Page 56 of Brighton

DOWN-HOME GOOD PEOPLE

ELIAS

The next morning, Bright takes off for her private client east of town about whom she’s said very little. I spend my time digging deeper into the issues that Reyes and the Judge will face in their reelection bids.

Reyes’ competition is stiff and, from the looks of it, well-funded in the extreme. Our old country county where a handshake is a contract and your word is your bond is all of a sudden seeing billboards on the highway and candidates hosting dinners to discuss challenges in the precinct. There’s another one tomorrow night, and I toy with going.

Early September means we’re less than two months from election day. Eight or nine weeks to protect Reyes’ seat and find a new judge. And it’s really just about this one issue, this one issue that few in town and even fewer in the county know about, but one that has immediate and personal impact to every resident.

Me: Can we meet for lunch?

Kimp: Sure. Everything okay?

Me: Yeah. Would noon at the Junction Diner work for you?

Kimp: Sure thing. Need anything else.

Me: Yeah. Can you bring Colt with you?

Kimp: You’re up to something.

Me: Yes, sir.

Kimp: We’ll be there.

I spend the next two hours seeing where the Judge’s weaknesses are and surveying the political landscape of the county.

When it comes down to it, Reyes is a fifty-fifty shot. His constituents love him. He represents them well. I don’t see him compromising his values, and his values mirror those in his precinct. The question is what would sway voters away from him. I’m hoping Kimp can answer that.

The Judge, on the other hand, is a true politician. He promises everyone exactly what they want to hear, always hedging. He’s financially solid, and fool that he is, he thinks his reelection is a shoo-in. That arrogance could work in our favor if he believes his own press.

Unlike most Commissioners, the power in the Judge’s position is considerable. It’s a stepping stone for higher level offices. Either way, it is the final say at the county level and holds its own prestige.

Because of that, the weight of public endorsements is huge and how the campaign is funded matters only to those whose livelihoods depend on the integrity of the winner and the ethics of the office. People like Kimp… and ranches like the Rangers’.

Lunch goes exactly as I’d hoped it would.

That is to say that we are constantly interrupted by people to say hi to Kimp, asking him about his kids, waving and speaking to Colt. It’s the opposite of the keep a low-profile strategy that Jon suggested. But it’s strategic nonetheless.

Kimpton Ranger isn’t old money or new money. He doesn’t do flashy. He doesn’t show off his wealth. He drives a three-quarter-ton truck that’s out of warranty, most of the time with the windows rolled down, and more often than he should, leaves the keys in the ignition. He’s down-home good people. He’s fried chicken and chunky mashed potatoes, and I want everyone to see that… to see him, and his son’s son, eating local, supporting local, in the community.

He is a fifth generation Texan, and his family has been on what is the Ranger’s ranch for nearly all that time. He was a kid in this town, back before the national highways sliced through the land. He knows the people who run the Ace Hardware, the feed store, and the local businesses. He knew their parents; he’ll know their kids and grandkids.

“You going to tell me why we’re here?” Kimp queries as he dodges a pea Colt throws at him. His grandson wrestles and wiggles in his high chair and fights the baby seat belt that holds him in place.

He gums his food, when he’s not throwing it or smashing it under his fingers, and babbles throughout our time at the table in the center of the diner.

“Two reasons, aside from enjoying your company.” I pause as the waitress refills our drinks and removes our plates from the table. “One—if it comes down to it and things go public—I want the people to know who they’re voting for or against when it comes to property development. If we need allies, you’ll have them, no doubt, but I want it fresh in their minds. And two…” I chew the inside of my lip. “I’m not convinced there isn’t something personal with the land or with you that propels the construction.”

“What are you on about?”

“I wonder if any of this could be personal. I’m flushing that out, if you will. I want to see if we get a reaction, if there’s movement or heightened response with a more public presence.”

“So, you’re playing chicken with my home and business?”

“I’m getting all the cards on the table, so we know what hand we’ve been dealt.”

“Hell of a risk, Elias.”

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