Thursday, March 23, 2006


The Child's Voice
By H.A. Handy
Copyright (c) 2006 by H.A. Handy

Ritchie came back to Billy’s side and paced him back to the porch where Billy sat down to wait on his guest’s formal arrival to his house.

Woodrow “Wardy” Morgan was a handsome man. He was just over six feet in height, and his shoulders were square and strong. The shock of black hair and blue eyes just added to his charm. Besides being handsome, he was a tough man. Billy knew of six men Wardy had killed and about a dozen others he had had a hand in, but Wardy was not connected with any of them. No matter what Wardy had done, or would do in the future, would cause him to do any time. Wardy Morgan was one of the most powerful underground men in the entire county.

“Bill,” Ward said with a jerk of his head in greeting.


Ward stayed by his jeep for a minute. Billy knew the other man’s hand was on the gun stationed inside the special holster there. “Expecting trouble?” he asked with a quick glance around what parts of the property he could see. Ward was also a very smart man.

“Nah - just got back from town and was getting my stuff out of the car.” Ward visibly relaxed and let his door close. Ritchie rumbled softly as Ward came to the porch and took a seat on the other side of the case.

“Sure is pretty up here, Bill.”


“I need to store something up here for a couple of days.”

“How long?”

Wardy whistled softly before he answered, “About a week. What will it cost me?”

“What have you got?”

“Two girls. Runaways. Sixteen and seventeen. They owe me.”

Billy nodded, trying to appear calm and nonchalant about it all. The truth was other parts of him were hungry, too, and he liked ‘em young.

“Sounds good.”

“I’ll send the girls up tomorrow. Keep ‘em as long as you want. I’ll put my stuff in your barn tomorrow night. Don’t go snooping this time, Billy. It will be safer for both of us that way.”

“I don’t care what you put in my barn Wardy, you know that, as long as I know what it is.”

“Ammo for the fields. Some land mines. Some seed.”

“That’s the usual. What is so ‘unusual’ about what is going in there this time that I shouldn’t look at?” be continued

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