Free Fallout (Joshua Stokes Mysteries Book 2) by Lila Beckham

folks. He’s a dangerous man to have around, I hate to cut it short but I do need to get going. I want to put out an All Points Bulletin using the description you gave me. I still have many places to check out.”
    They said their goodbyes, Joshua got into his patrol car and left. He lit a smoke and inhaled deeply. He wished he had a joint or a bottle of whiskey with him; he needed to mellow out. He was about to shove his Steppenwolf tape in and cruise the back roads, but decided to see what was playing on the radio. As he turned off Cuss Fork onto Georgetown Wilmer Road, a song came on that got his attention. The singer’s voice spoke to Joshua’s soul, maybe it was the music or the mood he was in, but he turned the volume wide open and listened. The words were sad but in an odd way, soothing.
    ‘Love scars - Love wounds, - and marks - Any heart, - not tough - Or strong enough - To take a lot of pain - Take a lot of pain - Love is like a cloud - Holds a lot of rain - Love hurts - ooh, ooh, Love hurts’ … Joshua had never felt so alone in his life.
    After coming to grips with himself as a person and the direction his life was headed when he entered his thirties, Joshua had never looked back or second-guessed himself; at least not until now.
    Did he need someone in his life, someone to hold and comfort him when he was feeling blue? He decided he was going to give it some serious thought, soon.
    A commercial from WTUF radio disc jockey and local celebrity, Romeo Sullivan, advertising something or another that he said was here on our ‘Beautiful Gulf Coast’ and announcing that they would be playing a new song by the Rolling Stones. Romeo Sullivan and the Serenaders sang ‘Haunting Rhythm’ live.
    Ol’ Romeo is sounding damn good in the studio these days, thought Joshua. After the bands set, they played the new Rolling Stones song, ‘Angie.’ Joshua had never been a fan of the Stones. The only song of theirs he actually liked was ‘Sympathy for the Devil’; however, he gave it a serious listen. It was another love type song, but soothing the same as the Nazareth song was. He did not need any depressing distractions interfering with his normal routines. He shoved his Steppenwolf tape into the 8-track and turned the radio off.
    When he reached Moffett Road, he turned left and headed toward W. C’s okra patch in Fairview. He figured that by the time he finished there it would be lunchtime; he could go by Uncle Joe’s Café and grab some lunch.
    When he reached the okra patch, there were probably a dozen Mexicans hoeing grass out of the fields. One lone white man was sitting on the tailgate of a pickup truck in the shade of a pine tree, supervising. Joshua pulled in behind the pickup and parked. He lit a smoke before getting out. The man sitting on the tailgate looked familiar; however, Joshua was having trouble putting a name to his face. He usually did not have trouble remembering names. He guessed turning fifty was going to be the beginning of memory lapses; another phase of growing older he reckoned. He did not like the way his body and mind were betraying him these days.
    “It’s been awhile. How’s it going this morning, Sheriff?” the man asked. A simple question deserved a simple answer, did it not…
    “You don’t recognize me, do you, Sheriff?” the man said. Joshua thought he looked a little disappointed.
    “I hate to say it, but no I don’t. You do look familiar though. I know I should probably know you,” Joshua replied.
    “I’m Curtis Lowe - the last time I saw you, you threw me into the back of your patrol car by the scruff of my neck and hauled my ass to jail for public intoxication and disturbing the peace. It was down at the Sun Set Inn, about fifteen years ago.” As soon as he said it, Joshua remembered him. If the fellow he gutted on the hood of a car had died, the charge would have been murder.
    “I remember you now. Been in any fights lately?”
    “No, Sir, I sure haven’t. I