbed his chin. He’d always done that when he was thinking.

  “So… who would have gained from their deaths?”

  “That’s just it, Judge. I don’t know. I can’t for the life of me figure that out. But I somehow get the sense John Savage is directly responsible for it, or at least knows something about it.”

  “Oh, don’t you be like everybody else in this town, Butch. Nobody likes Savage, so they tend to blame him for everything that goes wrong.

  “Hell, there are even people in this town who think he had something to do with the blackout.

  “But let me tell you something. Just because a man is a greedy cretin doesn’t make him guilty of everything bad that happens. I’m sure he’s guilty of a lot of things. But it’s also possible he’s completely innocent of this particular thing. Don’t let your spite for the man run amuck.

  “The other thing is, assuming he is guilty, you have to have some kind of proof. Assuming he wouldn’t confess his guilt, you’d have to have an investigation by a law enforcement agency. You’d have to have witnesses or evidence or both. Only then could we put him on trial and let a jury hear the evidence. And only then could we decide whether he’s guilty or innocent.”

  At that moment, Leslie came over to offer Butch some coffee.

  “I’m afraid I can’t pay you, Leslie. Nothing of value, anyway. My gold and silver supply is kind of sparse, I’m afraid.”

  “Don’t worry about it, Butch. I was just telling the judge a few minutes ago that I don’t do this to make a living anymore. I do it just to get me out of the house, and to have something to do.

  “And besides, the coffee doesn’t cost me anything. It comes off the Walmart truck and I get it at the daily gathering. It would be unscrupulous to sell something I get for free, now wouldn’t it?”

  “Yeah, I suppose. In that case, I’d like a cup, and thank you.”

  “Cream or sugar?”

  “Nope. I like it as black as the devil’s heart.”

  Leslie went off to pour his coffee and the old judge continued.

  “Have you got anything that would convict Savage of murder, or conspiracy to commit murder?”

  “No. It’s just a hunch.”

  “Juries don’t convict people on hunches, my friend. Perhaps you should just admit to yourself that your hunch is based on your dislike for the man, and not because he’s guilty of anything.”

  “No. I’m convinced, Judge. I may not be able to prove it, but he’s involved in some manner. I just know it.”

  “Well, ordinarily I’d tell you to go to the Blanco County Sheriff’s Office. But that’s no longer an option.”

  “Why?”

  “Do you know Jake Nelson?”

  “Yes. He’s a sheriff’s deputy, isn’t he?”

  “He was. He was laid off, along with most of the others. The sheriff decided to disband the department in light of them no longer having patrol vehicles or radios or any other means of doing their jobs. He kept just enough volunteers to run the jail, and he only did that because he didn’t want to set the prisoners free among the town.”

  “Well, in a town where there’s no police force, and no sheriff, who is the next step up on the ladder?”

  “The Texas Rangers. But to get them involved you’d have to go to Austin to talk to them. Then they’d have to be willing to take on the case. It would be highly unusual for them. They normally don’t get involved in small town murders, unless there’s a chance a law enforcement official at a lower level was involved.

  “And even if they did agree to take the case, they’re in the same boat the sheriff’s office was. No vehicles, no computers, no phones or radios.

  “I’m afraid, my friend, that if there ever was a time in the history of our country for someone to commit a double murder and get away with it, this would be it.”

  “So where does that leave me?”

  “Up a creek, I suppose.”

  “What’s your take on vigilante justice, Judge?”

  “I don’t like it. In the frontier days it was frequently administered by people whose town marshals or sheriffs were corrupt. Or in towns which had no law enforcement officials. And it could be quite effective. The problem was, sometimes people were hung or shot not because they were guilty of anything. But because people just flat didn’t like them.

  “Which brings us back to your dislike of John Savage. If you can bring me enough proof to justify an indictment, I promise you I’ll proceed with the case against him. Even if I have to come out of retirement to do so. But failing that, you just leave that man alone.

  “A lot of things have changed since the blackout, Butch. But we still live in a country where a man is considered innocent until proven guilty.

  “Even a man like John Savage. You remember that.”

  Chapter 54

  Word had gotten around town that Butch Poston was going to meet with the town council and ask them to appoint a new police chief.

  Butch’s thinking was simple.

  If Blanco had a police department, even if it consisted of only one man, there would be someone to investigate the murders.

  If the new chief came up with some evidence, Butch knew that Judge Moore would petition one of the sitting judges for an indictment. />
  And the story would come out.

  Several things still bugged Butch, though.

  Why would anyone want to do harm to Russell and Rusty? They’d certainly never hurt anyone else in Blanco. If anyone could be described as innocents, it would be those two.

  Was Red the real target? She’d never willingly harmed anyone in Blanco either. But she’d ruffled a lot more feathers than her husband or son.

  What if it wasn’t a revenge killing? What if there was another motive?

  Generally the only thing that motivated John Savage was money. But the financial system had collapsed. Money was now worthless.

  The only thing really worth anything anymore was gold and silver. And life-preserving food.

  But Red and Russell had no gold or silver to speak of, aside from their jewelry. And they had precious little food in their house.

  Had someone broken into Red’s house and stolen her jewelry? And then blown up the house to cover up the crime?

  It made no sense. And further, it failed the logic test. The burglar would have had to leave to get the explosives, wait until the house was unoccupied so he could plant them, and then either wait or come back later to detonate them. If he waited, he would have seen the home’s occupants return. If he came back, he would assume they were home since it was after dark and the streets were virtually empty.

  And in either case, why would he tack a felony murder charge onto petty theft?

  None of it was adding up.

  But if Red had been the target, and had survived the blast, there was a good chance she was still a target.

  Red decided to pay Crazy Eddie Simms a visit.

  He rode his horse Trigger.

  Simms heard the clop, clop, clop of Trigger’s hooves against the hard ground from two hundred yards away and peeked out his living room window.

  “Hello in the house. It’s Butch Poston. I mean you no harm. I’m just here to trade.”

  Simms emerged from the house and stepped onto the front porch.

  “Hello, Butch.”

  “Hello, Eddie.”

  “I never expected to see you here. I should be pissed at you for offering to give your well water to the townsfolk for free. You cut into my water selling business.”

  “I reckon you’ll eventually sell your water. There are a lot of people who didn’t take me up on my offer.”

  “Yeah, I reckon. What are you looking for, exactly?”

  “Word around town is that you were able to protect some electric and electronic items from being damaged. I’m looking for some walkie talkies.”

  “How many, and do you have sold or silver to pay?”

  “Only two. And I have a few silver coins.”

  “Let me see them.”

  Butch took out a purple Crown Royal bag and tossed it to the man.

  He said, by way of explanation, “Those are what’s left of the coin collection I had when I was a boy. It took me almost a full day of digging through boxes in my attic to find them. I figure they ain’t doing me much good anyway.”

  Simms looked through the bag of Peace and Liberty silver dollars from the early 1900s.

  “You’ve got a pretty good collection here.”

  He held up a 1922 Peace dollar. The sun glimmered off its shiny surface. But it didn’t match the glimmer in the man’s eye.

  He waxed nostalgic.

  “I used to have one just like this one. Same year and mint. My Dad gave it to me for my twelfth birthday. Just before he got killed in a mining accident.

  “Later on I traded it and my other coins for a dirt bike. But my 1922 Peace dollar, that was the pride of my collection.”

  “Maybe that’s the same one. There can’t be too many of ‘em left.”

  “Maybe.”

  He looked through the rest of the coins.

  “I’ve always liked you, Butch. You’ve always been a straight shooter and a fair man. When others in the town avoided me and said vile things about me, you defended me and told them to let me be.

  “Even when you talked folks out of buying my water, I respected you for it.

  “I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I do indeed have a set of Motorola walkie talkies. They’re brand new. The price tag on them is four thousand dollars, gold or silver. You don’t have anywhere near that here. You have about twenty five hundred by weight.”

  “They’d be worth more than that to a coin collector.”

  “Maybe once upon a time, Butch. But I don’t imagine folks are collecting coins anymore. We’ve gone full circle. These old coins were once used to buy merchandize with. And I reckon they’ve gone back to that again with the paper dollar being worthless and all. But as I said, you’re one of the few men in town who I’ve liked and respected. So I have a deal to offer you.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “I want your 1922 Peace dollar. You’re right. There aren’t a lot of them anymore. And it might well be the very same one my daddy once gave me. Even if it ain’t, it brings back a lot of fine memories I thought I’d forgotten.

  “So here’s the deal if you want it. I will not sell you the walkie talkies. But I will rent them to you for one silver dollar per week. They run on AA batteries and I will supply you with them as well for no charge.

  “There are twenty seven dollars in your little bag. Use them as long as you need them, and if you bring them back in less than twenty seven weeks, I’ll keep a coin for each week you used them. The first one I’ll keep will be the 1922 Peace.”

  “What if I need them past the twenty seven weeks?”

  “Then we’ll call this a down payment. You’ll still have a balance of thirteen hundred to pay off, but that’ll give you twenty seven weeks to find it and pay off your balance. I know you well enough to know you’re an honest man. You’re one of the few people I’d trust to make such an arrangement with.”

  Butch reached out his hand. Unlike most of the townsfolk, he harbored no animosity toward Simms. He was a little peculiar, sure. But then so were a lot of other country folk.

  And to Butch’s knowledge, he’d never harmed anyone. There were a lot of townspeople who looked down on Simms who couldn’t make that claim.

  Simms took Butch’s hand and shook it to seal the deal.

  “You’re the closest thing I have to a friend in this town, Butch. It’s nice doing business with you.”

  “Thank you for that, Eddie. I’ve always considered you a friend. I’ll take good care of your walkie talkies, and will see you again in a few weeks.”

  That said, Butch collected his merchandise and headed back to the clinic.

  He never saw the two men hiding in the woods watching him and Simms.

  Chapter 55

  “Well, well, well. I was beginning to think you didn’t love me anymore.”

  Butch walked over to the bed and kissed Red on her forehead.

  “Yeah, fat chance of that ever happening.”

  He looked to the young man sitting with Red and keeping her company.

  “Hello, Cody.”

  “Hello, Mr. Poston.”

  Cody had been sweet on Red since high school, but never got the gumption to do anything about it. By the time he got the nerve to ask her to the senior prom, it was too late. She’d already committed to going with someone else.

  Cody had told some of his friends that not pursuing Red sooner had been the biggest mistake of his life.

  But he took losing her well, and chalked it up to fate stepping in and intervening. And even he, in a toast at Red and Russell’s wedding reception, admitted that the new bride and groom made a perfect pair.

  Word had also gotten back to Butch that since the explosion killed her husband, Cody had been telling his friends that he planned to pursue her again someday. But not yet. He’d let her grieve and would give her some space.

  Then, when the time was right, he’d ask Butch’s permission to start courting her.

  Some might put two and two together and come up with five. Meaning, t
hey might remember that Cody once pined for Red and might wonder if he had something to do with the explosion.

  But anyone who might wonder about that didn’t really know Cody.

  For Cody was a gentle soul. He was Texas tough, sure. And he wouldn’t take any crap from anyone or back down from a fight. But he was as honest as the day was long, and he’d never harm anyone.

  Especially Red. And bringing harm to the man and son that Red loved so dearly would certainly cause her pain.

  Causing Red pain was something Cody would never tolerate.

  “You pulling the night shift, Cody?”

  “Yes, sir. And I’ll be here most of the day tomorrow too.”

  “Really? How come?”

  “Jessika was supposed to come in at dawn and relieve me. But her horse spooked and threw her and she hurt her back. So I sent word to her to stay home, said I’d pull her shift for her.”

  Red interjected, “Dad, I told them they don’t have to babysit me night and day. I’m a big girl now. I can do fine on my own.”

  “They know that, Red. They just care for you and want you to have somebody to talk to or cry with if you need it. And in Cody’s case, he’s here because he’s still sweet on you.”

  “Dad!”

  Butch smiled and Cody blushed. So did Red.

  “Now don’t you go and say you didn’t know, honey.”

  He turned to Cody and said, “And don’t you say it isn’t so, because I know better.”

  Cody stood up to the charge.

  “Yes sir, I reckon it is so. Red… she’s a special girl.”

  “I know that, Cody. You just be sure and respect her wishes, and don’t you go chasing her just yet. She’ll let you know when and if she’s ready.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And she, by the way,” Red said, “is right here.”

  Cody answered for both he and Butch when he said, “Yeah. We kinda noticed.”

  Red had noticed the box tucked under Butch’s arm when he walked in. She was tired of waiting to see what it was.

  “So, Dad, what’s in the box? Did you bring me a gift?”