The Secret Garden Of Martha Grim.
By Richard A. Lopez (c) 1992



Page 10...

Willie was no longer grinning, either, now he was getting angry. Cop or no cop, nobody, not even his late parents spoke to him like this. No one spoke to Willie Cole like a punk.
Speaking through gritted teeth, he said, "What the problem Quinn? Not enough jaywalkers in town? You have to come out here to the highway and hassle us honest working folk." It wasn't a question.
Quinn yanked the trucks door open, causing Cole to spill out of his seat and onto the graveled shoulder of the highway.

"What the hell is wrong with you, cop!?" Willie was screaming as Quinn hauled him to his feet, slamming him roughly chest first, against the side of the truck.
"You gone crazy, you old bastard!"
"I'm sorry Willie, you should have been wearing that seat belt, you know." Quinn said. "Just stand there and shut the hell up before I shove this stick up your ass and make a Popsicle out of you!"
"Listen you little shit," Quinn continued, "You're anything but honest! If I had my way, I'd see you splattered all over this highway. Now you want to tell me what you were doing weaving in and out of traffic like some drunken idiot?" Quinn's face was now red with anger.
Willie could not believe the Sheriff's strength. Though Cole stood a good Six feet-four inches tall, it was only an inch and a half taller than Quinn, Quinn was no slouch, and at fifty-five, he was pretty solid himself.
Willie tried, but he could not believe the grip that Quinn had on him. The old man was strong, he'd give him that, and Willie couldn't break his grip, but if he kept him talking maybe he could get him to drop his guard.
"Since when is it against the law to change lanes, cop!" Willie shouted at Quinn.
"It's against the law when I say it is,punk! What, you think just because I was friends with your Ma and Pa, that gives you ca rte Blanche to do whatever it is you feel like doing in this County?" Quinn continued leaning on Cole, pushing his chest harder into the wooden rails that made up the stake bed portion of his truck.
Quinn words were like venom in Cole's ear, "Now you little asshole, you want to tell me what you were doing following Martha Grim's car like junkie jonesing after a fix?"
Willie could feel slivers of wood pushing through his shirt and into his chest. Sensing the futility of his struggle, he decided to go a different route, leverage.
Willie let his body suddenly go slack. The Sheriff, thinking that he had gained the upper hand, had begun to loosen his grip a bit, it was all that Cole needed. Willie was anything if he was fast, and he quickly moved his right foot inside and between Quinn's legs. Using a combination of upper and lower body strength, Willie pushed upward and then out against Quinn, keeping his right leg tangled up with Quinn's, sending them both toppling backward toward the pavement.
Willie wasted no time. He leaped onto Quinn's chest, knocking the wind from him, leaving him gasping for air. He then reached down and grabbed the sheriffs gun from it's holster. Lifting the still gasping sheriff by his shirt collar, Cole brought him to within inches of his face, "Who's the asshole now, Sheriff?", Willie hissed at Quinn, then brought the gun in a backhanded motion down across the bridge of his nose. Hard.
The blow dazed Quinn, but he couldn't black out. He had to hold on. He was not sure just how serious Cole was, was he going to shoot him or just hit him again? You could never tell with irrational types, like him. He had to try to reason with him, lull him into a false sense of security, just until he could get the gun back, then he was going to beat the shit out of him.
Problem was, it was hard to breathe, let alone talk, with Cole straddling his chest the way he was, but he had to try. "What are you going to do now, Cole?" Quinn said, the blood and Cole sitting on him was making every word and effort.
"You really blew it now, but you haven't made the big mistake. get off now, and just give up and we'll forget the whole rap in the nose bit."
"I don't know cop. What say I just blow your brains all over the shoulder and call it a fucking day? Huh?" Willie said, the barrel of the gun just inches from Quinn's forehead. "You think someone is going to save you? look around, no cars for miles. I could blast you right now, and no one would know the difference. Yeah, shoot you now, then you and my old man could be sucking brews in hell, seeing how's you and he were such good buddies and all."
Cole was grinning like a mad man. Quinn knew he was crazy enough to do it. So he just had to do what he did best when he played poker. Bluff.
"Go ahead, asshole," Quinn said, spitting blood out at Cole. "Go on and shoot, but know this, I radioed in my position, and if they don't hear from me soon, my deputies are gonna come looking, and when they find me, they'll come looking for you. Why? Cause I told them who I was pulling over, had good laugh about it, too."
"So you go right ahead, and know this, when they catch you, and they will. They're gonna stick your ass in the chair and fry you. Then me and your 'Old Man' will be waiting to kick your ass all over hell!"

Quinn's bluff must have worked, because Cole soon rose, still keeping the gun on him, but he got up nonetheless. "Okay old man," Willie said as he rose to his feet, "You win for now, but your luck will only hold for so long."
Willie backed away a bit, as Quinn started to rise, but as the was doing so, Cole reared back ad kicked him, hard, in the ribs. Sending the older man sprawling back to the pavement.
"That's for slamming me into my truck!" Cole shouted. He grabbed Quinn by the hair and smashed him with the butt of the revolver again and again. Then proceeded to kick him two more times in the ribs. "That's for just being an asshole cop!" he said, as he drove a knee into Quinn's face, sending him onto his back on the pavement.
In his semi-conscious state, an explosion tore through his head, Quinn wasn't sure if that idiot had just shot him, or if it was just the pain from the beating.
Turning to his side, he could see the origin of the loud bang. Cole was shooting out the tires on his police cruiser.

Coming over to him, Cole opened the chamber of the revolver and dumped the spent casing's onto Quinn's chest.
"Remember cop, I'm Willie Cole,"he said triumphantly, "And no one fucks with Cole. Not my old man, not some rich bitch, and not even you cop!" Willie yelled down at Quinn's prone body.
Throwing the revolver into the fields, Cole got into his truck and drove off down the highway toward the town. Leaving Quinn lying unconscious on the side of the
road.