Chapter 24
Keith answered the phone on the first ring, “Duke City Software, this is Keith.”
“Good morning, sir. This is Sergeant Renfeld with the Teton County Sheriff’s Office in Jackson, Wyoming. We have a person incarcerated here on a charge of disorderly conduct. His name is Harrell Wade Harrison with an operator’s license out of Tennessee. We found your name and address in his automobile. Are you an acquaintance of Mr. Harrison?”
“Yes, I am. He was a schoolmate of mine at the University of Alabama for the past several years. He was just here visiting in Albuquerque for a few days last week,” replied Keith. “His parents live in Nashville, Tennessee, as I recall. I understand he is on like a three-week road trip through the west. How can I help you?”
“Perhaps you already have,” replied the deputy. “At this point, we’re just verifying identification and assessing flight risk if the charge holds. Does Mr. Harrison have a history of difficulty with women to your knowledge?”
“I am not aware of any difficulty, but then I am not privy to his personal life to any great degree. I suspect, however, that had he any run-ins with the law these past several years, I would have heard about it,” answered Keith.
“Thank you so much for your help and good day, sir,” was the deputy’s closing comment.
Keith sat for a moment shaking his head and thinking to himself, ‘some people are just born for trouble’.
A second call came in about four hours later. It was Wade. “Keith, you’ve got to help me out. I got in a little trouble up here in northwestern Wyoming. I met a girl at the lodge in the Tetons and I thought she was into me significantly more than she was. I took her to my cabin for a ‘nooner’ and, when I made my move, she ran to the front office and reported me to the police. Thank God she decided not to press charges after all, but my daddy is madder than hops and canceled my Visa. I got no money to get back home. You’ve got to help me out!”
Keith found himself shaking his head once again. “Wade, I couldn’t name a worse credit risk than you. From our past affiliations, I feel somewhat obligated to you. But payback would have to be ironclad. What do you have for collateral?”
“All I’ve got is my car. It’s a ’68 Mustang fastback with a really souped-up engine. It ought to be worth quite a bit,” answered Wade.
Keith knew little and cared less about cars; all he wanted was to safeguard his loan. “Wade, you have a lawyer there draw up a 30 day $500 promissory note with title to the car as collateral. As soon as I receive the note, I’ll wire the money to you. That should be enough to get you back to Tennessee if you take the most direct route. When you get home, send me $500 and I’ll send the contract back to you. Is it a deal?” asked Keith.
“I’ll get right on it; ten four,” came the reply.