DEADLY DILEMMA by Dan Stratman (free ebook reader for iphone TXT) 📕

headed for the building. He slapped his buddy across the arm. “There’s our next six-pack, Billy. Let’s go.”

The men quietly slipped out of the truck and moved quickly toward Cyndi from behind.

Mullet Man pulled a switchblade covered with faux pearl out of his back pocket. He pressed a button on the side and flicked open the razor-sharp six-inch blade.

Cyndi struggled with the heavy plastic bags, trying to keep them from splitting open before reaching the building. With the men only ten feet away, she put the bags down on the sidewalk, as if to get a better grip.

“Hand over your wallet, bitch,” the driver growled, pointing the knife at the back of Cyndi’s neck.

She spun around and kicked the knife out of his hand in one fluid motion. It sailed away into the darkness and buried itself in a snowbank. “Can I help you idiots with something?” she calmly asked the stunned cowboys.

“Oh, it’s you, Stafford,” the passenger said, his voice quivering. “We didn’t mean nothin’. Just messin’ around.”

Cyndi taunted him as she pointed at the cast on his arm. “You’re a slow learner, Billy. I thought you’d be more reluctant to bother me again.”

Billy’s head drooped as he kicked at the sidewalk.

His buddy gawked at him in disbelief. “You got your ass kicked by a girl? You told me you got bucked off a horse.”

Cyndi pointed toward the parking lot. “Why don’t you two sod busters be on your way.” She pinched her nose. “And next time you’re at Walmart, try buying a bar of soap, for God’s sake.”

They turned and scurried back to their truck.

Cyndi entered her building and knocked on the first door she came to.

An elderly woman wearing slippers and a faded flower-print muumuu answered the door. She opened it as far as the security chain would allow and peered out suspiciously. “Who the heck are you?”

“Hi, Ruby; it’s Cyndi. I’ve got your groceries for the week.”

Thick prescription glasses hung from her neck on a silver chain. She hoisted them in place and squinted. A big smile suddenly crossed Ruby’s face. “Well, I’ll be. Come on in, dearie.” She unlatched the chain and ushered Cyndi in.

Once a rough and tough cowgirl in her youth, Ruby was now wafer-thin, stooped over, and needed a cane to walk even the shortest distances. An oxygen canula encircled her head. The plastic feeder tube trailed Ruby wherever she went, occasionally entangling her feet like an overeager puppy.

She hobbled over to the kitchen table, pushed aside a stack of coupons, and told Cyndi, “Put them here.”

Cyndi’s biceps rejoiced after depositing the heavy bags on the table. She flopped her arms around like wet spaghetti to work out the tension. She’d spared no expense getting the best options the local Safeway had on its shelves. Cyndi reached in and pulled out a bounty of healthy, nutritious food from the bags. She put each item away in its proper place.

“Did you get the chocolate cake Henry likes so much?” Ruby asked. “I nag him all the time about how bad it is for him, but he don’t listen. Mule-headed fool.”

Cyndi laid a hand on Ruby’s shoulder. “Henry has been gone for over a year now. Remember?”

Profound sadness washed over her weathered and wrinkled face. “Oh goodness gracious. My darn memory is shot to hell. Gets worse every day. Doc Worthington says there’s nothing more he can do. Says one day I won’t even be able to remember my own name.” She looked at Cyndi with a weary expression. “Don’t go gettin’ old, dearie. Nothing but problems.”

Being defenseless against the cruel toll aging took on her body and mind were all too familiar realities to the once strong woman.

Cyndi changed the subject. “Do you have the coupons for next week?”

Ruby gathered up seventy-five cents’ worth of coupons and handed them to Cyndi. “You wipe out all those dang commies yet?”

“No, not yet. Maybe tomorrow, Ruby.”

“You better hurry. We got so many damned missile silos in these parts it looks like an outbreak of chickenpox on a map. We’d be nothing but a glowin’ hole in the ground if they ever decided to kick off World War III.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

Ruby cocked her head and looked into Cyndi’s tired eyes. “You okay, dear? How was work today?”

“Very strange.”

“Did I ever tell you I worked in the Powder River coal mines when I was your age?”

“I think you might have mentioned it once or twice,” Cyndi said with a patient voice and an understanding smile on her face.

“That was some tough work. I worked twice as hard as the guys just to get half the pay. Even then, they told me I was stealing a job from the men in town who were trying to feed their families. But I laid down the law with the fellas on my first day. I told them, ‘I was raised on a farm with five older brothers, so I ain’t about to take any guff from you damned rednecks.’ They got the message real quick. If any of those boys out at the base give you any trouble, you send them over my way. I’ll fix their wagon, but good. Us girls, we have to stick together.”

“Thanks for having my back, Ruby. I’ll remember that.”

The old woman plucked a handful of tattered one-dollar bills out of her pocketbook. “How much do I owe you?”

Cyndi reached into the last grocery bag, crumpled up the receipt, and quietly slipped it into her pocket. “You already paid me for the groceries when I came in. Don’t you remember?”

Ruby bounced the heel of her hand off her wrinkled forehead. “My darn memory is shot to hell. Gets worse every day. Doc Worthington says there’s nothing—”

“Okay, Ruby, have a nice night. I’ll come by tomorrow to check up on you.” Cyndi let herself out before the entire conversation with Ruby could be replayed. She went across the hall and unlocked the door to her apartment. When she opened it, an object darted