The Sheriff

Nearly six months ago, as I cruised down main street, I could tell this jerkwater town needed a hero. They just didn’t know it yet. Lucky for them, I was in the market for a new town worth savin’. Hallow Ridge was the fifth town, in just as many years, that I wandered into and became sheriff. You’d think it would be hard to move into town and take over bein’ sheriff, but it’s actually real easy. First off, most people don’t want to be sheriff, it don’t pay hardly nothin’ and second, it’s basically a dead-end job. There ain’t no promotion to get when you’re the sheriff. And there is a ton of paperwork you’re supposed to do. Now I say supposed to cause you can get away with not doin’ a lot of it. Well, sometimes. I got kicked out of being sheriff three years ago cause some damn noisy mayor came sniffin’ round like a bloodhound on a scent. She was asking for paperwork on cases we’d solved months ago. I straight up told her, “I musta solved ten cases since then. I don’t remember exactly what happened.” She didn’t like that. She started fussin’ something awful about jurisprudence, and that’s when I knew it was time for me to skeddadle.

So, maybe I ain’t good at paperwork. But I got good common sense. That’s what got me this job in the first place. When I was twenty-two, I was travelling round like I had been since I was sixteen. Pickin’ up work whenever I needed money. I stopped at a gas station in a one-horse town when I heard a cowboy talking about needin’ a new ranch hand on account of his havin’ disappeared three weeks ago. Bein’ that I’m six feet two and built like I've been cuttin’ wood eight hours a day all my life, he gave me the job on the spot. Bein’ in the right place at the right time is kinda my specialty. That and knowin’ when to get gone before the you-know-what hits the fan.

I worked at the ranch for nearly three months when one night I went into town to visit the waterin’ hole. I saw this little white fluffy thing sniffin’ round a dumpster. I ain’t a little dog guy, but I also ain’t a monster. I knew it wasn’t no street hound, so I picked up the little fella and brought him back to the bunkhouse. Jerry, the guy I worked with, said he reckoned it was the boss’s dog. It had been missing for three days. Prit near the whole town was out lookin’ for this ball of fur. The boss loved that little fella more than his kin. Though I don’t blame him. His boys could barely do nothin’ but spend money and find the bottom of a whiskey bottle.

Anyway, I marched up to the front door of that big white house with a hundred damn rooms and held out the squirmy buggar. The boss was so happy, he said I was too clever to be workin’ no shovel. He said he knew of a better use of my detective skills. I reckon he thought I found his mutt on purpose, which worked just fine for me. Turns out his brother was the mayor, and he was lookin’ for a new sheriff cause the last one up and died. So, by the next afternoon, I was sheriff. And ever since then, I’ve been sheriff in one town or another.

The last gig started out good. I thought maybe I could make that one last. Hell, I even started doing the damn paperwork like they wanted. But those prissy little numbskulls turned on me. Just like all the towns before that. You do one favour or take a little bonus for some hard work, and everyone done loses their minds. Those fools wouldn’t know a good thing if it came up and bit them in their fat behinds. None of them could live on the wage they pay me. Sometimes you gotta get creative.

Them little towns always say the same thing. They want change, but truth is, they can’t handle it. They get all high and mighty and start making excuses about this, that and the other thing. People think they know what they need, but they don’t. They want everything to be good and safe and right all the time. Well damn, that ain’t life. People need something to talk about. And once they got something, they’re like a dog on a bone. They pull and chew and gnaw till there ain’t nothin’ left. They tucker themselves out, then I come along and fix whatever’s broken. That’s exactly how we ended up with half the town pourin’ into the Elk’s lodge, all their needy eyes peerin’ up at me like I was their saviour.

It was early Sunday mornin’. Half of the town that was usually at church had decided to come hear me preach instead of Reverend Tucker. And the other half, the ones that were usually sleepin’ off Saturday night, well, they showed up too, hangover and all. The room was shrinkin’ with every face that passed through the double doors. They were squeezin’ themselves in like I was about to announce the comin’ of Jesus. I walked across the stage to the podium. Putting my papers down, I knocked the mic with my hand, sending a screech into the sea of camo and plaid. Bodies turn to me, their eyes wide with searching stares. They wanted answers. They wanted justice. But most of all, they wanted to know their little town was safe and nothin’ bad ever happened there. I stared at the crowd and told the biggest lie of my life. There must have been five hundred people in that room, which was probably built for two hundred at most. Neighbours, friends, family — everybody showed up to support the families of those girls. Hell, even Samantha Brightly, who’d run out of gas on Highway 5 last week and still hadn’t found her way out, was there.

That’s what this town did. It sucked people in and didn’t let go. I kinda hoped it would do the same for me. I was gettin’ real tired of movin’, and this place was bout as good as any to stick around. It didn’t hurt that there was a pretty redheaded waitress named Jenni-Lynn that I was sweet on. I thought about settlin’ down one day. Marryin’ a nice girl who went to church and baked a mean biscuit. Maybe have a couple of boys and take ’em fishin’ on the weekends. Do all them things you see people doin’ in the movies. I never had no daddy. He took one look at me and ran fast as he could outta town. Least that’s what Mama said.

The room settled and I started talkin’, “Folks, I know you all came here lookin’ for answers, and that’s exactly what you deserve. I ain’t gonna sugar coat it, and I ain’t gonna keep the details hidden. I know ya’ll are used to the police in this town sweepin’ things under the rug, but I’m tellin’ ya right now, that ain’t gonna happen.” I paused and looked up. All eyes were fixed on me. Drinkin’ it in, I continued, “Two of our girls have gone missin’. Ashlyn McFort, aged fourteen, with long strawberry blonde hair and Beatrice Townly, or as we all knew her, Bea, fifteen years old, with short black hair, was havin’ a sleepover at Ashlyn’s two nights ago on Friday. Ashlyn’s mom, Terri, was workin’ at Sky High Pie when Ashlyn texted at 7:03 pm. She said they were walkin’ to Dave’s store to get some snacks. We have video of them arrivin’ at Dave’s at 7:15 pm, then leavin’ the store at 7:38 pm and walkin’ east, which is the direction of Terri’s trailer. Terri finished her shift, then went home arrivin’ at approximately 10:00 pm. Terri said the trailer was dark and empty. She texted Ashlyn but didn’t get a response. She tried callin’ a few times, but no answer. Terri called Bea’s mom, Brenda Townly. She hadn’t heard from the girls and tried to call Bea, but there was no answer. Brenda had a tracker on Bea’s phone, and when she looked, she saw the girls were at the elementary school. They figured the girls had stopped to play on the equipment and possibly met some friends. They both went there, but there was no sign of the girls. Terri doesn’t have the tracker set up on Ashlyn’s phone, so we couldn’t compare the two.” Pausing, I looked up from my notes. Sweat was rolling down my back. Calm down, I told myself. I can’t be up here sweatin’ like a roast pig over the fire. I’d never talked to a crowd that big before, but it wasn’t the size of the crowd that was gettin’ me heated. And it wasn’t the information or even the fact that we were packed in like sardines. The thing that was bubbling under the surface of my skin, making me hotter than the devil’s armpit, was the truth. But ain’t nobody gonna hear that, so I mopped my forehead with my sleeve and continued.

“The parents of the missing girls called the police station at approximately 10:45 pm. Officer Alden was on duty that night and took the call. He went to the park to meet the parents. When he got there, Terri and Brenda were havin’ a heated debate that ended up with Brenda needin’ to leave and get stitches. Officer Alden got the details from Terri, then told her to go home and see if the girls returned. He searched the area, then drove around for half an hour, includin’ visitin’ Dave’s store, but he didn’t find nothin’. Dave’s son, Jeremy, was workin’ the store that night as he always does on Friday and Saturday nights. With no evidence of suspicious behaviour, Officer Alden called Terri and Brenda and told them that we would launch a full investigation in the morning if the girls didn’t show up. The girls were probably just out being teenagers, and it wasn’t time to be blowin’ up a storm quite yet.

The next mornin’, Officer Alden was finishing his shift when I arrived at the station, followed by Officer Wix and Officer Nelson. After Officer Alden brought us up to speed, I called both parents to see if the girls showed up, but couldn’t reach anyone. Finally, around 9:30 am, Terri called back and said the girls still weren’t home. We immediately started organizin’ a search party for the missin’ girls. This part, a lot of you will know, as you were part of the searchin’. We started at Dave’s store and headed east lookin’ in every corner, every dumpster, every nook and cranny we could find, but there was no sign of the girls anywhere. Then we started visitin’ businesses to find out if there was any CCTV on the way from Dave’s store to Terri’s house. Officer Alden found and reviewed security footage from two businesses and three houses on Friday night, from 7:30 pm to 10:00 pm.

One video, from Brittany’s Beauty shop, showed the girls walkin’ past with a yellow plastic bag at 7:49 pm. Jeremy confirmed the yellow bag was from the store and was full of candy, pop and a bag of salt and vinegar chips. As ya’ll know, Brittany’s is only about four minutes from Terri’s trailer. So, now we know the girls somehow went missing in an area less than a quarter mile. Approximately 150 yards from Brittany’s beauty shop is the elementary school. After sweepin’ the area, we found Bea’s phone in the grass beside the big metal slide. It was dead, so we charged it, but didn’t find anything helpful. It’s probable, the girls went to play on the equipment and Bea dropped her phone. Now, we don’t have a lot to go on, but our theory is that the girls must have gotten into a vehicle. There’s no evidence of the girls, not a bag of candy, not a shoe, nothin’.” Someone moved in their chair, causing it to let out a loud squeak, breaking the spell of silence. More movement. I was losing them; I could feel it.

“Now, I told you I was gonna tell you everything. Be totally and completely honest. So that’s what I’m doin’. Normally, the police don’t tell you every little detail like this. They definitely wouldn’t tell you that Officer Alden, bein’ a rookie and not knowin’ better, should have started a search party immediately. Even if them girls was prone to causin’ trouble. Ya’ll know they were the ones startin’ fires last summer, even that one that got outta control and burnt down Henry Miller’s hardware store.”

Town folk started mutterin’ and squirmin’ in their seats. I wanted to tell them that those damn girls were causin’ more trouble than that. I wanted to tell them I knew those girls, who dressed like they had night jobs, if ya know what I mean, had started sneakin’ into the homes of some of the older folk. They were takin’ money outta their wallets and stealin’ things they thought they could pawn in Ruston. Two times last month I had to drive to Ruston to collect those two hellions when they got themselves stranded, and neither parent were sober long enough to go get them. But I didn’t say nothin’ cause this wasn’t about that. Truth was, those damn girls were a thorn in my side, and it was a blessin’ they were gone.

I started talkin’ over the crowd, “Listen up now, you all elected me, and I promised to do things differently. So, here we are. On Saturday, after searching the area where the girls were last seen and finding nothing, I reached out to the neighbouring towns and even as far away as Ruston. And now, listen up ya’ll, this is why you came. We received a phone call this morning that the girls had been seen.” Gasps and chatter rolled through the room. “Ahem,” I cleared my throat, pulling all eyes back on me, “It seems they’ve been spotted in Ruston. We don’t know where yet, but we’ll find them. You have my word.” Half the crowd was on their feet, huggin’ and shaking hands. Big grins and looks of relief painted on each face. “Thank you, that’s all I have for now,” I shouted over the noise, not expectin’ anyone to hear me.

“Sheriff Jacobs,” a voice broke out in front. I looked down and saw Terri looking up at me as the crowd fell quiet again, “Thank you. I ain’t been the best mother,” she said, looking down at her feet. That was the understatement of the year. “But my girl is everything to me, and well, well, I’m just so relieved she’s okay.” I looked down at her. I could smell the whiskey thick on her breath. Not last night’s whiskey, neither.

“You’re welcome, Terri,” I replied, “now if you’ll excuse me, I’m headed to Ruston.” She reached out and grabbed my hand, then pulled it close and kissed the back of my large, sweaty paw. I nodded and pulled it back as I turned to leave.

Through the back door, my body relaxed as the cool air hit my face. Jenni-Lynn appeared beside me as I advanced to my patrol car. “You’re going to Ruston right now?” she asked.

“Yup, gotta get on this lead while it’s hot.”

“I’m off today, if you want some company on the drive?”

“This is official police business. I gotta do it by the book.”

“Okay. Well, why don’t you come over later? I’ll make biscuits n’ gravy just the way you like ‘em,” she said, a smile slipped across her pink lips.

“Will do,” I said, then leaned in and kissed her cheek. I opened the car door to get in. Jenni-Lynn stepped back, peering into the back seat of the cruiser. “Why do you have a shovel in your back seat?”

My back stiffened, then, turning real slow, I said, “Parker Freely’s dog got run over, and I buried it for him. Just haven’t had time to take the shovel back out yet.”

“You are a saint, ya know. Probably the best thing that ever happened to this town.”

“There ain’t nothin’ I wouldn’t do for this town. Nothin’ I wouldn’t do to stay here and take care of these fine folk,” I said starin’ into her olive-green eyes. “And there ain’t nothin’ I wouldn’t do to take care of you, too.” Jenni-Lynn pushed her slight body up on her toes, grabbed my cheeks with both hands and kissed me hard, heatin’ my whole body, toes n’all. I bent my head, kissin’ her back, then pulled away. “Now I gotta go,” I smiled, “before I talk myself outta goin’ on account I just wanna spend the day with you.” Jenni-Lynn beamed. I winked as she stepped back givin’ me room to get into the car.

I rolled down my window and turned on the radio as the sun blazed high in the sky. Half an hour into my drive, I thought about the people of Hallow Ridge. They loved me, and maybe, for the first time in my life, I loved them. But love ain’t free. Everythin’ costs somethin’. The town already paid their bill, now it was time for me to finish payin’ mine. In the side mirror, I noticed a long wisp of strawberry blonde hair whippin’ in the breeze from the crowded trunk. Hittin’ the turn signal, I pulled onto a side road and drove deep into the forest, my mind already fixin’ on Jenni-Lynn’s biscuits n’ gravy.