Death By Rodeo Part IV
My name is Sunny Alexander. And I’m Henry James and we’re writers for Dark Sides of the Truth magazine.
We were traveling the World Wide Web by the time Damen stumbled into the kitchen and slouched his way to the coffee maker.
“Good morning sleepy head.”
“Morning.”
“Well aren’t we a little monosyllabic today?”
“I swear. You and mom. Always rays of sunshine aren’t you?”
“I don’t think I’d go that far Damen. Maybe your mom, but Sunny? A little ray of sunshine? Isn’t that stretching it a bit?”
“Zip it James.”
Damen poured himself a cup then shuffled over to the kitchen table and plopped in a chair. For several minutes he nursed his cup in silence, then he rubbed his eyes with both hands and stared across the table at us.
“How long have you two been at it?”
“At the computers or at the rodeo arena?”
“Seriously Sunny? You two went to the arena this morning?”
“Yes and while our barrel racing instructor over here gave a cute young thing a few tips, we found out a couple of interesting bits of information.”
“Like what?”
“Like this Randy guy, the clown that died? His name’s Randall Culpepper. Turns out when his dad passed away he inherited half of the rights to the rodeo.”
“Okay. so?”
“Sunny? You want to tell Damen what’s behind door number two?”
“The co-owner’s name is Charles Throckmorton, father of one Justin Throckmorton.”
“That supposed to mean something to me?”
“Nothing to you, but when we start sniffing around and smell three day old fish, it means we’re on to something. Seems like Justin’s been shooting off at the mouth lately. Telling everybody his dad is going to make some big changes to the rodeo.”
“Yeah, so?”
“Wow, Damen for being such a smart dude, I would think you’d see the connection here.”
“I’ll remember you said that Henry the next time I have you assist with a bowel resection.”
“What the hell is that?”
“My point exactly.”
“Boy’s let’s play nice in the sand box shall we? What Henry is trying and failing miserably to say is that if Randy Culpepper was co-owner of the rodeo and Charles Throckmorton owned the other half what would happen if one of them died?”
“Whoever’s left gets it all.”
“Exactly brother. We think either Charles did something or Justin did. Maybe even Charles had Justin take care of the business end of things. Wouldn’t be the first time a money hungry bastard used his children like pawns.”
“Hate to spoil your victory lap Sis, but you’ve got no proof.”
“Oh, that’s never been a problem for us.”
“What the heck does that mean?”
“We’re going to dig around until we find it.”
Damen got up and refreshed his coffee. He turned and slouched against the counter, stared at us then shook his head. Using his coffee cup as a pointer he waved it at us.
“Why can’t you two let the police handle this?”
“Where’s the fun in that?”
Damen closed his eyes and again shook his head. He pushed himself from the counter and walked away. We heard him from the living room, “Okay but I swear to God Sunny if you get hurt Mom’s going to blame me for it.”
“You want me to sign a waiver?”
When no answer came we peered over the edges of our laptops and smiled at each other. Then we shrugged and began cruising the web again. Thirty minutes later we stumbled on another piece of information.
On its own merit it wasn’t much, but after we tied this piece to the other ball of yarn we were collecting we both decided it was pretty important.
“Check this out Henry. Randy Culpepper’s dad Daniel?”
“Yeah?”
“He was a rodeo clown. He owned half of the rodeo and yet for years he pranced around yucking it up during the rodeo season. What kind of guy would do that?”
“Sunny. I don’t think you understand the nature of a rodeo clown. They ain’t there just for entertainment and scaring the bejezzus out of you.”
“Do tell.”
“It’s one of the more dangerous professions on the circuit. These guys and gals put their lives on the line every single night. They do what they do because yes, most of them are adrenaline junkies, but there’s a higher calling Sunny. They save lives.”
“What? How’s that possible?”
“Those are half ton beasts these riders perch their butts on. A thousand pounds of pissed off animals who only want to do two things. First, get the crazy person sitting on their back off their back and second, make them pay for the indiscretion.”
“I still don’t understand Henry.”
“A rider who gets tossed and doesn’t have time to get to the gate, usually meets the horns and hooves of that bull when it spins around. I can’t tell you the times I’ve seen a rider get the crap mauled of him. To help a rider out only takes a distraction for a couple of seconds.”
“Distraction?”
“Yeah, that’s what the clowns are for Sunny. They put themselves in front of that bull and get it to focus on them just long enough for the rider to make it to the gate.”
“But that’s crazy Henry. Now the bull is concentrating on them. They could get killed.”
“Some of them have been. Daniel Culpepper for one.”
“Oh, my God.”
“I don’t know about you but that little bit of info explains a lot. Randy chose to go the way of his father, to honor his dad the only way he knew how.”
“He became a clown just like his father.”
“And just like his father he died because of it.”
“Let me guess. Daniel Culpepper and Charles Throckmorton co-owned the rodeo when Daniel died right?”
“On the nose girl.”
“So now what?”
“Don’t know about you, but I’m going to take a nap.”
“What?”
“Listen, first off I ain’t a spring chicken anymore. Second off, we’re going to be putting in some late night work at 8 Seconds. Or did you forget?”
“No I didn’t forget grandpa. Set your alarm for ten. I figure we should try to get there around eleven.”
“Got it. You be nice and maybe I’ll show you how to do a little boot scooting. ”
“I don’t have any steel toed boots handy.”
“Bite me Alexander. See you at ten.”
READ ON — DEATH BY RODEO PART V
Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII, Part VIII, Part IX, Part X, Part XI, Conclusion
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