The receipt had been pocketed and the salt put up onto her table for Cooper and Dranko when a group of men approached. Cooper saw them first and tapped Dranko’s foot and directed his attention to them with his eyes.
A short man, listing to the stocky side, emerged at the front of the group of five men. He had black hair, likely dyed, given his age. It was kept short and greased back. He was in his fifties, with dark brown eyes.
“Afternoon, gentlemen,” he said with a firm, commanding voice. “I’m Sheriff Hodges.” He extended his hand and promptly attempted to crush Cooper’s hand. Cooper pressed back to show him he could, but didn’t go so far as to invite a contest.
“Good afternoon, Sheriff. I’m CJ and this is my good friend, Paul Dranko.” The two men quickly shook hands, as well.
“You paying in silver, I see.”
“Yes, we are. Is that a problem?” Cooper responded.
Hodges shook his head, “Of course not. In fact, we need more metal to come into circulation. Bartering for everything is very cumbersome.”
“Glad we could be of assistance.”
“Indeed. You new in town? I haven’t seen you before.”
“We just came in, staying at my property just outside of town,” Dranko weighed, mustering politeness.
“Most excellent. We need more upstanding folks who can pay their bills in town.” He rubbed his hands together while talking. “Dranko? Yes, I remember your name from the tax rolls.”
“You must have a good memory,” Cooper added.
“Well, Dranko’s an unusual name. We were keeping eyes on the empty properties, keeping them secure until the owners arrived or we would declare them abandoned and award them to those families in need for a place to live. We have a number of refugees, you know?” Cooper watched Hodges sizing them up as he talked.
“I’m glad you remembered me,” Dranko said, unsure of where Hodges was heading. Cooper knew. Here comes the tax warning.
“Thank you. I should let you know, there are levies that all who live in the area pay. For the costs of our collective security, I’m sure you can understand. The outlying areas consume more resources to patrol and there might be an issue with the work we’ve done the last few weeks keeping your place secure, as well.” By the time he had finished, Hodges’ smile was as greasy as his hair. His delivery was polished, and reminded Cooper of a very successful used car salesman.
Dranko stepped forward, “That’s complete…”
Cooper grunted, and used his arm to bar his friend and interrupt him, “We’ll certainly do our part for our collective security, but we will not need any special measures. We can defend our area. And, while we appreciate the efforts you’ve made thus far to keep it safe, we did have to deal with an interloper when we arrived. So, clearly there were some unfortunate gaps in the security, despite your good efforts. Which we appreciate. I’m sure you are a fair man and you’ll keep that in mind in considering the costs of any past efforts by the town.” Cooper returned the same wide, insincere smile he had received.
Hodges met Cooper’s eyes and the two men stared at each other for a long moment. Cooper saw a resolute and cunning man. Determined. He looked directly at Hodges, his eyes steeled to show him he wasn’t a man to be reckoned with lightly.
“Of course,” Hodges said. “I’d be remiss in not introducing you to my son. He’s essential to the good operation of our small town.” A younger man stepped forward.
“I’m Junior Hodges, Undersheriff for Estacada.” He stood a few inches above his father, with light brown hair, and bright blue eyes. His smile looked more like a snarl. Not as polished as his father. The men shook hands and exchanged pleasantries.
“It was a pleasure to meet you fine men, and again, welcome to our fair town. A team of my men will visit you in the next few days to do an assessment and explain our levy procedures.”
Cooper nodded, “Understood. Let me thank you for having such an orderly town, Sheriff.” He heard the nearly inaudible choke from Dranko on his left.
They hefted the bags of salt and exited the market, showing their receipt to the door guards on their way out. When they were out of earshot, Dranko asked.
“CJ? Where’d you come up with that?”
“My middle name is James. So, it was true, but also not flatly telling him I’m Cooper Adams!”
Dranko laughed, “Nice!”
They deposited the heavy bags of salt into the Jeep’s cargo area and pulled out of the parking lot.
The loud rasp from Buck Floy’s snoring in the back seat competed with the engine’s growl as they drove back towards the Stott’s.
“How’d you have silver on hand?” Cooper asked Dranko as they rumbled down the road.
A wide grin crossed Dranko’s face, “That’s easy. If you think things might come unglued at some point, you gotta prepare that the currency won’t work anymore.”
“Were you betting against America, you SOB?” He was only half joking.
Dranko gave him a sharp smirk, “Nope. Just betting on probabilities. I knew something was going to happen that would upend things. Gold and silver are hard currencies. They outlast paper money every time.”
“I was just thinking about that yesterday,” Angela joined the conversation.
“What,” Cooper asked.
“My 401k. I spent so much energy and worry building that thing up. Now, I wonder if it’s worth a penny.”
Dranko burst out laughing. Angela punched him in the shoulder from the backseat.
“Don’t be an ass!”
He fought to restrain himself, “I’m sorry.” He regained his breath, “I just always said that they shouldn’t have been called 401k’s.” He paused.
“What should they have been called?” Angela asked, exasperated.
“401Cs. For 401 Craps. It was gambling pure and simple and you were destined to come up a loser. Even without the Brushfire Plague, it was a rigged system from jump street.”
Angela’s face drooped, the corners of her mouth downturned, “I guess you were right.”
“So, E. F. Hutton, what was your investment strategy?”
Dranko inclined his head towards Cooper, “That was easy. The four B’s. Beans, bullets, band aids, and bullion.” The mock smug look and tone as he delivered his response made Cooper and Angela laugh and slap him on the shoulder.
They drove the rest of the way in silence, made it up the long driveway to the Stott’s, and manhandled Buck Floy into the kitchen.
Chapter Nine
They gathered around the kitchen table. Cooper and Dranko relayed how they had bargained for the salt and of their conversation with Hodges about the levy. As they talked, Miles’ face flushed until he exploded.
“He’s pushing way too hard! People can’t take it,” he fumed.
“Is he overplaying his hand?” Cooper queried.
“Damn straight.”
“He ain’t so bad. Just trying to keep things safe,” Bethany offered in a soothing tone.
Miles spun around and glared at her, “And, getting rich in the process!” He stormed past her and the door banged as he went outside. Cooper and Dranko exchanged a look and Cooper followed him out.
He found him twenty yards away from the front door, near the garden. A cigarette puffed from his lips, angry smoke blowing outward.
“You alright?” Cooper asked.
“I’m tired of her defending the Hodges.”
Cooper grunted in agreement, allowing him the space to continue.