"Wall, Don - Caliber Of Justice" - читать интересную книгу автора (Wall Don)

“Traces of—clay?” I didn’t realize ‘til later that I’d dropped a clean pitcher — didn’t even hear it break, in fact. “But wait a minute — that could mean -- ” I had a mental image of that clay pit.
“Means nothing, believe me. I sure don’t intend to bring it up. Well, guess I’ll be going. Gotta see somebody before I head up to Red Lodge.”
As he was leaving, Mitch Urdahl came in for his usual peppermint schnapps before his stint at the truck stop.
“Howdy, Bob,” Mitch said.
“Hi, Mitch,” Harrison said, and left.
I closed my mouth long enough to say, “Mitch — you know that guy?”
“Oh, sure, Swede. He comes around the truck stop every so often for coffee and to talk to his cousin.”
“His — cousin--?”
“Yep--works at the truck stop. Name’s Cheryl--Cheryl Peterson.”