The Paladin Read Free

there?" she said, as she heard Harry swearing at the top of her lungs. "This is the last straw! Harry Smith is through! I won't stand for her shenanigans any longer!"
    As Norma's outstretched hand was mere inches from the doorknob, the racket suddenly ceased. Ripping open the door to the classroom, she let out a surprised yelp as she came face to face with a smiling Harry Smith.
    "Miss Smith, I demand to know what is going on here! Your language was inexcusable! Thank God no parents were present to hear such a foul tirade; it would have ruined my reputation!"
    Looking past the young woman, Norma saw that the room was spotlessly clean and well ordered. Not a single block, crayon, or book was out of place.
    "Principal Anders," said Harry, extending a copy of her neatly printed and signed resignation. "I hereby turn in my notice, effective immediately. I am afraid that the Applewood Academy isn't up to my standards. Ta ta, Norma."
    Harry pushed past the stunned principal.
    "Good riddance," said Norma. "Go back to the trailer park you came from, white trash!"
    Harry paused and turned back to the domineering, sadistic woman.
    "Now that wasn't a very nice thing to say, now was it, Norma? By the way, I think you have a wrinkle in your panty hose. My bad, you aren’t wearing hose…or well…" Harry finished with a laugh.
    Looking down, Principal Anders gasped in horror. Her clothes were simply gone. Shocked at her surprise nudity, Norma screamed and ran for her office.
    As "Harry" turned and walked away, Larry thought, Damn, I'm good.

 
     
    1
     
    Humming a happy tune, Elsa Philips peered into the small compact and carefully touched up her lipstick and makeup.
    Elsa wrote, produced, and hosted her own television show called Friends and Neighbors, a program that highlighted the local people and places of East Tennessee. The twenty-two minute program dominated its Monday morning 3 AM time slot.
    Today's interview was a bit different from the normal old-geezer-reminiscing-about-the-good-old-days kind of spot she normally produced. Today, Elsa had an exclusive one-on-one with a local legend: The Angel of Bryson City himself, John Beck.
    Too much beauty for mortal man to bear, she thought as she put away her mirror. Her smile vanished as she watched her cameraman fumble setting up his tripod.
    The tall, overweight man with the graying goatee cursed the stubborn tripod at the top of his lungs, using epithets that made Elsa blush.
    Elsa rummaged through her overstuffed shoulder bag. "The station manager hates me,"she mumbled. "Would it have killed him to send Bobby or Phil to help me? Oh no, they are too busy covering real news, so I get stuck with Ray. I don't care if he is the station manager's nephew, if Ray screws this up, he's dead!"
    Ray Goodman looked up from his work and felt envy creep over him as he looked around the expensively appointed private library.
    Three walls of the two-story room were filled to capacity with thousands of volumes, most of which were rare first editions. A graceful black iron spiral staircase in the far corner gave access to a narrow upper walkway that encircled the room and the second floor shelves. To his right was an elegant fireplace. Over the carved mahogany mantle hung a portrait of a stunningly beautiful woman dressed in white with upswept dark hair and violet eyes.
    Situated near a set of French doors that opened to a breathtaking view of the distant Smoky Mountains sat a massive mahogany desk flanked by a matching cabinet humidor.
    "Some people know how to live," he said, stroking his beard. "I didn't know anyone in Bryson City could afford a setup like this. Sure beats the hell out of my trailer."
    "An outhouse beats the hell out of your trailer," said Elsa. "But you're right; this is very nice."
    "Elsa, do you see the humidor? Bet cash money those cigars alone are worth thousands. Old man Beck must be rolling in the dough. No wonder he can afford to be so generous."
    "I just hope this