Order now at:

In the bright sunlight, Casey slipped on dark sunglasses and stopped beside the faded blue trailer. A large spider web glistened in the sun stretching from the bottom of the trailer to sun-rotted tires. Someone had fastened a television antenna to the awning rail of the trailer using duct tape. Casey could hear The Jerry Springer Show inside, as the audience chanted "Jerry...Jerry." Casey rapped on the door once. "Snake needs ya."

A man's soft voice called from inside. "Oh, dear. What does he need?"

"Ain't no mind reader." Casey pressed his back against the trailer, keeping an eye on the back door of the bar.

When the trailer door opened a crack, Casey reached inside, grabbed the man's neck and pulled him forward. A beer bottle shattered against the trailer steps as a skinny man in a tattered muscle shirt screamed and somersaulted out the door, landing on his butt.

Casey pressed his Nike against the man's throat. "You're late for your court appointment, Ritchie."

"Oh, no!" Ritchie's eyes blinked wide. He grabbed Casey's ankle and struggled to remove the shoe from his neck. Tears rolled down his cheeks. "You're hurting me," he managed.

Reaching into his jacket pocket, Casey pulled out a pair of handcuffs. He rolled Ritchie onto his stomach. "About a month late... for your trial."

Trying to twist free, Ritchie wheezed, "Snake, get this animal off me. Please!"

Looking up, Casey saw the bartender lumbering toward him with a scowl creasing his angry face. Squeezing the handle of a baseball bat, he charged with a loud roar and raised the bat over his head.

Casey dropped the handcuffs and pulled a Taser from his pocket, and pointed the weapon at the charging man. "Don't do it!"

The bartender stopped ten feet away, still holding the bat over his head. A snarl curled his lip. "You ain't takin' Ritchie."

"It's okay, Snake. They allow conjugal visits in prison."