Riders of the Wind

Deep furrows were etched into Woody’s brow when he stepped out of the garage door. A grimy index finger scratched away at grease stained, dirty blonde locks. He summoned his best western drawl and his courage. “Phones dead, never happened before in my remembrance. You fellers are plumb out of luck. Just have to wait until morning. Jeff comes in about eight.”
The sheriff’s car screeched to a stop and added more dust to the evening air. “Ought to oil the hinges,” he pushed the heavy car door open. “You gents intend to spend the night here?” Billings kept his hand away from the colt forty five hanging low on his right side.
“Not planning on it sheriff, but we got a Hog that needs fixing. If we can get a mechanic to do the repairs, we’ll be on our way.” Chris felt panic building in his mind. Bad things were starting to pile up. First Wolf broke a girls jaw and now this hick town sheriff was putting his big noise into their business. “Any good places to eat?”
Billings returned the steady, steely eyed gaze with one of his own. “Pretty good food at the road house. Woody, give that old fart Jeff a call. Tell him the sheriff said to get off his fat ass and haul it and the rest of him down here right now.”
“Already tried to, phones dead though.”
Little flash bulbs started going off in the sheriff’s mind. “You gents wouldn’t know anything about this, would you?”
“Not us sheriff, we are as innocent as newborn lambs,” Wolf grinned. “What’s the food like in the diner?”
“Why, it’s the.”
Tom cut Robert off mid-sentence, “It’s the worst food in town. If you want good chow, Sally’s Roadhouse is the place for you. Come on Woody, let’s go and drag Jeff away from his game. Come on Robert, I’ll drop you and your mutt off at your place.”
Robert asked, “Why did you tell them the food is better at the road house. You know darn well the diner’s food is better.”
“Hell Robert, you weren’t born yesterday. Do you think I want that bunch ogling my Martha, or doing something worse? Martha doesn’t know about wild ones like that. I don’t want her to either. The sooner old Jeff gets the bike fixed, the sooner they’ll be gone.”
“Sorry Tom, I didn’t think.”
“That’s why I’ll do the thinking for both of us. Now, you just stay at home and let me handle this. Funny though, about all of the phones being dead, mighty funny. Once these bikers are gone I’ll drive up to Littlton and see if their phones are working.
Woody hollered from the back seat, “Why don’t you go now.”
Tom turned his steel grey eyes away from the roadway and glared at Woody’s image in the rear view mirror. “I don’t want a bunch of state cops getting all excited and riding rough shod over anyone. I just want that gang out of town.”


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