Linda Warren

Texas Rebels: Elias


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Bob. Tammy Jo was Bob’s only child and she and Elias had been an item for a couple of years, seeing each other when she’d come home from Austin. Bob had never found out. Tammy Jo had wanted to get married and Elias hadn’t, so their fun weekends had stopped. Part of him would miss Tammy Jo and the good times they’d had. But deep down he had known he wasn’t the man for her. He wasn’t sure if he was the man for any woman. Like he’d told Bob, he enjoyed his freedom and didn’t want to be tied down.

      “She’s marrying an accountant and he has a good job in Austin. I hope they start having babies soon. My wife and I can’t wait for a grandchild.”

      “Congratulations, Bob. You deserve a house full of grandkids.”

      The biker couple got up and walked toward the door. The blonde looked back and smiled at Elias.

      “That could get you killed,” Bob remarked.

      “Ah, I can take him.”

      “In your dreams.”

      The door opened again and Wyatt Carson, the sheriff, walked in. Wyatt came straight to Elias. “Thought I might find you here.”

      It wasn’t a good thing when the sheriff came looking for you. “What’s up?”

      “I have a stack of parking tickets on my desk that need to be paid as soon as possible.”

      “Wyatt.” Elias sighed. “You’re not going to bring that up again.”

      The sheriff tipped back his hat. “It’s against the law to park in the fire zone at the courthouse. Yet you continue to do so despite my warnings and Stuart’s.”

      “When was the last time you had a fire at the courthouse?”

      “None that I can recall.”

      “See? I’m not endangering anyone. The auto-parts store is right across the street and there’s never any parking. I park to the side and run to the store. It takes ten minutes, tops. But Stuart always manages to ticket my truck. Next time I see him I’m gonna put a knot on his head.”

      “Then I’d have to arrest you.”

      “Come on, Wyatt, what do you want from me?”

      “I want you to pay the tickets, but I know you’re stubborn and you’re not going to do that. So I’ve got a better solution.”

      “And what would that be?”

      “I need someone to do undercover work.”

      Elias laughed out loud and slapped the bar with his hand. “I’m not a cop and I don’t want to be one. That’s your job.”

      “Okay, Elias, I’m going to give you a choice. Jail or undercover work. Teenage boys are stealing beer around Horseshoe. They’ve hit the grocery store, the convenience store and this place.”

      Elias looked at Bob. “You didn’t mention that.”

      Bob shrugged. “Wyatt said not to tell anyone because he wants to catch ’em.”

      “Have you checked out the Kuntz boys, Wyatt?” If anything was stolen in Horseshoe, Freddie, his brother Scooter and cousin Leonard were always at the top of the list. They lived in a run-down trailer on the outskirts of town. Their mother worked nights in a bar and the boys were left to fend for themselves. Elias had given them rides. Sometimes late at night.

      “It’s not them. The school called CPS and they’re checking into their home situation. But the mother always pulls a rabbit out of her hat at the last minute. The sister has now moved in and she’s supposed to be there for the boys at night. CPS has backed off, but I’m keeping a close eye on the boys. I was talking to them when I got the call about the convenience store.”

      Elias sighed. “I’m almost afraid to ask, but what do you want me to do?”

      “Keep an eye out while you’re in here.”

      “Come on, Wyatt, I’m not ratting out kids.”

      “They’re stealing. And that’s against the law and I’ve sworn to uphold the law.”

      “You’re a stickler for right, aren’t you?”

      Wyatt nodded. “Yes, I am. What’s your answer? Jail or undercover work?”

      Elias knew he didn’t have much choice, but he would hold out to the last minute. “Exactly what do you want me to do?”

      “I want you to watch the door. One of the boys is coming through the front and slipping past the bar to the back. He then opens the back door and lets the other two in and they take the beer and run. You have to stay sober and alert me if you see someone going into the back room. That’s it. I’ll take it from there. All you have to do is call if you see someone.”

      “I don’t know.” He hated to turn on kids. He’d once been a wild teenager and beer had always been a temptation.

      “Then I’ll have to arrest you. You can sit out your time and do community service. I believe the senior citizen center needs mopping and cleaning. That would be a good job for you.”

      “Wyatt, it’s hay season on the ranch and—”

      “I’ll sweeten the deal. When you have to go to the auto-parts store, you can park in the sheriff’s area.” He held up a finger. “But just ten minutes, and I’ll alert Stuart not to ticket you.”

      Now there was a deal. He held out his hand. “Deal.”

      Wyatt shook his hand. “Stay alert tonight and tomorrow. It’s usually Saturday night when they hit. Thanks.”

      “Yeah, right.” Elias grimaced.

      “Look at it this way,” Bob said. “You’ll be sitting down here instead of in a jail cell.”

      Elias spent the evening watching the door and it was as much fun as watching grass grow. The night was slow and nothing was happening so at 10:30 p.m. he went home. He had a full day tomorrow and he needed some sleep. Getting into his truck, he felt a pang of...loneliness. It couldn’t be. He was never lonely, but sometimes lonely crept into his soul without warning.

      AT SIX O’CLOCK the next evening, Elias came through the back door dirty and tired, hay stinging him around his collar and down the back of his shirt. He needed a shower and a beer. Grabbing one out of the refrigerator, he took a moment to pop the top.

      “Elias?” Grandpa called.

      He lived with his grandpa and was the official caretaker of the old man who aggravated him more than anyone. Quincy was Grandpa’s favorite and he’d usually done the caregiving until he got married. After that, somehow the responsibility for Grandpa fell on Elias’s shoulders. He wasn’t the nurturing kind, but he and Grandpa managed to get along.

      He walked into the living room. Grandpa sat in his chair with his dog, Mutt, on his lap. Nearing eighty, Grandpa had snow-white hair and a booming voice known to stop his grandsons in their tracks.

      “What’s up?”

      Grandpa handed him the remote control. “Get the Western channel. I can’t find it.”

      Elias took a deep breath. “I wrote it down—” he pointed to the pad on the end table by Grandpa “—right there.”

      “Ah, if you don’t want to help me then don’t.” Grandpa tended to be grouchy at times and he liked being pampered.

      Elias took the control and flipped it to the Western channel. “Satisfied?”

      “Thank you.”

      Elias shook his head. One little thing made his grandpa happy. He headed for the bathroom. “Are you going to Quincy’s for supper?” he asked over his shoulder. Quincy still helped with Grandpa, as did his other brothers.

      “Yes, I’m waiting on him. He’s gonna pick me up so I don’t have to drive