Survivors Will Be Shot Again Read Free

said.
    Rhodes took care of the paperwork on the revolver and put it in the evidence room, finishing up as Lawton came in from the cellblock.
    â€œI got our new customer all settled down and tucked in,” Lawton said. He noticed Rhodes. “Well, well, look who’s back from his so-called day off.”
    Lawton was Hack’s opposite in appearance, being clean-shaven and rounder, but he was the dispatcher’s full partner in trying to annoy Rhodes.
    â€œCaught yourself a gunslinging crook without even havin’ to pull your own pistol,” Lawton said. “Ain’t just anybody who could do that.”
    â€œHe don’t know the rest of the story,” Hack said.
    â€œYou didn’t tell him?”
    â€œNope.”
    â€œYou want me to tell him?”
    Rhodes tried not to smile. If there was anything that could start a fight between Hack and Lawton, it was Lawton trying to tell one of Hack’s stories before Hack had had the chance to draw it out for a while.
    â€œI was the one started tellin’ it,” Hack said. “I’ll be the one to finish it.”
    â€œI was just askin’,” Lawton said.
    â€œYou oughta know better than to have to ask.”
    â€œWell, it’s as much my story as it is yours anyway. I was right here when—”
    â€œYou better watch out,” Hack said.
    Lawton bristled. “You can’t tell me what to do.”
    â€œYes, I can. I got seniority.”
    Hack was right about that. Rhodes knew that the dispatcher had been hired at least a year before Lawton. Both men were past what some people considered retirement age, but they’d never shown any desire to leave their jobs, maybe because they enjoyed aggravating Rhodes whenever they could.
    â€œI’ll tell you what,” Rhodes said. “I’ll flip a coin and we can decide that way who gets to give me the bad news.”
    Hack looked at him. “I never said it was bad news.”
    â€œMe neither,” Lawton said.
    â€œIt’s never good news with you two,” Rhodes said.
    â€œThat ain’t so,” Hack told him. “Anyway, this ain’t bad news.”
    â€œDepends on how you look at it,” Lawton said. “Some might take it one way, some might take it another way.”
    Rhodes sighed. “Why don’t you just tell me?”
    â€œI was gettin’ to it,” Hack said. “You’re too grouchy, you know that? I think it’s ’cause you got the low T.”
    â€œDon’t start that again,” Rhodes said. “My testosterone’s just fine.”
    â€œSure is,” Lawton said. “I’ll vouch for that. Nobody with the low T’s gonna face down a crazy gunman with nothin’ but a loaf of bread.”
    â€œI’m glad somebody’s on my side,” Rhodes said. He hardened his tone. “Now tell me what’s going on.”
    â€œJust the usual,” Hack said. “Local hero sheriff is gonna be the star of the Internet again.”
    â€œJennifer Loam,” Rhodes said.
    Loam, who’d been a reporter for the local newspaper, had been a victim of downsizing. Since reporters weren’t exactly in high demand, she’d started her own news Web site, A Clear View of Clearview, and she had enough advertising to keep it going almost immediately. The way she managed that, in Rhodes’s opinion, was by sensationalizing local news, especially news that involved law enforcement. Any of Rhodes’s accomplishments, no matter how small, were inflated so as to become something on the order of Batman’s exploits in Gotham City.
    Hack and Lawton laughed, and Hack said, “I guess we don’t have to tell you, then. You bein’ an ace lawman and all, you figgered it out yourself.”
    â€œWhat was she doing here?” Rhodes said.
    â€œCame in to ask about the fella we arrested for exercisin’,” Hack said.
    Rhodes shook his head. Here we go