Page 90 of Big Britches
“Yeah, Titus, let the old man protect your pansy ass.”
“Are you suicidal? You need to be quiet,” Tuttle said, pointing at Junior. “You and me both know that Titus Shepherd could rip off your head and go bowling with it. I can only keep him at bay from your asinine taunts for so long.”
“Then let him go. I’ll throw his ass in jail, too. Assaulting a police officer.”
“You’re not putting anyone in jail. And you’re going to release Pedro Torres. Right now.”
“The hell I am.”
“It is in your better interest.”
“And why is that?”
“Because we have a witness, Junior. A witness that saw you put that leaf-blower in Pedro’s truck at eight thirty-five this morning.”
Junior went to speak, then paused. Nothing revealed his guilt more than this hesitation.
“No, you don’t. Who?”
“We are not at liberty to disclose that information before court. That is–if you want this to go to court. But I don’t think you do, do you? Be a shame, losing this cushy job your dad got you all because Silas Compton was looking for a favor.”
“You can’t prove a fucking thing,” Junior said. “I’m the law.”
Tuttle glanced at Titus, who was turning beet-red, like Yosemite Sam in the cartoons, fists clenched. He looked back at Junior and said, “Listen to me, you foul-mouthed little pissant. If you agree to release Pedro right now, when we open that door, everything that just transpired never happened. It’ll be just a fading memory between the three of us.”
Again, Junior looked conflicted. The cogs were turning behind his weaselly eyes, the opportunity for evasion prevalent. “What about Silas?” he asked. “He was going to INS. He was gonna have that guy deported.”
“He can’t do that and he knows it,” Tuttle says. “That’s why he’s setting Pedro up by having you say he stole the power tools. Anything over five hundred dollars is considered a felony and would compromise his bid for citizenship. Silas knows this. You’re the one who’ll be in trouble when we disprove it. He’s using you, Junior.”
“What else is new?” Titus scoffed. “You’ve been kissing Silas Compton’s ass since high school. If I didn’t know better, I’d think maybe there’s something more than just friendship going on between you two.”
“Now, you?—”
“Now, nothing,” said Tuttle. “Titus, stop stirring the pot. Junior, you need to release that young man now. Do the right thing, son.”
“Can I at least put an ankle monitor on him? Then I can tell Silas?—”
Titus had had enough. He stepped around Tuttle, grabbed Junior by the shirt, and lifted him to his toes. “You go near him with anything of the sort and I’ll roll up that Hustler magazine and pack your fudge.”
“OK, OK,” Junior said, yielding. He opened the desk drawer and removed a key ring. “Let’s go get him out.”
Tuttle smiled. “That’s a very informed decision you’ve made, Junior. I’m proud of you.”
They saw Pedro in the holding cell before he realized they were there. He was huddled in a corner, head down. Titus glared at Junior, who fumbled with the keys and quickly opened the cell door. Pedro glanced up at the sound. His face was red, cheeks wet, hair disheveled. He looked like he’d been there a week instead of a little over an hour.
“T?” he whimpered.
“Yeah, babe. It’s me.”
Pedro stood, lunging for Titus. The sobs followed, deep and mournful, as he collapsed into Titus’s arms.
“There, there. It’s alright,” Titus said, squeezing him firmly. “Big T’s here. You’re safe now. I promise.”
“He wants to send me back… after all I’ve done for him. Two and a half years and he wants to send me back. He did the same to Carlos. I’m sure of it now.”
“That’s not gonna happen, young man.” Tuttle said. He extended a hand and Pedro took it in his own, reflexively. “I’m your lawyer now. I’ve spoken with an immigration attorney in Atlanta. She’s instructed me on how to proceed. She also has some friends who have taken a keen interest in the so-called operations of Compton’s Greenscapes. I took it upon myself to leave out the part about your being detained by an imbecile.” Tuttle shot sharp eyes at Junior, who suddenly found the adjacent wall fascinating. “Thought maybe we could manage that part on our own.”
“You’re safe,” Titus whispered. “You’re with me now. I won’t let anyone come near you.”