Sheriff Porter 140 (edited)

We found one, and the three of us masturbated. I wasn’t at all sure who Girl Scout was but she was interesting. I wondered if she was Happy, or even if she was a she. I felt like I was pretty good with deciding who was real, and who was not. It didn’t bother me that they were plastic girls, it was just a curiosity thing. I felt like Girl Scout was a girl and quite likely Happy, but I would never know that was kind of our unspoken deal.

Whenever I went to one of the adult rooms it seemed for every ten men who hit on me, one woman hit on me. Probably one in five was a real woman. Most of those had some real mental issues, but then so did I. If not I wouldn’t be sitting in a chair drinking even after I had orgasmed. I still spoke with Girl Scout even after the guy had gone.

Me: You do know that was pretty kinky?

GS: Yeah, but so what? It’s only make believe.

Me: True. Well good night Girl Scout and you get a merit badge.

GS: I’m pretty sure he enjoyed you more, so take the merit badge yourself. Good night.

I slept the sleep that only comes after an orgasm. When I awoke before sunup, I got on the bike and rode to the car factory. Again the parking lot was empty. So there was only one shift, not three as the request for the grant promised. There appeared to be twenty-five or so cars leaving the plant at 4 PM, so two questions come to mind.

1. How does Evans plan to get away with the discrepancy?

2. How much could they be stealing from him that he needed to hire someone to track it down.

The answer to the first question was, I had no idea. I did know what I was going to do. I planned to take pictures of the empty parking lot with a date and time stamp on them. Just to prove no one was working in the plant at night. Well no one but the security guard.

The plant staff was too small for me to get a job inside. Even if I did, the odds were good Evan would spot me the first day and the investigation would end. I decided it was best to lay low and just keep doing the basics. Gather all the facts I could, then follow any leads I came up with.

I knew for one thing I had the camera coming Fed-Ex and I was going to place them and follow whatever leads they provided. Also there were the license number I had sent Wilson. He should be sending back information on them anytime now.

I went to breakfast that first morning at one of the fast food chains with which I was familiar. It wasn’t a day to experiment. I decided that after my dawn bike ride. The ride included stopping to take about fifty shots of the parking lot and the security guard napping.

The one thing different was that a large box van was backed up to the loading ramp. I waited a few minutes, but finally felt the need to leave with it still at the dock. I was afraid someone would notice the all-black figure on the bike. The one who wasn’t going anywhere but was taking picture of the plant. That would never do.

One more thing I decided needed changing was the bike. I had been made to sell not blend in with the night. A trip to Wal-Mart was called for along with about five dollars worth of flat black spray paint.

After breakfast I returned to the motel room to shower. In the parking lot of the motel I saw a girl who might have been eighteen, but it seemed unlikely. She was being dragged toward a room by a man about thirty. He held her by the coat, with a rabbit fur trim, as he pulled her toward a room.

I quickly walked to him and pulled him from behind. “Let her go you prick,” I said.

“Mind your own business bitch,” he said.

Since I had driven to Chattanooga I was fully equipped. I didn’t want to pull the .22 mag on him, since guns got a lot of attention even in those days. I chose instead the Air Force Pilot’s Survival knife. It wasn’t big and it wasn’t shiny but it got the thugs attention for sure when I held it to his throat. He had been so busy intimidating the youngster that he didn’t watch his back very well.

“This is my business, and if you call me bitch again, I’m going to cut your fucking ear off,” I said with a dangerous smile. “Now let her go or this is going to turn messy.”

“She works for me,” he said.

The kid was obviously a junkie whore. I turned my attention to her, “If you want to get away from his slimy ass this might be your last chance. You can run far and run fast right now,” I said to her. She took off.

“Now as for you,” I said to the man who was standing close with my arm around his throat and my survival knife pressing gently against his carotid artery. “If you ever do your business in this parking lot again, you better make fucking sure I’m not in it. I will kill your ass and dump what is left of you in the Tennessee River. Are we clear?”

When he didn’t move I choked him, then repeated. “Are we clear?” I asked again.

“Yes,” he croaked.

“Good now get your ass out of here.” I pushed him away and held the knife in the classic ‘on guard’ position until he fled.

He was gone when the police pulled into the parking lot. I surrendered the knife, the .22 mag revolver and my derringer to them while we talked. I showed them all the documentation for the weapons.

“So what brings you to Chattanooga,” the sergeant asked.

“Vacation,” I said.

“What was the altercation about?” he asked.

“What altercation?” I asked in return. “I was just returning to my room when you drove up. I stopped because I know it is never a good idea to run from a policeman.”

“Well,” the younger of the two said as he returned from the police car. “She does check out. She was once Sheriff of Warren County over the mountains.”

“Well, whatever you are doing here try to keep a lid on it. You don’t need us butting into your business,” he said. “And we don’t need you bringing your shit to Chattanooga.”

“No business, I’m just here on vacation. I came for waters,” I said.

“What waters?” the young cop asked.

“Get in the car,” the sergeant said to him. Then to me he said, “How many times did you see it?”

“About twenty, I was a huge Bogart fan when I was younger. You know the classic revival house ran that movie at least once a month,” I replied.

“Me too I have the digital remastered version, but it isn’t like sitting in a dark theater with a bucket of popcorn,” he said. He paused a minute then said, “Okay, you take care now.”

“Thanks Sergeant,” I said. I finally got back to the room and stripped off the all-black outfit. I took a not so quick shower and then dressed in jeans and a red and white striped tee shirt. After I was sure my hair was dry enough not to freeze to my head, I drove the six miles to the Wal-Mart store. I managed to find another black jogging suit and a couple of black sweatshirts. Then I bought five dollars worth of flat black spray paint.

“That’s a lot of black,” the old retired man said as he rang it up.

“It sure is but it looks so good with my fake blond hair,” I said.

“Don’t look fake to me,” he said with a smile.

I drove the Honda back to the motel. I got out of the Honda on high alert. I was pretty sure the pimp would be back. He kept his girls in line by being a bad ass. Word had spread by now that a woman had kicked his ass. That meant he would have to have revenge. I reached into the Wal-Mart plastic bag beside me on the passenger seat and removed a can of the spray paint. I removed the lid. I figured if he brought his friends, a face full of spray paint would make them stop and think twice.

Since I was ready, no one came for me. I was really a little disappointed to tell the truth. I went in and recovered the bicycle I kept inside the motel room. I rode off down the road expecting to have the pimp run my off the road the whole time, but nothing happened. I rode the bike till I came to an abandoned convenience store.

I hated to take the black spray paint to the two hundred dollar bike, but it really was way too shiny for surveillance work. I turned it upside down then made sure the wind was behind me when I shot that side of the bike. I turned the bike so I still sprayed with the wind behind me when I did the opposite side. Then finally set it upright to finish. The paint was fast drying since the day was sunny. I sat on the curb of the older convenience store while the bike dried. I had for sure ruined the bike’s value, but what the hell, I thought. After a two hour wait the bike was ready to ride back to the motel.

I had used the two hours to read the emails that Wilson sent me. One of the emails told me that he had sent my equipment to the motel with instructions for them to hold the package at the desk for me. Upon my return I checked with the older man who was also the manager, “Hey my name is Porter and I have a box coming by Fed-Ex would you hold it for me?”

“I already have it here for you,” he said.

“I appreciate it,” I said.

“There is a charge for mail service,” he suggested.

“Why am I not surprised. How much?” I asked.

“Five bucks,” he said.

Okay I’m going to take the bike up and come back for the box. Once in my room I checked my money clip. I removed a five, then went to the desk for my box. I had it in my hands while I climbed the single set of stairs. I saw the two tough guys on the landing between floors. The first thing I did was carefully put the box on one of the steps it hung over. Well that shit is going to get broken, I thought.

“So come on kids bring it on,” I said. They rushed me without a plan. They actually got in each other’s way in the confined stairway. The first ones momentum coming down the stairs was my best weapon. I side stepped him and pushed him on down the stairs. Of course the move carried me right into the arms of the second one.

I remembered something Reggie said to me once. “Boxing ain’t like street fights, boxing got rules,” he said. Since street fighting ain’t got no rules. I bit a chunk out of the arm trying to hold me. I mean a real chunk not just a bite. He let go and I’m sure I looked scary as hell. I had blood all over my face and I spit the mouth full of skin in his face then I hit him with a distracting pitty pat left jab as Reggie call my blows with the club fist. Then I hammered his nose with a hard right jab.

The baby thug saw my face covered in blood, then his partner covered with blood from his arm and nose and took off running. The second thug did the same. I was sure the pimp from the parking lot was waiting to hear how they had beat the shit out of me. I wished I had asked them where the pimp was hold up before they ran away.

Edited by Walt

About cindypress

sorry it is a mystery.
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4 Responses to Sheriff Porter 140 (edited)

  1. KiwiChris says:

    Thanks for the great writing! Keep it up.

  2. jackballs57 says:

    Another great chapter thanks.

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