CHAPTER 6
After a wonderful breakfast of juevos rancheros, Houston set out to talk to Billy Ray Tucker. Sure enough, he was still living with his dad. Matt thought about how Billy Ray used to throw around his dad's money and name to get whatever he wanted. From the looks of things, not much had changed. It was 9:30 in the morning, but Billy Ray was already well into a bottle of Jack Daniel's finest.
"Well, well, what do we have here? If it isn't the pretty boy that went up to Hollywood. Got a part in a movie yet, pretty boy?" said Billy Ray.
"No, I sure haven't. I'm not an actor, I'm a private investigator. As a matter of fact, I've got a couple of questions to ask you." replied Houston.
"And I've probably got some answers that you won't like, Mr. Private Eye." Tucker took another large swig from the bottle.
"Where were you last Saturday night?" asked Houston.
"None of your damn business! How's that for an answer?" Billy Ray said.
Houston stepped closer to him. The man positively reeked of alcohol. It seemed to seep from his very pores.
As Houston grabbed two of the fingers on Billy Ray's left hand and twisted them backwards, the drunk man screamed and fell out of his chair.
"I'm gonna ask you one more time: where were you last Saturday night?" said Houston giving an extra little twist on the fingers.
"Alright, alright! Damn it! I was in the jail. Got picked up on a DUI. Are you happy now?" he asked as Houston turned him loose.
"Yep, always happy to see one less drunk on the road" he replied. "Have a nice day, Billy Ray." With that he walked back to his truck and started the engine. As he put it in reverse, the nearly empty whiskey bottle hit the brush guard on the front of the truck. A stream of four letter words accompanied the breaking glass.
Houston drove on back toward town and headed for the sheriff's office. Once inside, he ran into an old friend from high school who was working the front desk.
"Chuck, how the heck are ya doin'?" Matt asked shaking the hand of a man he hadn't seen in almost twenty years.
"Houston! What are you doing here? Heard you was working as a gumshoe up in Hollyweird." replied the deputy.
"Yep, been doing pretty good there. How's Lisa doing? Y'all got a house full of kids yet?" he asked.
"Five if you can believe it. Three mean little boys and two of the sweetest little girls you've ever seen." said Chuck.
"By golly, I do believe it. The girls obviously take after their mother" he laughed.
"What can I do for you, Houston? I know you didn't just wander in here. " Chuck replied.
"Well, I'm glad you're here. Could you tell me if Billy Ray Tucker was a guest of the county last Saturday night?" he asked.
"He sure was. Don't need to look that one up on the computer. I was on duty that night. That son of a buck was so loaded he couldn't hardly put one foot in front of the other. And believe me, he's not a happy drunk. His attitude goes from bad to purely hellacious when he's drinkin'" said Chuck. "Why're you asking?"
"Well, I was down here for Paul Dickens funeral and found out that he wasn't the only cowboy around here to be killed in a rodeo accident recently. Just sounds odd, three cowboys killed in four months." Houston said.
"And you naturally wondered where Mr. Personality Tucker was when it happened?" he asked with a big grin. " I would have wondered that myself if I hadn't already known he was sleeping it off in the tank with the rest of the drunks that night. That guy is nothing but bad news. But if he keeps on getting drunk and getting behind the wheel even all of his daddy's money won't be able to keep him out of the pen."
"Or the graveyard. Just hope he doesn't take an innocent person with him if that's the case. Listen Chuck, it was sure good to see ya again. If you ever get up to LA, give me a holler." Houston said, shaking his hand.
"Might just do that someday" Chuck laughed.