Free El Gavilan by Craig McDonald

on anything together that we need to reevaluate or discuss?”
    “No, not at all like we should have been,” Able said. “The polite way to describe the former New Austin police chief would be ‘maverick.’ But a realist like you or me would term the cocksucker who preceded you a turf-conscience prick a hell of a lot more interested in self-advancement and job security than law enforcement. He was a weak-chinned coward.”
    “But you scored some big arrests in my town recently, Sheriff,” Tell said. “The prostitution bust a few weeks back. A cockfighting ring. And I get the sense from reading my boys’ duty reports that you’re maybe working on something involving meth my way too.”
    “Jesus, you’re sharp, Tell. Regarding the hookers and the birds, you’ll notice I waited until New Austin was between chiefs to move on those messes, so as not to step on toes. And the meth traffic in Horton County, you’re right, it’s centered in New Austin. Out in your rural south end, but radiating out all over Horton County and beyond. I expect news maybe before week’s end on that front. My folks did the heavy lifting and took the risks, but I’m happy to have your crew, and you, come along and share credit. For the sake of the media, we’ll make it look like a long-term, joint operation if you’re okay with that.”
    “Sounds great to me … sounds like a
gift
,” Tell said. “And why would you do that?”
    Able waved a hand. “It ain’t an act of charity on my part, or indication I’m fucking Santa Claus, Tell. I’d do it to inspire some of the other police chiefs around Horton County to cooperate more with the sheriff’s department. Stakes are too high for this balkanization and ‘little kingdoms’ crap that’s currently too much the damned norm.”
    “Then let’s do that,” Tell said.
    The old lawman smiled broadly. “Great. We will. And you’re a real important symbol to me going along, Tell. I mean with your Border Patrol background and all.”
    Tell rubbed the back of his neck. He said softly, “Suppose that’s so.”
    Able sipped his coffee, then said, “Anything else I can do for you, Chief?”
    Tell shrugged his shoulders. “Possibly something I haven’t thought of yet. Frankly, I’m still finding my feet, Able. And my bench isn’t that deep. I’ve got some solid people, but …”
    “But no stars,” Able said. “You’ve got no strong right hand, right? No consigliere?”
    “Not so far as I’ve detected yet,” Tell said.
    “Wish to Christ I could boast that my bench was deeper than yours in that sense,” Able said. “But it so ain’t. Sadly, I can’t yet clone myself.” Able sat back and smiled. “So, us lacking strong lieutenants, you and me, I guess we’ll just have to content ourselves with the knowledge we have one another’s backs, am I right, Tell?”
    “Looks as though it’s apt to be that way, Able.” Tell paused. “You really listening to Spanish language tapes?”
    “Really am,” Able said. “For all the good it’s doing me. I’m beginning by learning how to curse in Spanish.” He raised his hand. “No, don’t smile like that—I’m serious. If I can curse a blue streak in their own language, it cuts through a lot. I’ve concluded it’s the most useful Spanish for a gringo cop.”
    * * *
    Tell’s ass was getting sore. He’d been sitting in the goddamn booth too long.
    Able Hawk had no sooner hauled up his bulk and left after a firm handshake than a haggard and hung-over Shawn O’Hara shambled in and parked his skinny butt in Able’s seat.
    The reporter had plunked a tape recorder down on the tabletop between them. Then he’d broken out a long and slender notebook, and set off on a disjointed and rambling series of questions that veered between sophomoric, intrusive, and, in the case of the murder of Tell’s wife and child, insulting—even provocative. Or Tell thought so.
    Tell bit his lip and gave straight answers to matters involving his