Knocking? What’s that knocking? Jim pulled himself slowly into consciousness.
“Sheriff, is everything all right?” a voice called from the doorway. Jim lifted his head from his desk and rubbed his eyes. As his eyes came into focus, he saw Deputy Peterson standing at the conference room door knocking on the jam.
“Yeah, everything’s fine, Peterson.” Jim grabbed the half-full coffee cup and took a drink. Yuck! Cold coffee is the worst! he thought.
“I have a message here from Rissley. She’s been calling you on the radio all morning and you haven’t answered. She said you wanted to get an early start,” Deputy Peterson reported.
Jim hadn’t heard it. He’d been too tired and slept through any radio calls. He was on his second day with little sleep, and that wasn’t working in his favor. Finally, he realized how bright it was outside. “Damn! What time is it?” He stood up with his cup and walked out of the room towards the pot.
“It’s just past eight,” Peterson replied.
“Where the heck’s Milhouse? He was supposed to be here at six!” Jim said angrily as he filled his cup with coffee.
At that instant, the front door swung open and Milhouse rushed in. “Sorry, Sheriff. I over slept and traffic sucks!”
“Get the metal detectors out of the storage room then come back in here,” Jim ordered.
Milhouse quickly rushed towards the basement. Jim grabbed his cup and took a drink as he walked to the men’s room. After washing his face, he pulled some paper towels from the dispenser and wiped himself off. He then looked into the mirror and examined himself closely.
You’ve looked better, he told himself as he noticed the dark circles under his sunken eyes. The stubble on his face felt like sand paper. He could feel the acidic coffee burning in his empty stomach, but knew he couldn’t bring himself to eat another stale doughnut. He was glad Joe had packed him some fruit.
Milhouse was waiting for him as he walked out of the bathroom. “Are you all right, Sheriff?” Milhouse asked.
“I’ll be all right, once I get moving,” he replied. I must’ve dosed off while studying the photos.”
Milhouse looked at him oddly. “If you don’t mind me asking, Sheriff, isn’t that a waste of time? I mean, we’ve got the fingerprints of the shooter. It should only take a few days at the most to match them, and then we’ll have our killer.”
“Fingerprints?” Jim said as he leaned his tired body against the counter. “Oh yeah, that’s right. Unfortunately, the State isn’t very efficient. It could take weeks, even months, for them to get us an answer.” That was something Jim had been counting on.
“Didn’t Agent Bradley tell you?” Milhouse asked, curiously.
“Tell me what?”
“Well, when he was here last night, I gave him a copy of the prints. He said the Federal computer banks could match them in a day or so.”
Jim’s face turned white at the news.
“Sheriff, are you all right?”
“Yeah, it must be the lack of sleep,” Jim replied, trying to cover his shock. “Is there anything else you forgot to tell me?” he said with a glare.
Milhouse immediately realized that Agent Bradley didn’t tell Harper about the help Milhouse had given him. He saw the look on Jim’s face and decided to keep his mouth shut. “Ah… no, that’s it. That was all right, wasn’t it? I mean, we’re all on the same side, right?”
“Yeah, it was. But from now on, run it past me first. Now get those things out to Buck’s and help Rissley. I’ll be right behind you in a few minutes, and I’ll brief you on the progress we made yesterday when I get out there. I think we may be able to find one of the bullets that killed Buck.”
“Really,” Milhouse said surprisingly. “That’s great! If the killer hasn’t gotten rid of the gun, then it’s an airtight case.”
“That’s right, now get moving.”
Milhouse turned and rushed down the hall.
Damn! Those fingerprints! he thought with disgust as he walked into the conference room. The clock was ticking faster than he’d expected. I had better get moving, he decided. Otherwise, things could fall apart around him and he wouldn’t be able to stop it.
Jim started to pile the photos in a stack, then stopped and looked at one of them closely. I can’t believe I didn’t see this earlier! he thought to himself. Jim looked through the pile and pulled out another picture of Buck.
There’s no way I could’ve killed Buck! Buck was lying on top of one of my tire tracks. If I had been there, I would have had to run him over to drive away. This proves that I had to have left before Buck was killed. Jim allowed himself a quick sigh of relief. Stuffing everything into the envelope, he hurried out of the room.
There was just one more thing he needed to do. Running out the back door, he hurried to the range and to the target that Bradley shot at. With his knife, he dug one of the bullets out and examined it. The soft wood hadn’t damaged it at all. It was in perfect shape. He put it in his pocket, then headed for the parking lot, when the radio on his belt squawked. “Sheriff Harper, come in Sheriff.”
“Go ahead, Peterson,” Jim answered.
Carrying the metal detectors, Milhouse walked towards his Blazer which was parked on the side of the building next to Deputy Kruger’s. He opened up the back and put them inside.
“Milhouse!” Kruger yelled from the street. Milhouse stopped and saw him dart through traffic, then hurried over to him with a big smile on his face carrying a large paper bag. “Check this out!” Kruger reached into the bag and pulled out a T-shirt. On the front was an artist’s rendition of two men in a boat fishing. “Look, it says, I saw Elvis and D.B. Cooper fishing at Mineral Lake, Washington.”
“That’s great!” Milhouse’s eyes lit up. “Where did you get it?”
“They’re selling these, and other really cool stuff, at the gas station. Two college students got the idea yesterday when the story broke and immediately got to work on it. They’re selling like hot cakes.” Kruger pulled another shirt out. “Here, look at this one.”
It was a picture of D.B. Cooper wearing sunglasses and hiding behind a tree. At the bottom it said. “Cooper lives! Catch him if you can!”
“Man! I’ve got to get me some of these!” Milhouse exclaimed.
“Milhouse!” came Harper’s voice from behind the station. “Hold on, I want to talk to you.” Both men turned to see Jim hurrying towards them.
“Quick, put those things away,” Milhouse ordered. Kruger stuffed the shirts back into the bag as they watched Harper run towards them.