Novel
Another dead-end assignment! Arlene's pencil slashed across the copy article in her hand. How many times could she write about the Women’s Club’s latest accomplishments? Seven years. Seven years at the Sunny Hills Gazette and the best they can give me is another boring chat with the Women's Club. Fuming, Arlene dropped the pad on her desk and leaned back in her chair.
Blank walls stared back at her. Not a picture, just one small window staring out at the five and dime. She shook her head and sighed with frustration. When did I settle for being a slave to the ‘safe’ job? What happened to all those dreams of glory, making a difference, being a headliner?
While she was grateful for the job, and loved her work, she longed for assignments with more depth. She'd had a brief moment of glory when she had the opportunity to interview the mayor once. Instead she'd wondered aloud at how hideous his toupee was. Needless to say the mayor wasn't taking interviews with her any more.
“Let’s face it,” she grumbled aloud. “This is a small town with small problems.” Ergo, the Women’s Club is the highlight of my week.
She hadn’t meant to stay this long. Then why don't I just leave? Arlene sighed. She didn't like to admit the answer, even to herself. Lance. C'mon get over it. Leave this one horse town and Sheriff Lance Carter behind. All I’m gonna get here is a lifetime’s worth of regrets.
A knock on her office door brought her back to her monotonous present.
“Busy?” Jack Stewart asked, poking his head into her office. He flashed a smile that made women melt.
Jack was a knockout and he knew it, with his dark hair and gorgeous hazel eyes. Gratefully, Arlene was immune to his charms. After all he was a fellow reporter and sometimes a friend.
“What’s up?” she asked, rolling a pencil between her palms.
“I thought I heard you talking to somebody, but I don’t see anybody else in here with you. What are you raging about now?”
“Stewart, I don’t know why we have Henrietta Winston doing the gossip column when we have you.” She chuckled.
“Anyway, why did you say you came in?”
“I didn’t.” He grinned and leaned in the doorway. “How about dinner tonight?”
“I can’t, but thanks for the offer. I’m just going to curl up with a good book and stuff my face with popcorn.”
He grinned and winked. “That book won’t keep you warm on a cold winter night.”
“Thanks for your concern, but I have an electric blanket.”
Jack uncrossed his arms and heaved himself away from the door jam with a sigh. “I have to go prepare for my meeting with the mayor...”
Her phone rang and Arlene put her hand up motioning for him to wait then hit the speaker button.
“Stewart in there with you?” Came the disembodied voice of their editor.
“Yes, he is.”
“I figured as much when he didn’t answer his phone. I want you and Stewart in here pronto.”
Jack raised an eyebrow in Arlene’s direction. “It must be something big if he wants to see us both.”
“We'll be right over, Tom.” She disconnected the call and got to her feet. “We’ll soon find out.”
“Hey, Boss”, Arlene said, as they entered Tom Solana's office. “You wanted to see us?”
“Yeah.” He motioned for them to take a seat. “There's been a robbery at the Corner Market. Esther put the call through and then she let me know. I need one of you over there right now.”
“No can do, boss,” Jack said with a shrug. “I’ve got a meeting with the mayor in less than an hour.”
“That leaves you, Arlene”
“Sure, no problem.” Arlene tried to look nonchalant. “Lance won't be happy at all with this. We haven’t had a robbery in what? Ten years? He prides himself on having the safest town in the state. Whoever is responsible is going to be very sorry they crossed him.”
Tom got to his feet and ran a hand through his salt and pepper hair. “Okay. That's all. Arlene, I suggest you leave now.”
Jack followed Arlene into the hall, closed the door and fell in step with her as she marched toward her office.
“I thought you were leaving?” she said with a frown.
“Yeah, I am. I wanted to know if you wanted to switch places. You know, you go the meeting with the mayor and--” “I don’t think so, Jack. You know how the mayor feels about me. I’m worse than eating spinach. Sorry. This is my story. It sure beats anything I’ve had for ages.”
“Ah, well. You can't blame a guy for trying.” He glanced at his watch. “I'd better get going. You want a lift?”
“Nice try, Jack.” She grinned as she slid into her office. “I can drive.”
~
The siren on the police cruiser droned into silence as Sheriff Lance Carter stepped out in front of the Corner Market. The old-timers seated on the bench in front of the barbershop across the street watched with interest, but no genuine concern. The owner of the small grocery store, Joe Monroe, nodded a greeting.
“Hey Joe, what's the problem?”
“Come see for yourself, Sheriff.”
Lance followed the older man past the checkout counter, and to the right, stopping short as he entered the produce section. Henrietta Winston, all of ninety-five pounds soaking wet, sat astride a teenage boy, arms folded across her chest and bright eyes blazing.
Lance cleared his throat to avoid laughing, and brushed his black hair back from his forehead. “Just what seems to be the problem here, Miss Winston?”
“This young hooligan tried to steal my purse so I tackled him.”
“That's pretty drastic action there, don't you think? Why didn't you call Joe?”
Henrietta raised her chin defiantly and jabbed her knees into the boy's ribs. “By the time Joe got here this kid would have been half way down the street. Now, what are you going to do about this criminal?”
The teenager twisted to look up at Lance, his brown eyes pleading. “Dang, Sheriff, please. Get her off. She's about to kill me.”
“You are lucky I don't do worse than that to you, you little delinquent.” She thumped him across the back of the head with her hand and his face bumped the floor, curly black hair spilling around his reddening face. “I don’t know what’s wrong with kids these days.”
Lance held out his hand. “Okay, I'll take it from here. Let him up, Miss Winston.”
A familiar voice called from the doorway, and Lance gritted his teeth and grimaced at the sound. “Dang it, not Arlene.”
“Oh, come on, Lance. You knew she’d show up.” Joe grinned.
“Frankly, I was hoping they’d send Jack Stewart.”
“Yeah, but admit it, you would have been disappointed.” Joe waggled his eyebrows and headed for the door.
Lance didn’t answer. He was too busy watching Arlene as she walked toward him.
“Hi, Joe, I heard there was a robbery? You okay?”
“Police business, Arlene. You should probably wait outside.” Lance caught the teenager by the arm and hauled him to his feet.
“Power of the press, Sheriff.” Arlene smiled and brushed past him, her notepad already in hand. “So what’s going on?” Her bright eyes flicked from Miss Winston to the teenager and back to Lance. “You involved in this too, Miss Winston?”
Henrietta harrumphed, eyes narrowed as she stared at the teenager in the Sheriff’s grasp.
Lance cleared his throat. “Nothing major. This young man got caught purse snatching is all. Not smart, young fella. Not in my town.”
“Aw, c’mon Lance, he’s no worse than you were at his age,” Joe said with a laugh.
“Would you mind answering a few questions?” Arlene intercepted the kid as Lance tried to hustle him out the door. “Why did you do it?”
He hung his head and looked nervously at Lance. “I just needed some money. Look, I’m sorry, lady. I just got here and I was hungry and... It doesn’t matter anyway. I got no place else to go.”
Lance shook his head. This wasn’t a bad kid; something in his eyes spoke to Lance’s heart. Real troublemakers just weren’t this repentant.
“What’s your name, son?”
“Gary. Gary Jones.”
“How old are you, Gary? Why aren’t you in school?”
“I’m...I’ll be eighteen next month. And I’ve never been in trouble before, Sheriff, if that’s what you’re looking to find out. I just...aw, forget it.”
“Well, Sheriff, what are you planning to do about this?” Miss Winston snapped. “It’s a shame when a body can’t even go to the store without havin’ her purse stolen.”
“Look, Miss Winston, Gary here didn’t actually take anything and since…”
Miss Winston put her hand up. “It doesn’t matter, he still stole my purse. He needs to be punished. Maybe a stay in jail will teach this young fellow a lesson.”
“Are you saying you want to file charges?”
Miss Winston glanced at Gary, standing meekly at Lance’s side, staring glumly at his feet. “I suppose not.”
Gary’s head shot up, eyes widening. “Oh, thank you, Ma’am.”
“Just a second, young man,” Miss Winston’s eyes narrowed and she closed her hand firmly on her purse. “I’m not done yet. He still needs to learn his lesson, Sheriff. Maybe he ought to do some type of community service.”
Lance ran his hand across his jaw. “The mayor has been wanting someone to clean up the debris in the park. Cheap as he is, he’ll be glad to get it done for free. Would that be okay with you, Miss Winston?”
Miss Winston nodded. “You see that he does the job properly, Sheriff. I’ll be on my way.” She snatched up a small shopping bag from the counter, stopped and pointed a waggling finger at Gary. “I’ll be watching you, young man. If I catch you even looking the wrong way, your butt will be in jail.” She turned to Arlene. “I’ll see you in the office.”
Tossing her head, she marched from the store.
Joe closed the door behind her, squinted across at Arlene and rubbed the bridge of his nose as he trundled over to Lance and the boy. “Y’know, Miss Henrietta’s right. I don’t move as fast as I used to before my knee gave out. And there’s some heavy lifting to be done around here, y’know, unpacking crates and all. I could use some help here in the store. Course I can’t really afford to pay, but I have an empty room in the back...” He raised his eyebrows and waited for Gary to reply.
“Really?” the boy asked incredulously. “Would you let me do that? I won’t be any trouble, I swear.” Gary shot an apprehensive look at Lance, his eyes wide. “I mean, if it’s all right. Am I free to go, Sheriff?”
“Well, I dunno.” Lance stared at Gary and rubbed his chin. “That was attempted robbery, that’s pretty serious.”
Arlene nudged Lance’s arm, a smile plucking at her lips. “Quit teasing him, Lance. The poor kid’s scared to death.”
Lance glanced down at her. Dang, she was pretty when she dropped the just-the-facts reporter act and smiled like that. He shook his head, and forced his attention back to Gary. “Well, all right. You report over to my office tomorrow, we’ll get you started on the park detail. But if I ever catch you doing something like this again; your hide will be in jail, young man,” Lance warned, poking his finger at Gary’s chest. “Understand?”
“Yes sir.” Gary turned to Joe. “When do you want me to start, Mr. Monroe?”
Joe winked at Lance and motioned to the display of tuna scattered across the floor. “You can start right now. Let’s clear up this mess you and Miss Henrietta made, and then we’ll see about getting you some lunch.”
“You know,” Arlene stepped closer to Lance, until her shoulder brushed his and he could smell the soft honeysuckle fragrance of her hair. She glanced over at Gary busily stacking the cans of tuna, then her eyes met Lance’s. “Ellie over to the diner has an opening for a bus boy. It wouldn’t pay much.” She dropped her voice to a whisper and Lance leaned down to hear her. “But I know she usually throws in free meals.” Her eyebrows lifted, eyes wide as she nodded toward Gary with a knowing smile.
Lance pushed his hair back with one hand. Arlene never ceased to amaze him. With a chuckle he nodded. “I’ll go on over and see to it. Kid’s gotta eat.”
~
“Hey, buddy, time to get off. This is the Sunny Hills stop.”
The sound of the voice and a hand on his shoulder roused Kent Jordan from sleep. He scrubbed his hand across his face trying to get his bearings. Where was he? For a split second he didn’t remember how he’d got here. He glanced around hurriedly, but it wasn’t the prison work-crew bus. It all came back to him. He stood, stretched weary muscles, grabbed what few possessions he had and shoved an unlit cigarette in his mouth as he rose.
Making his way to the front of the bus he stopped short, staring out at the small, rural bus station and the narrow road with its overhanging canopy of trees. What was he doing back here? Hadn’t this already cost him enough? Is it worth it, he wondered?
“Hey Buddy,” the short, scrawny driver asked. “Is there a problem?”
“Nope.” Kent nodded and hefted his bag. “Not a one.”
He had come to do a job and that’s just what he would do. Once he set his plan into action there would be no going back. He knew who he needed to find. Just one person was responsible for him being in that hellhole. If all went well he’d be in and out and no one would be the wiser.
Stepping down to the gravel parking lot, Kent dropped his bag to the ground and ran his hand over the bulge beneath his jean pant leg. Nobody but him would know he had the revolver taped where he could get it when the time came.
For now, he needed a car. That would be his next step. He knew how to get one. And then maybe tonight I’ll stop by The Fin and Claw and find myself a drink and a woman. He’d gone too damn long without either one.
|