Read Death Comes in the Morning Page 22


  Chapter 18

  My immediate need was food. The sustenance from the granola bar earlier in the afternoon had long since worn off. I hoped the diner was open. As I drove toward it, I saw bright lights still gleaming inside. The waitress Janice was there. Like Ranger Pine, a very long workday for her too. Most of her waking life must be spent in this building. No wonder her skin is smooth and unlined. It never saw the sun.

  I ordered a sandwich and pie to go. As I turned to leave, I nearly collided with Sheriff Tyler who just came through the door. Before I could apologize for my clumsiness, he spoke.

  “Mr. Parker,” he said with a warm wide grin, apparently having forgiven my recent bad behavior with his Deputy. And he showed no sign of having a new reason to be upset with me. That suggested Enid had not told him about my comment regarding bounty hunters. Of course, that was to be expected. If you’re getting income under the table, you don’t tell your boss.

  “How’s the hiking?” he asked.

  “Oh, fine, Sheriff. Just grabbing some dinner.”

  “Well, if you have the time, why not join me? I’d like the company.”

  His warm smile and the hint of pleading in his eyes compelled me to accept. In spite of my quips with Enid and my resistance to playing nicely, the Sheriff was still friendly toward me. Maybe he’s a really nice guy who just wants to get along with everybody, even pain-in-the-ass, city-folk tourists. It seemed like he wasn’t tough enough to be Sheriff. But then again, maybe his laid-back approach was all he needed for decades in this peaceful town. Maybe his style had worked because bad stuff just didn’t happen here.

  “Sure, Sheriff.”

  He steered us to a booth, and Janice appeared there in seconds.

  “Hi, Sheriff. You want the special?” she asked.

  “Sure, Janice. Thanks.”

  “And Mister Parker seems to already have his dinner,” she smiled. “Something to drink with that?”

  “Coffee, please.”

  “Comin’ right up.”

  “Well, Nathan Parker. Tell me about your hiking.”

  “I visited the ranger station today to get some maps and then was on Boulder Creek Trail. I wanted to finish Monarch Trail, but I saw it was closed. Are you still investigating it?” I asked.

  “Enid tells me he’s still looking into it.”

  “Excuse me for being blunt, Sheriff, but is there really any investigation going on? I get the feeling Enid prefers to follow me around, rather than look into anything.”

  “Well, he can be a bit over zealous. You have to realize that not much serious stuff happens around here. This is a small quiet town. So he gets a little excited when a stranger shows up and reports a body. I’m giving him a lot of leeway to pursue this to give him some experience. He’s a good deputy. No need to worry.”

  “Thanks for the reassurance, Sheriff,” I said, feeling not in the least reassured.

  “In fact, Enid has made progress on this. He told me that the Hispanic maid at the hotel reported her boyfriend was missing. The guy showed up at her door late this afternoon with a bandage on his head. Apparently, he looks a lot like the guy in your cell phone picture. Hurt himself in a fall. But now he seems to be doing fine.”

  During this discourse, Janice had appeared with our drinks. “I heard about that,” Janice said.

  We both looked up at her. The Sheriff seemed to have a glint of warmth in his eyes. I was simply surprised at what she said.

  “Enid stopped in here earlier. You know he can’t keep a secret.” She said that last to the Sheriff, her left hand resting gently on his shoulder. Then she went back toward the kitchen.

  The Sheriff showed no sign of concern that his Deputy had again told the world about an ongoing investigation. Rather, he seemed to be beaming from Janice’s touch on his shoulder.

  “That’s great news, Sheriff, about the Hispanic guy showing up.” I said it as convincingly as I could. But I knew the guy was dead. Enid had to be lying, lying to cover up his share of the bounty. Perhaps he convinced Cortina Perez to lie for him. If so, he was digging himself in deeper and deeper. But at least my opening line to talk to her had been placed in my lap.

  I decided to probe further. “Sheriff, did you see or talk to the guy or his girl friend?”

  “You really are a suspicious sort, aren’t you?”

  “Well, if the guy really did just show up, then I have to feel some responsibility for presuming he was dead. I should have called for medical assistance rather than reporting a body.” This was not my true motivation since I knew for sure the guy had been dead. I just wanted to know the truth of the reported return from the dead for the man.

  The Sheriff clearly wasn’t convinced with my attempt at sincere concern for the guy, but he didn’t press it. “Well, I didn’t need to talk to the guy or the girl friend. Enid handled it.”

  “Will you indulge me for one more suspicious question?”

  He sighed heavily. “You probably think we are just country hicks, you being a cop from a big city. Well, we aren’t as incompetent as you might think.”

  “I didn’t mean to imply…..”

  Interrupting me, he said, “Don’t worry about it. I think I know what you want to ask. So go ahead. What’s your question?”

  “Did Enid talk to either of them?”

  The Sheriff laughed. “You’re not only suspicious, you’re also predictably persistent.” He paused to consider, eyeing me intensely, but then relented. “OK. Enid found a note in the office. It was accurate on the details, very believable.”

  A note? That’s it? Of course it was accurate and believable to Enid. He wrote it. I wanted to press further. But that was clearly not going to lead anywhere. He was in the same frame of mind as Enid. Case closed.

  “Then that’s great news, Sheriff.”

  “I suppose he’s with her now.” He winked conspiratorially. “You know, that glad-you’re-back sex.”

  I nodded knowingly.

  Shifting subjects, the Sheriff said, “Enid tells me you’ve been spending a lot of time at the library.” He left it hanging there with an implied question of what was I doing.

  “Does everyone know what everyone does in this town?”

  “Not much goes on without someone seeing it. And then everyone else hears about it. Hard to keep a secret here. We just grow up accepting that. You might consider it as nosey. But a lot of it’s really about caring about your neighbors.”

  “I guess so,” I said. “Since it seems everyone will find out what I’m doing at the library anyway, I might as well start the gossip myself. At least then the first telling of it is the real story.”

  The Sheriff chuckled. “Perhaps a wise move. But I can’t guarantee the story won’t get twisted on the re-telling.”

  “Well, it’s not all that exciting. I am an ex-cop who likes to hike, and this is a good place for that. I also like to write, which is how I hope to make a living. So I’ve been spending time in your library doing research. Certainly glad your library is still open. Many others have closed in this recession.”

  “The town council did cut back the budget on the library, but we felt it was important to at least keep it open. It’s the only one in the area.”

  “Well, you’d never know there was a budget cut. It’s open every day and well maintained.”

  The Sheriff paused before answering, leaning forward for emphasis. “You can credit that to the librarian, Allison Wells. She does all the inside cleaning on her own time. And even took a pay cut. But she insisted on keeping the building open its normal hours. Quite a gal.”

  I nodded in understanding. Quite a gal, indeed. Neat, tidy, committed, and also selfless.

  “So, Mr. Parker, you’re writing a book about Willow Run?”

  “Willow Run might be part of it, but I don’t have a complete plot yet. Working on it. I’ve written some magazine articles before, but an entir
e novel is a lot more challenging.” I paused to consider that I had probably now opened the floodgates. “As this gossip spreads, I’ll probably get all kinds of plot and character ideas from everyone in town.”

  “Probably.” We both laughed at that.

  Janice brought the Sheriff’s plate out then. So the special for the Sheriff was pork chops, potato, green beans, and corn bread. It certainly looked better than my cold sandwich and pickle. But I also had pie. I smiled.

  “Sheriff, I’ll bring your warm apple pie when you’re ready,” Janice said, glancing pointedly at my fading smug expression.

  You win, I thought.

  As we ate dinner, we talked about Willow Run, the Sheriff growing up here, his 40 years wearing a badge, and how the economy was squeezing this small town. Even this isolated outpost had many ties to the rest of the country and the world. The area relied on ranching, agriculture, and tourism. All of these were suffering with the recession, and money from the state was drying up. With no work to be had, many of the young men had joined the military since at least that was a paying job. It was, of course, a dangerous career choice with the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, but it was steady income for their families back here.

  “My son Jason joined the army to see the world. They sent him to Afghanistan.” He stopped and looked down at his hands. When he raised his head, the glint of tears moistened the corners of his eyes and that far away look was back in his gaze. “They brought him home in a body bag.”

  “I’m so sorry, Sheriff. I didn’t know. That must have been awful.”

  He nodded, regaining his composure. “I was hoping he would stay here and become the fourth generation Willow Run Sheriff in the family.” He stopped talking, his face lost all expression, and he again had that distant gaze in his eyes, as though he was imagining better times. Then he quickly snapped out of it and returned to here and now.

  “So, Nathan Parker, tell me why are you an ex-cop?”

  I knew the Sheriff and Enid had checked on my history when I was a guest in their cell, but they might not have gotten all the details. They were probably just told that I previously worked for the force in Cincinnati, but may not have been told the reason for my departure.

  “It wasn’t my choice. They were making budget cuts. I was one of the newer guys. Not enough seniority. So I was cut. One hundred and thirty-eight of us were cut.” I recited that specific number from memory. That number was forever burned into my brain. It had been a big headline in the Cincinnati newspaper. I didn’t know what happened to the other 137 officers. Probably not all of them drifted west like me, but perhaps a few did. It was my turn to have a distant gaze in my eyes.

  “That must be tough, losing your job like that,” he offered.

  Then Janice appeared with the Sheriff’s large slab of warm pie. She beamed widely and placed it before him. “You want me to warm yours up, Mr. Parker?”

  I peered down at my much smaller slice and said, “No, thanks. I’ll be fine,” trying to convince myself.

  Lightly placing her hand on the Sheriff’s shoulder, she said, “Enjoy.” She placed our checks on the table and went back toward the kitchen.

  As if sensing I wanted to say something, he said, “Rank has its privilege,” as he forked a section of the steaming dessert into his mouth.

  We finished our desserts in relative quiet. After paying my tab, I stuffed the change in my shirt pocket. Then we went our separate ways.