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Life, 2.0Chapter 10 free porn video
Vic Moreno was arrested outside of Cody, Wyoming one week after Jackie’s funeral. He had been holed up in a cabin in the hills west of town, and he was driving in for supplies in a beat-up old Ford Ranger when a state patrol officer stopped him to advise him that his left taillight was out. During a routine license and registration check, the office recognized the name and arrested him on the spot.
Sheriff Garrett and a deputy drove up to Cody to pick him up. A search of the cabin didn’t turn up any firearms, and Moreno claimed to know nothing about the shootings – but then that was expected.
He was brought back and booked into the county jail on charges of murder, attempted murder, attempted extortion and FTA. The arraignment judge denied bail.
Considerably relieved by Moreno’s arrest, Cheyenne came back to the motel and we took up living together in the apartment. That arrangement didn’t really require any discussion, it just seemed like the right thing to do.
The bar was no longer considered a crime scene, so we opened for business a couple of days later. It quickly became apparent how much energy and efficiency Jackie poured into running the place. How she managed when no one was around to help was beyond me.
Still, we were determined to make it work. I tended bar and waited tables, Cheyenne took care of the motel, Francis cooked and Leonard did what he always did. It wasn’t the same old Leonard though. He plodded through his work like an automaton, and he didn’t smile any more. It was like losing Jackie had sapped most of the life out of him.
Jimmy pitched in wherever he was needed the most. Very much to our surprise, he said he wanted to stay on and invest in the business, possibly even buy it outright, if Cheyenne was interested. I could tell from her expression when he brought up the idea that she was very interested, but she held off making any decision, saying she wanted to think about it for a while. It had been more than just a home to her and Jackie, and she felt that selling out would be the final acknowledgement of her mother’s departure from her world.
Jimmy tended bar during my nightly shows. He’d never done it before, but he was a quick study and he was soon whipping out mixed drinks and pulling glasses of beer like a pro. He wouldn’t accept a penny for his time.
I was curious to know his motivation for staying, since the woman he loved and wanted to marry was no longer in the equation. He said, “I’ve been planning to quit the trucking business for a long time, but I don’t want to sit around on my ass watching soap operas. When I sat at the bar talking to Jackie and saw how nearly all the people who came in were like family to her, I guess I fell in love with the idea of being a part of it. I really felt at home here. I guess I still feel at home here.”
“Yeah,” I agreed, “I felt the same way when I drifted in here last summer.”
So, Jimmy was part of our family now. We still hadn’t heard a thing from Franky.
Thanksgiving dinner was at the ranch. The motel was empty, so we closed everything down and drove out that morning to help Kasuma with the preparations. She outdid herself with a feast of wild turkey, venison, roasted yams and corn cakes made from a recipe traditional with her people. Cheyenne contributed a Waldorf salad Jackie taught her to make, and Jimmy made himself useful helping Kasuma in the kitchen by cleaning up dishes, pots and pans as they were used. Frank and I were pretty much useless, and we did our part by watching football and staying out of everybody’s way.
That evening, Kasuma surprise everybody, especially Cheyenne by bringing a birthday cake with eighteen candles into the living room where we all sat recovering from the awesome dinner. I didn’t even know it was Cheyenne’s birthday, but Kasuma did. Don’t ask me how. Sometimes it seems like she knows everything.
We stayed late and didn’t get back to the motel that night until after ten. I knew there wouldn’t be many people coming for breakfast, so I called Francis before we went to bed and told her not to come in until around ten to start cooking stuff up for lunch.
Next morning, Cheyenne started to get up with me, but I pushed her face back down into the pillow and insisted she sleep in. We’d done our best to wear each other out before we finally crashed, so she didn’t object very strenuously. Jimmy took off to Billings to meet a guy who was interested in buying his rig. He said he’d be back in a day or two.
A little after eight, Frank showed up bearing dishes of leftovers. I laughed and asked him if Kasuma would be insulted if we added them as side dishes for the lunch crowd, if there was one.
“I’m sure she’d be happy with that.” I set a cup of coffee in front of him as he sat at the bar.
A guy wearing a heavy leather jacket and a cowboy hat followed him in the door and sat at the end booth. I walked over to take his order but he just wanted coffee. Every time I glanced his way, I could see he was watching Frank and me, and it was beginning to make me feel a little edgy. I’d never seen him before, and neither had Frank.
When he finished his coffee, he stood and moved toward the register, reaching for his wallet. At least I thought he was reaching for his wallet. It was a long-barreled revolver.
He put the end of the barrel against my chest and quietly suggested Frank and I step into the kitchen for a little chat. I thought I was going to pee my pants, but Frank looked as cool as ice.
“Look,” I said over my shoulder as I pushed through the door, “If you’re looking to rob us, just go ahead and take what’s in the register. I’ve got no money on me.”
“He ain’t robbin’ us,” Frank said, “He wants somethin’ else.”
The guy just smiled and said, “Hey, you’re pretty smart for an old man. You’re right, though, I’m already being paid pretty well.” He kind of shook his head and with a sneer on his face and added, “You know, you guys are damned hard to kill. Two shots and two misses. You know, that’s playin’ hell with my reputation.”
As his comment soaked in, my rage overshadowed my fear. “You killed Jackie? You FUCK!”
He didn’t like that. He raised the gun and put the barrel against my forehead and hissed, “That was your fault, asshole! If you’d stood still for another second, maybe she’d still be alive!” As fast as his temper flared, it was gone. He gave a little shrug and said, “Let’s just call Jackie’s demise collateral damage.”
My eyes picked up movement and I looked over the guy’s shoulder to see Leonard step from behind the utility closet door. He just stood there watching us. I could practically see his brain struggling to make sense of what he’s just heard.
Franks saw him too, and presumably playing for time, asked in a tone that sounded like he was just passing the time of day, “So, who do you work for? Halbart?”
The guy chuckled, “Oh, very good, Mr. Cawley! Since you’re both about to be corpses, I guess I can share that. Mr. Anders sends his regards. I guess with you out of the way, he figures he can do business with that moron who claims to be your son.”
I kept glancing at Leonard and waiting for him to make some noise that would distract the guy’s attention. I wasn’t going to give up without a fight, and the moment I saw him react to a noise behind him, I was going to grab for the gun. I knew it might be the last thing I ever did, but if he didn’t kill me outright, I was going to do my best to end his miserable life before I died. I figured I owed Jackie that much.
When it finally soaked into Leonard’s sluggish brain that the guy whose back he was staring at had killed Jackie, his eyes narrowed and he began to shake with rage. The shooter didn’t have a clue he was there until he heard a hair-raising scream of rage as Leonard charged him. The guy spun and fired once, hitting Leonard in the left shoulder. It was enough to slow him, but not by much. He plowed into the guy like an all-pro linebacker, sending him flying into Frank and I and knocking all three of us to the floor. Leonard was straddling his chest in an instant. He grabbed two fistfuls of hair and started pounding the guy’s head on the concrete floor as he screamed, “You hurt Jackie, you hurt Jackie, you hurt Jackie.” The guy was probably unconscious on the first bounce, but Leonard didn’t know that, and he didn’t care. He just kept slamming.
Frank had the presence of mind to grab the guy’s gun hand and point the barrel toward the ceiling as his finger kept pulling the trigger reflexively, firing off three more shots before going completely limp. I jumped up and tried to pull Leonard off because I thought he’d already killed the man. It took Frank and I both to finally get him to stop.
Madison
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