The Devil's Highway by Timothy C. Phillips Page A

backed away crab style before fumbling to his feet. He went into a karate stance and came at me again, but I stepped to the side and brought a fist down on his wounded shoulder. He howled with pain and backed away.
    “Had enough of this kaffir , Kiker?” I asked him.  
    He rubbed his face and started walking quickly away. “This isn’t over!” he shouted over his shoulder.  
    “Come on back, then! I’m just warming up!” I called after him, taunting him. I’d taken him to school, this time. I knew next time I saw him, Kiker would bring more than a knife.
    I watched him until he was out of sight and walked on to the Fermosa Hotel, where I had a room. As I rounded the last block, I saw two patrol cars and a couple of ambulances outside the main entrance. Two men were being brought out on stretchers.
    Garrett and Hughes were standing out front.
    “What happened?” I asked Garrett.
    “Hello, Roland. Strange situation here; there was a fight in the hotel bar. Not that a fight in a bar is anything new, but the bartender says that it was Redemption Army members that started it all. I have two men busted up pretty bad. Just young guys, twenty one, twenty two. It’s been months since any of Cushman’s people stuck their heads in a bar here in Delgado. Like I told you, they have their own watering hole on the compound. Tonight, four of them came in here, and basically jumped on two farm boys who were having a beer. They trashed the place, then they took off.”
    “My guess is that was meant to be a diversion.”
    “Diversion? From what?”  
    “Well, I’m staying here, and I just had a little dance with Cushman’s buddy, Kiker. I think maybe this was either to make sure you guys didn’t come to my aid, or they were here to tip Kiker off if somehow I bypassed him.”
    Garrett looked me up and down. “That Kiker strikes me as a tough customer. Are you all right?”
      “I’m fine. I think I might have dislocated his shoulder, though. I know I tried.”
    Garrett looked a little surprised, then he chuckled. “You amaze me, Longville. Too bad you didn’t break his arm. Did he have a message?”
    “In between racial slurs, I gathered that he was trying to get me to forget about Brad Caldwell, and the Redemption Army. I’m just not so easy to strong arm.”
      “Well, well. One question for you, then: Do you still think you’re going back out there tomorrow and get them to hand Brad Caldwell over?”
    “I guess not,” I admitted.
    “The ball’s in our court, now, that’s for sure.” Garrett said, suddenly pensive. “This is what it was like before, these people coming into town and jumping on our people, then dusting back out to their screwy compound, and covering for each other. They break the rules, and the rules protect them.”
    “Then it looks like time for us to break the rules, too.”
    “Which means what?” Deputy Hughes asked.
    I smiled at him. “Go out there, break in, and take Brad out.”
    Garrett looked at me like I might have just suggested that we go hunting rattlesnakes with our bare hands. “Pardon me for sounding negative, Roland, but just how do you plan to do that?”
    I smiled at him, like Big-Hearted Al must have smiled when he sold Brad that used Toyota. “That part’s easy. With your help, Sheriff.”
    “Hell yeah!” Hughes smacked a palm with his fist, while Garrett groaned theatrically, and smirked. “I had a feeling you were going to say that, Longville.”
    “I got the idea just now that you’d find the notion appealing.”
    “Well, that I might, but it also could cost me my job, that is, if Mayor Ferguson and the City Council thought enough of Cushman and his crew to kick up a fuss. But after tonight, they might just go out there with you. I’ve had it with these Redemption Army people causing trouble in Delgado. I think it’s about time somebody spoiled Cushman’s party.”  
    Garrett paused, and gave me a mysterious look, then a sly smile. “But that