|
Booger The Story of a Cowboy and His Dog by Ricki Russell ISBN 1-891429-29-9 Fiction, 164-pages $12.95 |
|
Sometimes They Get Away With Murder by Virginia Craig ISBN 1-891429-47-7 Fiction, 205-pages $14.95 |
|
Egypt Night’s increasing wind did nothing to discourage the three men hiding in the shadows of the large, dimly lit museum. The three resembled shadows themselves, dressed in black with ski masks of matching color which showed only their eyes and mouths. The three shadowy figures crouched as they passed the large sign leading to the main entrance of the museum. The sign advertised the reason the men were here: “Rare Gem Exhibit. International Exhibit of the Pigott Diamond.” They rushed quietly up the steps of the museum. Pressing against the wall, they inched toward the door. One of the men raised his hand. The others stopped abruptly when they heard footsteps approaching the door. They stood mute as the guard inside became visible through the large glass door. Leaving the area the guard slowly proceeded on his rounds. The three men were manifest by their shadows. One was short, stocky, with a limp. The other two were slightly taller and slim. They quickly made their entrance to the building. All their plans had worked so far. Gaining entrance was much easier than first thought. Their visit earlier that day revealed an easy-to-disable alarm system on the front door. Quietly, quickly, they now stood inside the front door of the silent museum. Looking toward the end of the foyer they could see the room that housed the diamond. Gaining access to that room would be a different story. Uriel, the leader, pulled his mask up, keeping it on his head. He removed his black gloves, revealing surgical gloves. Nodding to the others, they followed suit. Uriel’s chiseled good looks as well as curly dark hair had been his kismet over the years. The other two were brothers. DeMon was an ugly sort, with very close set eyes. The uglier of the two was Simon. Short, overweight, eyes that bulged slightly, plus he walked with a slight limp. He never discussed what had caused the limp. They pressed against the wall of the main foyer. Moving in unison, they slid past a dimly lit room with ethereal lighting reflected on oil paintings by a newly discovered talent. They inched toward the small faintly lit room at the end of the foyer. The posted sign indicated: “Display of Elusive World Renowned Pigott Diamond.” Arriving at their destination, Uriel pointed into the room indicating motion sensors with the presence of crossed beams of laser light proving the diamond was not going to be easy prey. Simon groaned. The other two glared at him for breaking silence. He shrugged his shoulders and pointed at the lights. There was no way he would be able to maneuver that maze. Uriel and DeMon stared across the darkened room to the only other light. A small light in an exhibition case illuminated the pear shaped 49 carat Pigott Diamond. Simon looked down at the room’s sign again. “Pigott (Pigot by some) Diamond – 49 carats. Originally purchased from the London jewelry firm of Rundel & Bridge in 1818 by Ali Pasha of Janina, ruler of Albania, for the sum of $150,000.” He emitted a low whistle, which brought the brunt of DeMon’s fist to the top of his head. Simon stifled his reaction, glaring at his brother. “We’ll take care of this. You stand watch for the guard. When I get the diamond, I’ll pass it through to you and you put it in the pouch,” Uriel whispered to Simon. Simon nodded wiping perspiration as it popped up on his face and neck. He limped to the side of the door allowing the others access to the room. “He…” Simon was quickly stopped as Uriel roughly placed his hand over Simon’s mouth. Uriel’s other hand was at the back of Simon’s neck. The grip on his mouth was so tight his bulging eyes looked as if they would pop from the sockets when his eyes darted back and forth looking from Uriel to DeMon. Uriel nodded and whispered in Simon’s ear. “Shut up!” He stared into Simon’s bulging eyes. Simon nodded and Uriel slowly removed his hands. Simon lowered his voice to a mere whisper. “Demon was supposed to be sure of the security!” “It’s DeMon not Demon. You’ve done that since we were kids and you know I hate it! You only do that to piss me off!” DeMon whispered and glared. Simon merely smiled, satisfied with himself. He for once had the best of his overbearing brother, at least for now. He knew he would have to pay for his insolence in the future. Uriel was wondering why he had included these two in his plan. If he could have found anyone else for this job he wouldn’t have included them. They disgusted him, but they had started this together and would finish it together. The last three jobs were failures because of things that Simon or DeMon had done wrong. “Cut it out! We’re wasting too much time! Not another word from either of you until we’re out of here. After that you can kill each other for all I care.” He stifled screaming to a harsh whisper. Uriel and DeMon approached the doorway. Simon looked around apprehensively for the guard. He nodded to them. Uriel dropped to his knees, slithering through the lower set of beams successfully. DeMon followed. Uriel passed all the security beams successfully and rushed to the display stand. He looked back at DeMon who had just passed through the last of the beams, and past DeMon to the corridor where Simon kneeled with the pouch open to receive the diamond. Uriel and DeMon carefully raised the display case. Uriel slid his hand through the opening and wrapped his fingers around the diamond. Through his surgical glove he felt the coolness of the 49 carat gem fill the palm of his hand. No wonder diamonds are referred to as ice. He and DeMon smiled, savoring the moment. They put the glass case back in its original position. Rushing across the room they dropped to their bellies and began slithering their way back to the doorway where Simon waited. Half way there, Uriel’s face suddenly became distorted. DeMon noticed Uriel from the corner of his eye. Simon saw what was happening and stood to his feet outside the room, continuing to hold the pouch open, ready to receive the gem. Uriel quickly placed his hand solidly over his mouth and nose to stifle a sneeze but wasn’t quick enough. Uriel’s sneeze was loud. He felt the air as it was forced into his stomach then felt his foot as it involuntarily jumped into the light beam. The signal was deafening. Simon paced quickly across the entrance to the room. His pacing turned to running. He ran from the showroom toward the front door of the museum and back again. He figured there was no need to be quiet now. Pounding footsteps… running footsteps. Shouting. How many men were coming? He only guessed…two, maybe more. They were coming down the stairs at the far end of the museum and they were coming fast. DeMon and Uriel jumped to their feet. There was no need now to worry about the alarm. They ran through the remaining beams. They dashed through the door and ran toward the front entrance. At the entrance DeMon grabbed the doorknob and twisted. It was locked. They were stunned. Running guards were just around the corner by the showroom. “I locked it.” Simon shrugged his shoulders and he knew he was in more trouble than ever before. Uriel didn’t hesitate. He grabbed a chair. He hit the door once. The chair bounced back. The guards rounded the corner and saw them. “Halt,” one guard yelled. One of the others fired a gun. Uriel hit the glass a second blow with the chair at the same time as the guard’s bullet. This time the glass shattered. He threw the chair down the hallway toward the approaching guards. They were outside rushing into nearby heavy shrubbery when the guards arrived at the entrance. As the guards ran across the porch area, the thieves arrived at the black Mercedes they had hidden on their arrival. Sirens filled the night. The guards stood on the steps of the museum frantically looking into the darkness. One guard pointed to the right and two other guards followed his direction rushing out of sight. The guard standing on the steps was alerted when he heard a car start deep in the shrubbery to the left, but he saw nothing. He started towards the dense brush, but changed his mind as the police cars were coming through the distant gate. He wasn’t paid enough to get killed, that was the job of the police. He waited. Uriel drove the car skillfully with no headlights. The moon was a sliver and not much help for the guards, but a great aid to the three escaping thieves. Uriel eased the car behind a large oleander bush and waited patiently as three police cars rushed by on the twisting drive to the museum’s entrance. When the last of the three cars passed and rounded a slight curve in the drive, Uriel pulled quickly onto the drive and drove through the gate. He stopped outside the heavy iron gate. Simon and DeMon jumped out of the car taking with them the heavy gauge chain and two locks they had removed when first arriving at the museum. They pulled the two heavy iron gates together and joined the gate sections by wrapping the chain around the center of the joined sections. securing the chain with the two locks. They rushed back to the car. “They can try to crash through, but the gate’s too heavy. The damage done to the cars would make them unusable. They’ll have to cut the chain or get keys from the guards. That’ll take more time. The gates were open when they got here and they’ll think they still are. We’ll have enough time to make a successful getaway,” Uriel said as he drove into the night. ... |
|
Sometimes They Get Away With Murder by Virginia Craig ISBN 1-891429-47-7 Fiction, 205-pages $14.95 |
|
It was a hot July day and the sun was beating down in waves of heat like heavy blankets drifting down from the clear west Texas sky. Little dust devils were waltzing across the distant countryside, as if looking for a place to find relief from the Texas sun. A whisper of a dust rose from the trail that leads up Red Bluff. Every once in awhile a thunderhead would come sneaking into the sky to give a moment of relief from the heat before the sun would send it into scurrying in retreat. The plants and trees seemed to breathe a sigh of relief from the scorching heat as clouds passed over them. A lone buzzard circled lazily in the sky, as if he were certain of the fate of whatever was causing the dust cloud and only time kept them separated. This country could be ever so cruel to man or beast in the heat of a Texas summer in full swing. It could be miles between water holes or the windmills that the ranchers drilled to provide water for their cattle. As the man stepped out of the Longhorn saloon, he spotted the dust cloud off in the distance. Nothing to worry about, he told himself, for he had taken care of that lawman once and for all and no one else knew what had happened. Bob Logan that's my name. I guess it is as good a name as any other name, not that a name has much meaning in this country. Well it's like this, I was punching cows for a half starved outfit through the winter and come spring I found out that the banker that was backing my boss decided that the other half was gone as well. This left me out of work with a saddle, a little red roan mule, and a big black and tan dog. Well, a man has got to eat and the only work I could find was either tending bar or becoming a deputy sheriff for ole Mike. The way I look at things is if you can't do it in a saddle or with a gun it don't need doing. This outlook narrowed down my choices to pinning on that tin star. Mike Parker had been sheriff for longer than most people could remember and was quite a man in his day. Ole Mike came into town just before sundown and rode up to where I was working on one of my latest rope tricks. Mike cleared his throat to get my attention and said " Bob, someone has been drifting some cattle off the Bar Seven and I'm going to ride out that way at first light to have me a look see for myself. A little birdie told me it might be a gent by the name of John Chandles and that he was drifting them to a little canyon northwest of the Bar Seven till he got a herd together. If all goes like I got it figured I'll be back about dark or so tomorrow. Just remember not to wear out all of those pretty young girls at the dance so there is some left for the old man." I assured Mike of the safety of the town and the danger of the young ladies with him gone, but there should be at least one dance left in them when he got back. The dance had been in full swing for about and hour when it started one of those gentle Texas showers, you know the kind that falls about an inch a minute till six inches falls then stops the same way it started. Alex Murphy came in squalling like a turpentined cat "it's Mike's horse out there and Mike ain't on him Bob." Even in the downpour you could still see the blood stains on the saddle. I knew there was nothing I could do till morning, so I stabled Mike's horse and prepared for the day to come with grim anticipation. Mike wasn't no spring chicken and at best he was likely to be busted up and that ain't good for an older feller. I have known Mike for most of my life and he was always helping someone out, like giving an out of work puncher like me a job to get him through a hard spell. If Mike was down, it wouldn't be good out in that storm, that blew through and with the chill of a summer night without protection. That little shower did put a chill in the summer air, even though by afternoon the temperature would be around the century mark. Desert country has a way of going from one extreme to another, without much of a warning. Ida Red stood hipshot in the corner of the lot, as the gate creaked, she took one look and cocked her ear in that special way she had of letting you know things could get very interesting in the first part of the morning. I told that little red roan outlaw if she took a notion to buck this morning she wouldn't see grain again until she could figure out how to grow it herself. Ida Red has a way of turning a deaf ear to a man, when it doesn't seem important to her at the time, which she once again did to me. I got saddled up and my gear loaded and led her out to the muddy street thinking about what a mess I would be if she managed to unload me. I cheeked her bridle and stepped on quite gingerly and she just stood there. Well, you expect the worst and sometimes it don't happen. Son of a ...............gun, she caught me by surprise and with a small explosion she broke right half into. We headed right down the middle of the street slinging mud thirty feet in every direction. After about eight or ten good licks she stopped dead in her tracks, took a deep sigh, looked around to check for an audience, and slowly began to walk off. Its broncs like her that keeps life so interesting and put those gray hairs on young men. "Booger, come on Booger let's go boy." That's right, my dog's name is Booger and he deserves it as well. You see ever time I seemed to get things going just about right he would booger them up, thus he got his name while still just a pup. Since that time he has turned into the best dern partner a man could ask for. With him it doesn't matter if it's man or beast, you send him after something and he gets the job done one way or the other. Booger came trotting out from behind the livery. "If you hadn't showed up pretty quick I'd have left you behind you no account cur." Well, he's not exactly a cur since his parents were imported all the way from Germany by way of New York State. Some city police officer sent for them from his kin across the ocean. They came from some soldiers in the Roman army that went off and left them in Germany when them folks got tired of being told what to do. You know sort of like when we got a belly full of them English gents trying to boss us around. ... |
|
Booger The Story of a Cowboy and His Dog by Ricki Russell ISBN 1-891429-29-9 Fiction, 164-pages $12.95 |
