Livejournal appears to be down. So without further ado: chapter 18 of "The Chesterfield Fortune"
okay here is the LINK NOW:
http://louisev.livejournal.com/221550.html18.
The phone rang as Colson was arranging chicken pieces on a plate to heat up in the Radarrange. “Goddammit what is it now?” he muttered, and as he picked up the receiver he smiled to himself – beginnin ta act like em, swearing before he picks up the phone. “Grey.”
“Where is Cantrell?”
“Only one man in Tourmaline sounds like a starched shirt, Jeeves. He’s sick in bed, what a you want?”
“I need to talk to Cantrell.”
“Ya can’t, ya got ta talk ta me so what a ya want?”
“This involves his bar, I can hardly discuss it with you, Colson, now be reasonable.”
“An you can’t hardly discuss nothin with em because he got a shot an he is down for the count so leave em alone.”
“He was fine this morning,” Chas argued.
“He ain’t fine now an no ya can’t talk to em, if ya got ta talk ta somebody then go down the Sheriff’s department an raise hell there, this ain’t the Sheriff’s department.”
“That won’t do. And this is an urgent situation regarding his bar, but if you insist... “ he took a breath, angry with Colson for getting in his way, but regrouped. “You recall an altercation between Cantrell’s man – Dupree – and his lover, and a lumberman who came in and caused a disturbance in November sometime, before the Constable was... “
“Married, we was married, yeah I remember, what is this about?”
“That man, that Keynes. He has taken Lancelot, I am convinced of it.”
“How do you know? He ain’t the only horny straight man in Tourmaline ya know,” Colson said acidly.
“Yes, how well I know. You’re here now too.”
“Fuck off Jeeves, an stay out a the bar an stop phonin here till Ellery is better or I ain’t gonna pick up.”
“Well aren’t you feisty, no wonder he is lying in bed moaning, you must have thrown his back out with your passion.”
“Yeah somethin like that,” Colson said, then banged the phone down. “Goddamn sumbitch.” He looked up and Ellery stood swaying in the doorway.
“What the hell was that?” he slurred, rubbing his eyes.
“You should be in bed,” Colson objected, avoiding the question.
“I was in bed, got up ta pee an hear you swearin on the phone. Now who was it on the phone an gimme some a that chicken before I throw up from the shot.” He raised a trembling hand to point at the plate in the Radarrange.
“You should go back ta –“
“Colson goddammit don’t treat me like a fuckin cripple, this is the worst rash a crime we had in three or four years an I end up with A.D.A. stick-up-her-ass drivin me home like I got suspended from school,” he said, his diction clearing up rapidly.
“You are a cripple!” he objected. “Ya just got shot up an ya should –“
“Who was that on the phone?” Ellery staggered slightly as he made his way to the Radarrange and reached in for Edna’s fried chicken, now steaming hot once more. “Ow – sumbitch is hot.”
“News flash for ya darlin,” Colson said, taking his arm by the elbow and taking the plate from him with little resistance. “Newfangled radar ovens cook things hot too. Now sit the fuck down before ya fall down an break yer hip an let yer man serve ya.”
Ellery didn’t fight the restraining hand, instead giving him a coy smile. “Somebody lookin fer me an you don’t want em to see me in my reduced circumstances. Lemme tell ya, that A.D.A. is hot for anythin on two legs.”
“Jeeves was lookin for ya, he says that lumber guy has got Lance. I don’t know why he did or why he thought it was up ta you with you sick an all....”
“Fuck me sideways,” Ellery groaned, then brightened, straightening himself in his chair and folding a napkin across his lap daintily, as if narcosis had in some way reminded him of his table manners from his childhood, then looked up at Colson who was filling his plate.
“This ain’t gonna make you sick or nothin with them drugs?”
“No, I’m already sick from them drugs an should a eaten about two hours ago, you know how I get.”
“Yeah – first ya want fuckin then ya want food, then ya want fuckin an then ya want food.”
“At least I got my priorities straight,” Ellery defended, mildly piqued.
“Ya grabbed me right in front a that D.A. girl, now I can’t even look her in the eye again. You promised you weren’t ever gonna do that, Ellery,” Colson said.
“It’s my natural desire uninhibited by higher brain functions, sweetheart, I couldn’t help myself. Besides you were so commandin an angry it got me all hot.” He tore the wing off one of the pieces of chicken and the picked up a buttered biscuit.
“Well that Samuelson –“ he tried again.
“What did Jeeves want?” Ellery asked, interrupting him.
“Are you gonna let me get a fuckin word in edgeways?”
“My natural inhibition about not interruptin people uninhibited too sweetheart, sorry about that, go ahead, then I got ta ask the important shit.”
Colson bridled, angry and trying to hide it. Got to remember he’s babblin an don’t know how much of an asshole he is bein right now. “Never mind – he said that lumber guy has got Lance.”
Ellery blinked at him. “You said that already sweetheart.”
“Didn’t think you heard me,” Colson buttered his biscuit hard enough to make it crumble in his fingers. “Goddamnit.”
“I heard every word ya said, ya want me ta repeat it? What were you talkin about with em?”
“He said,” Colson shoved bits of biscuit in his mouth, loathe to waste it, equally loathe to let it sit on his plate unmolested, “He said I threw out yer back fuckin ya or somethin,”
Ellery grinned. “Two points for creatively annoyin my partner while I’m down for the count. “I guess he wants ta make sure he gets a call back, if he’s gonna irritate you to the point a rage.”
“Guess so.”
“That’s all it is Colson, relax. But it sounds like the man has found a conscience under all a them layers a wool an stuff an nonsense.”
“He really gets under my skin,” Colson conceded.
“He hit you with all his insultin ‘I’m bettern you’ ways, a course he gets under yer skin.”
“An somethin else gets under my skin too while I’m at confessin,” Colson said, giving Ellery a suddenly sheepish glance.
“Oh whassat? Esteban left his cup on the table?”
“No. That woman.”
“ADA stick-up-er ass?”
“Yeah. She was – she was lookin at ya.”
“Women look, sweetheart, it’s my superior genes, with a G.”
“Well she sure did. She was... she was starin. Then when you went ta bed she was starin at me an I felt – it made me see red, I won’t lie.”
“Ohh, does that mean as soon as that spasm stops in my back I’m gonna get handcuffed to the bed an teased till I’m a puddle a Chief Deputy jelly? I sure as hell hope so.”
“Ellery now cut that out!” Colson stood up. “This is serious!”
Ellery leaned forward cautiously, his eyes blazing with narcotic euphoria. “I am serious as death, sweetheart. There is only one thing on my mind besides the taste a this biscuit, an that is the taste a yer cock.”
“I can’t. Yer sick.”
“I ain’t in no pain right now sweetheart, come on now.”
Colson slammed a hand on the counter. “Goddammit, you ain’t helpin!”
“No, I ain’t. Now sit down an finish eatin an stop bein such a momma.”
Topic: Was: Laramie Tales: New Working Title: Tales of Greenlea County (ARCHIVE) (Read 540922 times)