9:17 AM

16
9:17 AM

     Deputy Powell was sitting in the chair waiting for the Sheriff for more than forty-five minutes. Every time he heard a noise, he got up, and then sat back down.
     "If he's going to yell at you, he's going to yell at you."
     "I was sick."
     "I'm sure you were, but you well enough to be here right now, I suppose."
     "Barely."
     He slumped back in the chair.
     There was a rattling of the door, and then it opened. In walked not the Sheriff but Trudy, the late doctor's secretary.
     "Yes, ma'am. What can I do for you?"
     "Hi. I'm here to see the Sheriff. Is he in?"
     "I'm afraid he isn't, but I'm a Sheriff's Deputy. Can you speak to me?"
     She sighed. "I suppose so. I found that address he was looking for. The girl saw that man who was outside the practice for a couple weeks."
     "I'll be very interested in that. Thank you."
     He looked at it.
     "Now, where in the heck is this?"
     He showed it to Margaret.
     "Wow. That's way outside of town."
     Margaret showed him on the map where that was. To say it was on the wrong side of the tracks didn't do it justice. It was on the bombed out side of the county.
     Deputy Powell swallowed.
     "Well, what are you waiting for, Deputy. Got to follow those leads, don't you?"
     "Yes, ma'am."
     He slunk off towards the parking lot, looking back to see if Margaret was going to make him. Well, goddamn if she had to, well then she would!