Chapter 21

Heating Up The Kitchen

The telephone was ringing in the sheriff's office. "Sheriff Pendergrass here. What can I do for you?"

"Sheriff, this is Special Agent D.R. King of the Federal Bureau of Investigation. Is this a secure line we're talking on?"

"Well," the sheriff replied, "I'm not sure, but it's as secure as any line I've got. Is there something we need to keep a secret?"

"Well yes, Sheriff, I'm calling you in accordance with federal regulations to inform you of an on-going investigation we're conducting in your jurisdiction, but before I tell you any more, I think we should talk in private."

"Very well, Agent King. Are you already in town?"

"Yes Sir. I could meet with you anytime."

"Good," Sheriff Pendergrass said. "Being that it's almost time for lunch, why don't you meet me at the Country Kitchen Restaurant in about fifteen minutes? And if that's not private enough, then we can go somewhere else after we eat."

"I'll see you in about fifteen minutes, Sheriff."

"Good. I'll be looking for someone I don't know, who looks like a G-man."

"Excellent," Agent King laughed. "I'll see you there."

*****

"So John," Junior Ripley said to one of the men who had helped him beat Danny up, "was this guy the FBI arrested in Raleigh last week, one of your boys?"

"Yeah," John replied, "but he's not a problem."

"How's that?" Junior asked.

"He doesn't know enough to be a real threat. He's really no more than an errand boy. Somebody to take the fall if we start to draw a little heat. He only knows what I want him to know, and most of that's wrong so if he talks, he'll only throw them off."

"Is that so?" Junior asked. "Well then why has Sheriff Pendergrass been meeting with this guy who looks like a government agent for the last couple of days? I suppose that's just a coincidence?"

"I doubt it," John replied, "but we're used to having the FBI snooping around. That's why we gave them the guy in Raleigh. Sorta like giving the dog a bone."

"Well if Sheriff Pendergrass is anything like his reputation, he'll not go for just bones. That hungry ol' hound wants meat, and lots of it."

"Don't worry," John replied, "We've dealt with bad dogs before. If that old hound dog wants meat, then we'll give him meat, but we might season it a bit first."

"Just make sure you don't season it with gunpowder," Junior said. "That ol' bastard is mean enough already."

*****

"How does it feel to get your hands dirty again?" Mister Melvin asked Danny as they loaded tools on the back of Mister Melvin’s one ton truck.

"Feels great, Mister Melvin," Danny answered. "I'm just glad there's still work for us. I was afraid the whole town would dry up when Ripley's jobs closed down."

"Junior Ripley ain't the only work in town. I been pouring concrete over forty years. Thirty-eight years, I been in business for myself. I've seen a lot of Junior Ripleys come and go. Besides, people know they can count on me. That's why my phone keeps ringing."

"I hope this mess didn't cost you too much money," Danny said, "with the old mill being closed, and all the contractors not getting paid."

"I guess some of 'em got hit pretty hard, but like I said, I been dealing with these guys like Junior for a lot of years, and I learned long time ago to make 'em pays me every week. If they don't, I don't come back the next week. Is that Miss Regina comin' there?"

"Yeah," Danny said as he turned to see Regina drive up. "She said she was going to bring us some lunch today. Have you tried her cooking yet?"

"No, but I'm even hungry enough to eat Mrs. Melvin's cookin', and after forty-five years of being married to her, she still can't cook. Miss Regina can't be no worse."

"I won't tell Mrs. Melvin you said that."

"She knows it," Mr. Melvin laughed. "I married her for her cookin' in the bedroom, not in the kitchen. A man can learn to cook for himself if he has too."

Artist Shannon Suzanne
Everyday Art For Everyday Life