looking for something to eat right now,” I replied.
“Okay then. What can I get started for you?” she asked curtly.
“How’s your rib eye?”
“Best if you have it medium rare.”
“Okay, I’ll have one with a baked potato.”
“Sorry,” she said, “we just got mashed. That okay?”
I was tired, and my patience was slim at this point, I just answered, “Whatever, whatever you got is fine.” I waved my hand in a dismissive gesture.
She turned away, and I saw her throw a nod of her head back at me while looking at the pool players.
Several minutes later, the smallest man at the pool table walked toward mine. I went to high alert. He had a cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth, and his eyes were squinting from the smoke as he looked my way. When he got to my table, he was still carrying his pool cue, his hand was wrapped around it tight as it rested on his shoulder, I noticed tattooed letters above his knuckles. I recognized TINA in script.
“You got a problem, mister?”
I looked him in the eyes without answering. I moved my hands to the edge of the table.
“Why you givin’ my lady a hard time? She’s just doing her job. I need you to apologize to her when she brings your meal. You hear me, man?”
I saw the other two men began to walk across the room to back up their partner. The three men looked related, ugly men, with meanness oozing from their eyes.
“Answer me, mister. You gonna apologize? Or are we cracking you upside your head?”
I didn’t want the other two men to get any closer. I pushed the table hard and fast into the smaller man’s thighs. He stumbled back as I stood. I grabbed his cue at the narrow end with my left hand as he stumbled. I swung it around my head then hard against the right side of his skull. The crack was loud, and it briefly startled his buddies. He dropped to his knees.
The bigger guy to my right pulled a long hunting knife and lounged my way. As he swung it at my face, I hit his wrist hard with the cue. I knew I had broken it. I grabbed his wrist and turned it backward, inflicting more pain as he screamed the knife fell to the ground.
I dropped the cue stick and used my left hand to deliver an open palm strike to his nose. I felt bone break on contact. As he was dropping, I pulled my Desert Eagle from behind my back and pointed it at number three.
Then a loud voice yelled, “That’s enough.”
I glanced to my left and a rain jacketed man with a Stetson dripping water stood there with a shotgun aimed at all four of us.
The third man that was still standing backed away, almost cowering.
Stetson looked at me and asked, “Army?”
“Yep,” I said.
Then he asked, “You got a permit for that cannon?”
“I do.”
“You LEO?” I asked him.
“Federal, Park Ranger, from Flaming Gorge.”
“You gonna arrest me?” I asked.
“Not if you put that gun away.”
I slowly put the Eagle back behind my back under my belt.
Stetson was still looking at me, ignoring the three others. “I know these boys here. They’re trouble. They set strangers up all the time. So I’m going to take your side on this one. Besides, I saw your moves as I walked in the back door. Special ops training’s my guess.”
“Yep, your guess is right.”
“Okay, listen, if you have a room here in town, I’d recommend you grab your belongings now. Move on down the road whatever direction you’re heading. I’ll hold these boys off. Maybe call them an ambulance. Now get moving.”
Then he looked over at short red. “Tina, you stay right there. No calling your kin in on this, lest you want Wayne, Billie, and Ansel to feel my wrath.”
Tina nodded and stood there.
I turned and walked out the front as the rain was heavier than earlier. I jumped in the Four Runner and headed to Motel 8. I got to my room, grabbed my bag, and left my key on the dresser. I didn’t want to talk to the blond in the office again she might have set me up.
I drove out of the lot, got to 80 East, to Cheyenne. I was still tired and hungry, but the adrenaline rush from the bar brawl kept my eyes wide open. I remembered that I didn’t even thank Stetson as I walked out. No matter, I knew he was ex-Army like me, a brother helping out a brother.
I would find food and sleep in Cheyenne. I looked at it in a positive way, just brought me closer to Questa, New Mexico, and Mike Groves.
I made the outskirts of Cheyenne by 0115 hours. I spotted a twenty-four-hour diner. Its neon sign said, “ROSIES.” I pulled in and parked right out front. This was the first open place I had found since I left Rock Springs.
That long dark stretch of road was lonely at this hour. I had only seen two or three sets of headlights coming toward me the whole way, all trucks. I was barely able to keep my eyes open. At the state I was in, I didn’t know if I was more tired or hungry. I needed both food and a place to sleep.
There were seven big rigs lined up in the lot when I pulled in. I thought that was a good sign, at least the food should be fresh and hot.
I walked in the double-glass door unnoticed. No one even gave me a glance. I sat at the counter on the end. There were two ball-capped drivers sitting midway. I sat far enough away so I couldn’t hear their conversation, and they wouldn’t strike one up with me.
A pleasant middle-aged woman, her name tag said Sally, put a cup down in front of me and said, “Looks like you need coffee, sweetie.”
“Fill ’er up,” I said, and she did.
“We got a fresh batch of biscuits right out of the oven, and our gravy is chuck full of bacon. Can I get you a plate?”
“Yep, that sounds about what I need.”
“Comin’ right up.”
I sipped my coffee. The flavor was lacking, but its strength was hard. I sat with my shoulders sagging with fatigue, staring into the dark brown liquid in my cup. I was finally settling down from the events from the night. I had to get some sleep soon. When I ate, I knew a full stomach would only make that sleepy feeling stronger.
Sally soon returned with a steaming plate. I dug in, and the food did not disappoint. When she returned to fill my coffee, I asked her if she knew a good place where I could get a few hours sleep.
She put both hands on the counter and asked, “You a vet?”
“I am,” I replied. “Army, three tours in Afghanistan.”
