Murder on the Mainline: another Mike Claymore Mystery Chapter 21 - Sex Stories

Murder on the Mainline: another Mike Claymore Mystery Chapter 21

... ribbons. He's not sure which but he can tell from the smell in the air what is wrong and even spots some chunks of black rubber on the highway behind him. On inspection he finds it's the front passenger side inside tire. Shreds of hot rubber hang from the tire. Trudy is looking over his shoulder as he dials his cell phone. He listens and wait’s then punches number one. Again he wait’s then hears, "Central Dispatch, its Steve." "Steve, It's Mike Claymore. I'm east of Kamloops about thirty miles and I've got a shredded inside dual on the trailer. I can make it back into Kamloops without doing much damage to the rim and get a tire in the morning. Want to give me a P.O. number?" "How far are you from Sicamous. Never mind, I've found you on the map. Can you nurse it on in to Sicamous?" "Yeah, but that rim will be shot." "Do that then. Your second load hasn't left Calgary yet so I'll have them bring a tire when they come to Sicamous to pick that one up." "Shit! That will take me half the night with this thing." "It's not that far to Sicamous." "Your sitting in Toronto! Have you ever been to British Columbia? I'm driving at night over winding highways, up and down through the mountains. I'll be lucky to get there before he does with the tire. Why not save the rim?" "Company policy, Mike. We don't buy a tire from a dealer when we have tires sitting in our shops. Sorry, Mike. Get her though to Sicamous." Mike punches 'end' in disgust. "You heard the man. We go for Sicamous." Trudy ...

... looks at him and says, "But we've got a flat. Do you have to change it? Where's your spare?" "We drive on it. Damn! I'll have to take it real easy. Those other three look to be in good shape. We'll make it." "At least you've got seventeen more." She giggles as Mike swears again and they climb back up into the cab. Mike releases the brakes with a hiss and the rig rolls ahead then jerks as the clutch engages. Onto the highway, headlights bouncing then settling to illuminate the pavement, and with a series of roars he runs up through the gears as they pull away. He holds the speed down to fifteen or twenty clicks below the limit and asks Trudy to keep watch in the mirror on her side. "Can you wind down your window, too? It's warm tonight and I'll be able to hear any unusual noises, maybe." Occasionally he hears a thump or bang and sees a flicker of flying chunks of rubber in the tail light glow then gone. "Damn CPX and their retreads. Anything to save a buck." He grumbles as they move along side the road into Chase. He starts up the long hill to the lookout when Trudy yells over the sound of the engine and wind, "It's on fire. I can see smoke when you slowed for the hill. It's on fire!" "I hear you. Hang on." Mike swings across the other lane and into the lookout on number one overlooking the town of Chase. He brings the truck to a halt, noticing in the far mirror the single tire left of that set of duals locked and sliding. "Over heated and damn brake seized,” he shouts in the ...