\"Right Call\" by Kathy Herman (Fiction)
Description
Vocal Characteristics
Language
EnglishVoice Age
Young Adult (18-35)Accents
North American (General)Transcript
Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
Stedman Reeves leaned against a massive oak tree on the hazy hillside and looked out across Stanton Valley, painfully aware that if he went through with Grant wall skis deal, he would end up in ****. And if he didn't, his life would seem like ****. What kind of choice was that? He heard a twig crack behind him and let out a sigh of self loathing. Grant came and stood next to him. Not having second thoughts, are you? Look, if you just be patient, I could get the money. I need it now. I can't just scrape up that kind of cash overnight. Then you shouldn't play poker with the big boys. Grant locked gazes with him. I'm offering you a gift, man. If I were you, I'd take it some gift. Grant held a gun in each of his gloved hands. Pick one. You said you know how to shoot. Yeah. Targets and wild game. Stedman studied the pistols both Smith and Wesson's but couldn't bring himself to take either. I've never shot a person before. Pretend you're playing one of your video games. If you can hit a bull's eye, you can put a bullet through a guy's head. Here, hold these. Grant handed him the guns, then reached into his back pocket and took out a photograph. There's your target. Stedman looked into the eyes of a husky young man with sandy blond hair. Who is he? Name and address is on the back. Make it quick and clean. What do you do? Stiff you for money? His legs suddenly felt shaky. Did it matter what the guy did? How could he justify taking his life? It's none of your business. It might make it easier if I knew what he did. Grant Flick the picture with his finger. Never mind what he did. Your The one who owes me. Just make sure he's dead before you walk away. Which gun do you want to use? Their both stolen. The cops could never link either of them to you or me. Then I guess it doesn't matter. A murder weapons, a murder weapon. He handed the bulkier pistol back to grant. When you're done, wipe it clean and throw it in the pond at the park. Make sure no one sees you. That's all there is to it. That's it. If I do this, how Can I be sure we're even? I'll give you a notarized receipt for the 60 grand. Look, you owe me big time. Either pay me the money or do me the favor. Some favor. He rolled his head to one side and then the other, his heart racing like a runaway train. How could he refuse? $60,000? Might as well be a 1,000,000. Unless you make this right, Grant said. I'll make sure you never get a seat at a high stakes poker table again. You're finished. Can't you cut me some slack? Just this once? You know I'm good for the money. I need a little time, that's all. Grant shoved him with both hands. You're on a losing streak, and I don't have forever. I told you what you could do to satisfy the debt. Take it or leave it, Stedman. Exhale the words. I'll take it. The voice was his but seemed to come from someone else. Was he really willing to murder a man in cold blood just so he could keep on gambling? An image of his grandmother's scowling countenance was branded into his conscience. No way could he go to her and beg for another loan, Not after he stole from her. Not after he promised to stop gambling. He had to handle this on his own. Once is luck returned. He would never get into this kind of trouble again. He'd make sure of that. Are you just going to stand there? Grant said. No, I'm going. Stedman clutched the gun tightly, and it shook in his hand. Good, you've got until midnight. If you involved me in any way, I will come after you. Don't threaten me, Grant. I'm not the enemy. Let's make sure we keep it that way. Call me when it's done. Just say I ordered the pizza and hang up. Don't say anything else, and we're never to speak of this to anyone under any circumstances. Walk away and forget it. So that was it. Just kill the guy, Pitched the gun and get back to playing cards. He studied grants, cold gray eyes and stony expression. How many times had he sat across the poker table from this guy searching his face for any hint of the cards he held yet missing the evil motives crouching in his heart? What do you staring at? Grant said nothing. He turned to go, and Grant grabbed his shirt. Listen to me. If it makes any difference, there's a greater good at stake here. Like what? Like the person who will be hurt the most, deserves it, and more. You'll be doing a lot of people a huge favor. What about the poor sucker? I'm about to put a bullet in. Do it right, and he won't know what hit him for once his old man will be powerless. Be sure to follow the story on the news. It's going to be sweet. I'm going to kill somebody's kid. Stedman turned his back on Grant and trudge down the hill toward his pick up his boots, feeling as if they were made of lead. Had he actually agreed to do the unthinkable just so he could stay in the game, Father David's words came rushing back to him. Your gambling's and addiction son get help before they own you. He kicked a rock and sent it sailing. Too late for that