Duncan Delaney and the Cadillac of Doom by A. L. Haskett Read Free Book Online Page B

think about that one.”
    Benjamin tied his shoelaces and put on his belt. Masterson gave him the fifty dollars from the pool.
    “Your guess was closest,” he explained.
    “Thanks, Billy. You boys treated me okay this time.”
    “I’ve talked to the judge,” Conley said. “He agreed to apply time served against your previous sentence and suspended the remainder. Your weekends are forthwith free.”
    “Thanks, Mr. Conley.”
    “You come see us again soon,” Masterson said.
    “Not me. I’ve mended my ways.”
    Conley laughed. “Sure, Ben. See you at church next Sunday.”
       
    Tiffy’s white convertible Volkswagen Rabbit was parked in front of the Cheyenne Club when Benjamin drove up. Mr. Bradshaw had given her the car upon the successful completion of her cosmetology course work at the community college. She never aspired to or attained a position in the industry. She just had a thirst for knowledge. An I Brake for Cowboys decal adorned her rear bumper. Benjamin parked behind the Rabbit, wondering if she had the same logo tattooed on her ass.
    It was early and the club was not crowded. Benjamin sat at the bar, took off his hat, and ordered a beer. He drank it without pause. He had been dry near a week and the beer quenched a burning within. He ordered another and looked to the dance floor. Tiffy danced there with a young cowboy. They both wore hats. Benjamin pondered why half the population of Wyoming found it imperative to wear their hats indoors.
    Savages, he thought.
    Tiffy wore a short denim skirt, white leather boots, and a white long sleeved blouse with a bolo tie. A flimsy bra beneath the blouse barely restrained her breasts. Benjamin pictured her naked. He felt no guilt. Countless men and boys and a proportionate number of women had envisioned Tiffy naked in the course of her young life. Benjamin did not see why he should be the first to forsake that pleasure. The young man she danced with was apparently of the same perspective, as he furtively glanced to ascertain which way her chest swayed. Tiffy left him on the dance floor when the music stopped. She sat at the bar beside Benjamin.
    “How did you get out?”
    “Hasn’t been a jail built yet that can hold Benjamin Lonetree.”
    “Escaped, did you?”
    “Three men died in the purchase of my liberty.”
    “Uh huh. Buy me a beer?”
    Benjamin called for another round. Tiffy uncrossed and crossed her legs again. Her skirt’s brevity impressed the hell out of him.
    “I suppose you’ll tell Duncan you saw me here.”
    “That was not my intent.”
    “Well, it doesn’t matter. I’d tell him myself if I knew where he was. I’d tell him it don’t mean nothing.”
    “What do you care? You dumped and forsook him.”
    “Is that what he said?” Tiffy touched his arm. “This is all a terrible mistake. I miss him so.”
    Benjamin glanced at the young cowboy who in turn eyed him with ill disguised envy. “I could tell.”
    “Oh, don’t mind him.” She moved closer. “We were just dancing.” Benjamin smelled her jasmine perfume. “You know where Duncan is, don’t you?”
    Benjamin had stopped by the post office on the way to the Cheyenne Club. Amongst the bills and the advertisements in his box was a card from Duncan with his new address. Benjamin had put the card in his pocket and the remaining mail in the trash.
    “I know.”
    “You’ll tell me, won’t you?” She touched his knee. “I’d be so grateful.”
    Benjamin sighed. He set his beer down. It would be rude to ignore an invitation that plain. He kissed her. She expanded her mouth to receive him and he indulged her with his tongue. After a moment she pushed him away and smirked.
    “Well, now, Benjamin! Whatever did you do that for?”
    “To see if I could.”
    “You always could have. You just never noticed.”
    Tiffy grasped his ears and kissed him again. She guided his hand to her breast. Benjamin had often laid in bed and mused what he would do to or with or for her if the