Almost Thirty years later…
Headlights burned through the patchy morning fog as the forest green 4x4 drove into town. Soft rays of sun had barely begun to crest the sharp peaks of the distant Cascade Mountains. The light was dull, filtered by the scattered clouds and low lying fog, but the fluorescent gold star of the Sheriff’s department seemed to glow on the door of the vehicle as it slowed to residential speeds. Sheriff Jim Harper turned off the surface street and into the Lewis County Sheriff’s Department parking lot.
It was the first day of yet another year’s spring. He smiled as he thought of it—another year. He had been Sheriff for almost three decades now. This coming November he expected to be re-elected, making him the longest running public servant in Lewis County history! He knew everyone, and everyone knew him. Almost his entire life had been spent trying to improve this community—his community. At least, that was the way he had come to think of it. This was his community and his people. He watched over and protected them, doing everything he could to make life better, whether it was his job or not.
Sheriff Harper slowed his Chevy Blazer to a stop in front of the station next to several identical vehicles. But then, what wasn’t his job? Over the years he had taken on more work for himself and the Department, just so he could have the staff necessary to do a decent job.
The County Council was constantly frustrated with him, and this year was no different than any other. They wanted to cut his budget, and, as usual, he was fighting them over it. Why couldn’t those over paid, uncreative pucks be more useful, he thought.
He loved irritating them, though. The solution he came up with for last year’s budget shortfall still gave him a kick. The Council’s idea was for the Department to lay off two deputies, and sell three patrol vehicles. That was the standard solution Jim had come to expect from these over educated bookworms.
Harper had come up with a better solution. He arranged for both the high school and vo-tec automotive training courses to be combined. Then he scheduled all County vehicles to have their maintenance done at this new facility. By consolidating, the training center could now handle more students at a lower cost, and because the students weren’t employees the County benefited from not paying wages or benefits. Jim was also able to arrange for the local parts dealer to supply the training facility at wholesale prices rather than retail. This program saved the County a bundle.
The Council was really frosted when it was proposed. Both the County Executive and Treasurer swore there had to be something illegal about the plan and tried to prove it, but in the end, it met the requirements of the law and they had to accept it. Every year the Council received criticism and jeers from the community for a budget that would “have to be fixed by the Sheriff”.
That was the best part, Jim thought. The Executive and Treasurer had Masters Degrees from Ivy League schools, and the inflated egos to prove it. Jim loved the way they got all burned up when he proposed a solution to a problem then add, “Not bad for a guy with only a high school diploma from a back water school, Eh?”
He had spent the last two weeks pouring over every budget of every County program in order to come up with a solution to this year’s problem. So far, he hadn’t a clue what it would be. He was, however, optimistic. He knew there was a solution and that he would eventually find it.
Sheriff Harper slowly opened the Blazer’s door then stepped out. He wore a tan long-sleeved shirt and matching pants― each neatly pressed. The black tie, black leather belt, and shiny black shoes complemented the otherwise bland attire. Standing out from the rest of the uniform, the well polished shiny gold star rested neatly upon his shirt just above the left pocket.
Although he’d been wearing the uniform for decades, it now felt somewhat new to him. When he had first started out, he wore the full uniform vigilantly. But over the years, he had changed it a little at a time. First, he stopped wearing the tie. Then, he put on a few pounds, and the belt went out a notch, then another. Later, the dress shoes were replaced with tennis shoes. He was the Sheriff of a sleepy town― he hadn’t grown lazy, just comfortable.
As of a few months ago, it was back to the full uniform. That was Nikki’s influence. She had once commented that men in uniform were irresistible. The next day every scuff was polished, every line pressed, and every detail perfect. It made him feel like he was in the Army again― a reference he didn’t care to make― but if Nikki liked it, he was all too willing to please.
As he stood by his patrol vehicle, Sheriff Harper slowly looked around at the dark low lying clouds. It is a bit cool this morning, he thought to himself as a shiver crawled up his spine. Of course it would be. After all, winter had just ended and the frequent rains were still common place. Well, at least the afternoon might be nice, he hoped. The past few days it had gotten all the way up into the sixty’s, just enough to start drying things out before the rain clouds rolled in by evening.
Turning around, Harper reached into the Blazer, pulled a forest green jacket out, and put it on. It also had the gold Sheriff’s Department star on the left breast. He then stretched across to the passenger side and grabbed his off-white Stetson. Placing it on his head, he gently pulled it down over his slightly gray, but otherwise dark, hair. Again, reaching into the cab, he pulled out a large bundle of business sized envelopes. Tucking them under his arm, he closed the door.
Taking another look around, he glanced down at the black top under his feet. The pavement covered the ground in front of the building, to each side of it, and then to the street. It looked good.
It’s about time the County paved this lot, he thought. Well, at least part of it. Too bad they wouldn’t do the whole thing. With the other vehicles in the way, I can barely get my Blazer turned around, he thought as his eyes moved from the asphalt to the gravel.
The gravel stretched from the street along the left side of the building and around to the back. It also covered the walking path to their outdoor shooting range. Well at least its new gravel, he chuckled to himself. It is truly a shame I can’t tell anybody how we really got it. Turning around, he stepped onto the sidewalk and made his way along the front of the red brick building towards the door.
Nearing the entrance, he stopped and looked at the sign carefully: Lewis County Sheriff’s Station, Centralia Washington. It was a bit faded, he frowned. Tomorrow, I’ll pick up some paint and touch it up, he decided continuing on through the glass double doors.
To his right, there was a stairway leading down below. Next came the restrooms, and then the conference room. Straight in front of him, at the end of the hallway, the back doors led to the shooting range. The left side of the hallway opened up into office space. Separating the hall from eight desks was a long counter. A half dozen or so Deputies milled around in their normal morning routine.
“Good morning, Conley,” Sheriff Harper smiled as he walked past the dispatch table immediately behind the counter.
“Good morning, Sheriff,” Deputy Conley nodded and returned the smile.
“Anything happening out there this morning?”
That brought a smile to the young deputy’s face. “No sir, everything’s quiet as usual. Just the way you like it.”
“That’s the problem with this place,” Deputy Thomas Milhouse growled from the desk directly behind the dispatcher. “There is never anything going on. The most excitement we get is when there’s a fight to break up at the bar on Saturday night.”
“What more do you want, Milhouse?” Sheriff Harper wanted to know.
“I don’t know, maybe a bank robbery or a car chase,” the tall young deputy answered.
Deputy Rissley, the young woman at the desk next to Milhouse, responded with a short laugh. “You’re not supposed to wish for crime, Tom.”
“I don’t wish for it,” he countered. “It’s just that there should be more to this job than paperwork.”
“I have been saying that for years,” Harper consoled,
as he patted Milhouse on the back. “Unfortunately, it’s gotten worse and not better.”
He continued on to the back of the room to his office. The front of it was almost entirely made of glass. Letters printed on the glass door read: Sheriff James Harper. He reached for the handle and walked in. Pulling the mail from under his arm, Harper tossed it on the desk in the middle of the small room, then walked to the corner coat rack to hang up his jacket and hat.
Glancing out the window he sighed. It was 6 am, Monday morning― the beginning of another week. Five more days of… Harper looked at the stack on his desk, paperwork. Slowly reaching for his chair, he sat down and stared at the pile. I’ll start with the mail, he thought as he reached for it and began thumbing through.
What’s this? Jim lifted a curious eyebrow. It was a letter from the Portland City Police Department. Jim removed it from the pile to examine the envelope more closely. It was addressed to Thomas Milhouse c/o The Lewis County Sheriff’s Department. Wondering what it was all about, Jim stood up, grabbed his coffee cup, and walked out of the office with the letter in his hand.
Actually, he wasn’t too surprised. You should have seen this one coming, he told himself. Since Thomas Milhouse was a kid, everyone knew him as a thrill seeker. He raced motor cross dirt bikes, stock cars, and went bungee jumping. Life as a small town deputy had only made him grumpy.
As Harper walked towards the coffee pot, he stopped at Milhouse’s desk and handed the letter to him. “I believe this is for you.”
Milhouse’s eyes widened with excitement at the envelope, then became apologetic. “I’m sorry, Sheriff. This was supposed to come to my house.”
“That’s all right, Tom. Why didn’t you tell me you were looking for a transfer?” Jim reached for the coffee pot.
“I don’t know. I guess I didn’t want you to think I was deserting you,” Tom answered. The other deputies started to come over from their desks and encircle Milhouse.
“Well, aren’t you going to open it?” Deputy Rissley pried.
“It’s none of our business, Rissley,” Jim remarked. “He probably wants to wait and open it at home with Peggy.”
“That’s alright, Sheriff. I don’t think I can wait that long,” Tom offered as he fumbled with the envelope like a child opening a present. Pulling the letter out, Milhouse’s eyes scanned the page while the others waited in silence. It was all too obvious to everyone what it said as they watched him slowly lower the letter to the desk and stare at it in disappointment.
“I’m sorry, Tom,” Deputy Rissley consoled as the other deputies went back to what they were doing. “I know how anxious you and Peg are to get out of here.”
“Why do you want to go to the city anyway?” Harper questioned.
“Peg wants to be closer to the theater. She has always been good at acting and wants to give it a shot before we start a family,” Tom frowned then tilted his head slightly as he thought of his own reasons. “As for myself, I can’t help but feel my career is at a stand still. I need a change. Something with a little more excitement. If I don’t kick this small town dust off my feet soon, I think I’ll bust!”
“Have you tried the Seattle PD?” Harper suggested.
“Uh-huh, but I got the standard form letter from them as well. Thank you for your interest but we’re just not hiring. Blah, blah, blah…”
“Tell you what. Later on this week, when we’ve got a few hours to spare, we can sit down and write you a letter of recommendation.” Jim offered.
That brought a smile to Milhouse’s face. “Thanks Sheriff. I sure appreciate the help.”
Jim nodded and smiled. Grabbing his coffee cup, he headed back to his desk. He couldn’t help but be disappointed. He had spent a lot of time with Milhouse and Jim hoped that someday Tom would take over as Sheriff when he retired.
He had tried to get Milhouse interested in the business of running the County, but although he always listened, Jim could tell Tom’s mind and heart were somewhere else. So much for wishful thinking, he thought sadly as he sat down to the paper work on his desk. He shook his head. Like everyone else, Harper hated paperwork and sometimes wished things weren’t so hum drum boring. He didn’t realize how quickly that would change.