Divine Justice (Camel Club 4)

“Why, you gonna miss me if I leave again? Best watch out. People might think you got a weird-ass thing for me, dude.”

Some of the men at the other tables laughed at this. Lonnie’s hands balled to fists, but Danny gripped his bony shoulder. “Just joking around, man. Ain’t made up my mind whether I’m going or not. Soon as I do you’ll be one of the first I tell. Now, I got to go. While I’m standing here flapping my jaw with you, I could be making millions of bucks out there in the big city of Divine.”

He skirted around Lonnie, who suddenly became aware that all eyes were now on him. As the door slammed shut behind Danny, Lonnie quickly sat back down and with a defiant look shot a wad of chew into an old coffee can sitting on the floor.

Behind the bar, Stone set down a load of boxes. He had heard most of this exchange. Divine was turning out to be quite a peculiar town.

Get the cash and hit the road. Before twitchy trigger finger Tyree finds out I’m the towelhead.

CHAPTER 16

SIX HOURS LATER Stone had finished his work and Abby pronounced herself satisfied with what he’d done.

“You’ve got a lot of energy,” she said. “And you don’t waste time. I like that in a person.” She smiled and for the first time Stone registered on how lovely she actually was.

“What now?”

“There’re some more chores to be done at my house. All outside work. You interested? It’s a dirty job.”

“Just tell me how to get there. And what you want done.”

He grabbed his duffel bag and a few minutes later left the restaurant. For the first time Stone got a good look at Divine in daylight. It surprised him.

Right out of Andy Griffith’s Mayberry but with a Hollywood veneer, something the Disney people might have put together, he concluded. The storefronts were all freshly painted and the wood new-looking; the windows were clean, the brick sidewalks smooth and swept, the roads recently laid with black asphalt. Folks walked past waving at each other, friendly “hellos” floated all around him, though none were directed at Stone, apparently the only stranger here.

He passed what looked to be a new brick building that was the town’s library. He peered through the glass doors and saw shelves of books and rows of shiny computers. It occurred to Stone that he couldn’t even get a library card. He walked on.

The cars and trucks that passed by him as he made his way through the downtown area were all relatively new. He gazed up at the two-story jail, constructed of red brick with white columns out front and tubs of pansies guarding the entrance, and Coke and snack machines set against the wall. It was the most inviting entrance to the shackled life Stone had ever seen, though. Next door was a larger building, built of red brick too, with a clock tower and “Court House” stenciled on the outside.

A jail and a courthouse in such a little hamlet? With a supermax prison not that far away? But the supermax was for the deadliest of the deadly, not small-town criminals who probably stole car batteries and hit their bar mate while shit-faced.

As he was thinking this a small man with snowy white hair came out of the courthouse, perched a soft felt driving cap on his head and ambled down the street away from Stone.

“Want me to introduce you to the judge?”

Stone turned around and saw Tyree standing behind him. He must have come out of the jail. The big man moved quietly. Stone didn’t like that stealth.

“The judge?” A lawman and a judge. Just what he needed. They could both arrest and try him for murder right now.

Tyree nodded and called out, “Dwight, got somebody here you might want to meet.”

The small man glanced around, saw Tyree and smiled. He headed back toward them.

“This here is Ben,” Tyree said. “You got a last name, Ben?”

“Thomas,” Stone said quickly.

“Okay, this is the Honorable Dwight Mosley.”

Up close Stone had the impression that he was talking to a smaller version of Santa Claus with a trim beard in place of the bushy one.

Mosley chuckled. “I’m not sure how honorable I am or ever was, but it does indeed come with the title of a judge.”

“Ben was the one who saved Danny Riker’s butt when he got into some trouble on a train.”

“I heard Danny was back. Well, thank you, Ben. Danny can be, well . . .”

“Hotheaded?” suggested Stone.

“Impetuous.”

“A nicer word, but means the same thing,” Tyree pointed out with a laugh.

“Fine-looking courthouse you have there,” said Stone, glancing away from the judge. “I guess you have a lot going on?”

“You wouldn’t think a small town like this would have need of a courthouse or a judge,” Mosley said, apparently reading Stone’s mind. “But the fact is it does because my jurisdiction covers a large geographic area in addition to Divine. It’s not just litigation, though we have a fair amount of that, mostly over mineral rights and such and mining accidents resulting in personal injury. And federal law just changed a few months ago that required coalmining companies to file what are termed recertifications for all their property and operational aspects. Unfortunately for me, I’m the judge who has to review all of it.” He pointed at a delivery truck pulling into the small alleyway that led to a parking area behind the courthouse.

“Unless I’m much mistaken that’s another load of boxes filled with said recertifications. It’s been a boondoggle for mining lawyers, but I get paid the same regardless.”

“Monotonous work, I imagine,” said Stone.

“You imagine correctly. We’re also the repository for land deeds, surveys, rights-of-way, easements and the like, which also come to the court boxes at a time. But on a more personal level folks come to me with legal questions or counseling from time to time and I try to do the best I can.”

“Being neighborly,” said Tyree.

“That’s right. It is a small town after all. For example I helped Abby Riker get the restaurant and other property put into her name after Sam died.”

“Sounds like you keep pretty busy.”

“Yes, but I find time to do some hunting and fishing. And I like my walks. My walks take me all over. Beautiful countryside here.”

They paused for a moment as a mother and two kids walked by. Tyree tipped his hat to her and rubbed the heads of the kids while the judge gave them all a gracious smile.

After the family had passed Stone said, “Well, I better be going.”

But Mosley said, “Where are you from, Ben?”

Stone’s gut clenched. It wasn’t what Mosley had said, it was the way he’d said it. Or had he just become overly paranoid? “Here and there. Never had much inclination to put down roots.”

“I was the opposite of that, at least for a while. I called Brooklyn home for the first thirty years of my life. After that I spent time in South America and then Texas, near the border. But I’ve never seen any place as pretty as this.”

“How’d you end up here?” Stone asked, resigned at least for the moment to play the casual conversation game so as not to make the judge suspicious.

“Complete coincidence. Drove through on my way back to New York after my wife died, and my car broke down. By the time it was fixed a few days later, I’d fallen in love with the place.”

“And lucky for us he did,” said Tyree.

“The town has reciprocated,” said Mosley. “It certainly helped me get over my poor wife’s passing.” He added, “Are you going for a walk too?”

“To Abby’s actually. She has some work out at her house she wants me to do.”

“A beautiful place that is, A Midsummer’s Farm.”

“Is that what she calls it?” Stone asked.

Mosley nodded. “A variation on the Shakespeare play. A dream, you see. I guess in a way all of us up here are living a dream, isolated as we are from the rest of society.”

“Not such a bad thing,” Tyree noted. “The rest of society isn’t all that great. Divin

e is just what it sounds like, at least it is for me.”

Mosley passed by them and continued on down the street.

Tyree took off his hat and swiped his hair. “Well, you have a good one, Ben. Don’t work too hard.”

Tyree went inside the jailhouse and Stone continued on his way to Abby’s.

Or A Midsummer’s Farm.

Or a dream.

Or a nightmare.