The Price of Beauty in Strawberry Land by Gerald W. Darnell Read Free Book Online Page A

days – you know how to reach me there – I’ll be at Chiefs.”
    “Okay – I’ll call if I find anything you need to know.   Otherwise, let me hear from you when you get back in town.   Now, here’s the check.   Thanks for lunch,” he said getting up to leave.
    He was finished and I still hadn’t even ordered!
    “Larry, one other thing.   That fellow named Dollar you sent to the pen for running an auto theft ring – didn’t he make parole and relocate to Jackson?”
    “Alfred E. Dollar.   Can’t ever forget that name.   He had a big operation – stealing cars, changing vin numbers, selling used cars for new, turning back mileage – this guy was a real piece of work.   Yes, he made parole and relocated to Jackson, but I’ve not heard anything from or about him.   Why?”
    “Just curious.   I’m working on a case for one of Jack’s clients – in Milan, Tennessee.   Embezzlement at a car dealership, but it’s got a bad smell to it.   If our friend Alfred E. Dollar is in the area, he might have some information to share.”
    “Carson, I suggest you be careful with this guy.   His name doesn’t fit his personality.   He’s not a nice person and I would be very surprised if he voluntary shared any information with you.   And you can also bet that whoever he is currently running with, isn’t of much better character.   Just be cautious.”
    “Will do.   I’ll stay in touch,” I offered as Larry walked away.
    I ordered a Sandy’s hamburger to go and pointed the Ford east on Hwy. 70/79.   At Brownsville I stayed on Hwy. 70 and drove toward Jackson, rather than Humboldt.
    Bemis is a section of Jackson’s south side.   If you were looking for trouble, Bemis would a good place to look.   I headed for Bemis.
    I figured if I had any chance of finding Alfred E. Dollar, Bemis was be my best place to start. Bars and used car lots lined both sides of Hwy. 45 South, and after buying a few beers at ‘Murphy’s’ – I found out what I wanted to know – Alfred E. Dollar was in the area and was a regular.   According to the bartender, my best bet for finding Alfred this time of day would be the Bemis Pool Room.   That was my next stop.
    My problem was that I didn’t know what Alfred E. Dollar looked like – so I really wouldn’t know him if I saw him.   This made my questions more difficult and dangerous, as I was about to find out.
    I sat on a stool at the pool room bar for 30 minutes and never got the feeling that Alfred E. Dollar was in the room – that based upon the conversations going on around the bar, pool tables and domino games.   Expecting the worst, I asked the biggest and ugliest fellow in the poolroom if he knew where I could find Alfred E. Dollar.
    He walked over and blew his beer breath in my face as he asked, “Just who wants to know?”
    “Me. I want to know. I am the one who asked.   What are you confused about?” He visibly did not appreciate my words or tone.
    “Mister, are you drunk or just as stupid as you look,” he said leaning over and putting his face only inches from mine. “Would you like for me to break your nose before or after I throw you out?”
    “Those are a lot of questions – just let me answer them this way,” I said backing away from his stinking breath. “I don’t know Alfred E. Dollar by sight.   But what I do know is that I have two loaded car haulers parked between here and Bolivar, and I need a buyer.   I was given the name Alfred E. Dollar and also given the understanding that he might have an interest.   That’s why I am asking where I could find Alfred E. Dollar.   Does that answer any of your questions?”
    “Who’s ‘giving’ all this information?   Are you a cop?” His face was once again getting closer to mine – I’m sitting and he’s standing.
    “How come you keep answering my questions with more questions?   Let’s start over.   Do you know where I can find Alfred E. Dollar?”
    “No.”
    “Thank you