Not a Chance(40)

"Nothing's changed, Travis," Neil said. He turned on the computer. "I put everything on here, all your files in icons on the desktop just the way you had them. There's just some updates to the operating system, but you'll barely even notice."

"There was nothing wrong with the old one."

"It took fifteen minutes to boot up."

"How much was this one?"

"We had the money. I checked with Dustin first. It was a necessary expense."

Travis grumbled.

"Of course, if you want, I can organize all of this..." Neil gestured to Travis's cluttered desk and the incomprehensible filing system on his computer.

"No way," Travis said.

"Fine," Neil shrugged. "But we lose money because of this."

"You can't prove that."

"I could if you let me get it all organized."

Travis shook his head. "Get back to work," he said. Neil rolled his eyes and went back out to the garage. The boy didn't belong there. He was the smartest of all of them. One of the reasons Travis was so mad about spending the money on the computer is that he and Dustin had been trying for the past few years to save up enough to send Neil to school. They had about two years tuition put away and they were about to start talking to Neil about picking out a school. They'd brought the subject up once several years ago and Neil wouldn't listen. He insisted he belonged with his brothers running the business. But Travis would make him listen next time. He didn't care what Neil did with his life, but he was going to do it with a college degree, that was for damn sure.

Travis sat behind his new computer and tried with all his might to hate it. But it worked so much faster that soon he'd forgotten he ever had that old one. He wrapped up the day's bookkeeping and was about to go climb under the hood of the Rebel when his phone rang. He picked it up.

"Lanier's."

"Travis, this is Luke." Luke Croney was one of Duane's friends, although the term "friend" was used in the loosest sense. He was more of a drinking buddy. "Duane's down at the courthouse being questioned by Wade."

"What the fuck for?" Travis asked.

"I don't know. I just thought you'd want to know."

"Thanks." Travis hung up. He took a moment to breathe. Then he grabbed his keys and stormed out to his car.

Wade was an informal man. He'd been sheriff for thirty years and good at it. He took care of his town and gave folks plenty of leeway to settle their own problems. Travis marched right into his office where Duane was sitting in a chair across the desk from Wade.

"...And we got Jesse Hager says you were with him when he knocked off that filling station," Wade was saying. "But you're telling me you had nothing to do with it?"

Duane was about to answer, but Travis stepped in and put his hand on his shoulder. "What's going on?"

"Three men broke into Stan Simmons' filling station," Wade said, "vandalized it and stole the cash from the register. Which wasn't much. Jesse Hager must've been drunk because he let someone see him. We picked him up and he confessed. Says Duane, here, was part of it."

"Are you arresting him?" Travis said, his tone tense.

"No, I'm just trying to ask him some questions is all, Travis," the middle-aged sheriff said, his southern Missouri drawl thick. "After all, he does have a history of increasingly violent criminal behavior."

"For God's sake, Wade," Travis said, "the worst thing he's ever done is vandalize the courthouse lawn."

"That's the worst thing he's been convicted of. You and me both know he's done worse things than that."

"My brother may be a bit of a hell-raiser, but he ain't a thief!"

"Seems to me I recall him getting in a bit of trouble for stealing."

"I was in junior high!" Duane shouted.

"For Christ's sake, Wade," Travis said, "you got no reason to be harassing him like this. You may as well question me and Dustin and Neil...we're Laniers too. Everyone in this town knows if something criminal happens you go arrest the nearest Lanier. Ain't that right?"

Wade closed his eyes and pressed his lips together. "Travis, that ain't what this is about. I got an eye-witness..."

"Who's a fucking criminal," Travis interrupted. "You're just going to take his word and the fact that Duane, here, is young and stupid and you're just going write him off, is that it?"

"Travis, you need to calm down and see this thing from my point of view."

"Fuck your point of view. Either arrest him or leave us the hell alone," Travis said.

Wade shook his head and looked away. "You'd best get hold of that temper, Travis, or else it's going to land you in jail. Duane," he said, turning to the youngest Lanier, "Your girlfriend’s given you an alibi and I ain't got evidence to lock you up. But for your own sake, I suggest you lay low and choose your friends more wisely."