Page 129 of Highball Rush
I waited while his eyes crossed, and he held the bar like he couldn’t stay upright. The rush seemed to pass, and he shook his head.
“Goddamn, this shit is strong.”
I ground my teeth together, my nostrils flaring. Took a breath before I trusted myself to speak.
“Must be tough working for a guy like that,” I said. “He has you do his dirty work and you gotta worry about whether he’ll get rid of you someday?”
“I’m not too concerned. I have so much dirt on this guy, I could bury him under a mountain of it. See, I’m not stupid. I have insurance.”
“What sort of insurance?”
“Recordings. Log books. I keep track of everything.”
After three shots, I wasn’t worried about whether he recognized me. He’d talk no matter what. He wouldn’t be able to help himself.
Turning on my stool, I looked him straight in the eyes. “Where do you keep all that insurance?”
He regarded me through droopy eyelids, his jaw going slack. “Wait. I know you. You’re that guy. The one with the photo of her.”
“Yep. But where’s the insurance? You keep it locked up somewhere?”
He laughed again, his shoulder shaking with a drunken giggle. “It’s all at home. I have a file cabinet with a lock.”
“Good place for it.” I glanced at Nicolette. “You been getting all this?”
She smiled and pulled my cell phone from beneath the bar. Set it on top. “Every incriminating word.”
Lee gaped at the phone, his mouth hanging open. Then he swiveled his head to look at me. “What’s goin’ on?”
“Just for shits and giggles, what’s your boss’s name?” I’d gotten enough out of him, but I wanted to see if I could get him to say it.
He closed his mouth, narrowing his eyes at me, like the gears in his drunken brain were slowly turning. “His name? You’re recording me, aren’t you?”
“Yup. And West Virginia is a one-party state. I can legally record you without your knowledge. But really, who do you work for? You know you want to tell me.”
He hiccupped and laughed at the same time. “Judge Henry Kendall. He’s the boss man. Did I tell you he’s a shady fucker? Knows how to keep his hands clean, though.”
“I imagine he does.” I grabbed the phone and tapped the screen to stop recording and make sure it saved. Then I held it up. “You’re too shitfaced to understand what just happened. But when you wake up in a jail cell in the morning, I want you to remember two things. One, you told us everything we need to know to put that piece of shit judge away for good. And two, if you slept with Misty Lynn Prosser, I suggest you get yourself tested for just about everything under the sun.”
Nicolette held up another cell phone. “Used both, so there’s a backup.”
“Thanks, Nicolette,” I said. “I owe you big for this.”
“Just doing my part.”
I got up and nudged the swaying Lee. “Where’s the judge now?”
He burped. “Not sure. He was in Washington. Congressional hearing soon.”
“Is he coming out here? When you told him Misty Lynn said Callie Kendall is in Bootleg, did he say he was coming?”
“Don’t know. He wasn’t happy about it, I can tell you that. Did I tell you he kept me out of prison? Dirty fucker, but he knows how to keep his hands clean. That’s my job.”
“Fuck,” I muttered. “Hey Bow, can y’all get this guy out of here? Take my phone with you and give it to the sheriff.”
George came up behind Bowie and cracked his knuckles. They wouldn’t have any trouble lifting him into someone’s car.
“We got it,” Bowie said. “Where you going?”
