Ain't Got it in Him

It’d been a long time since Jimbo had seen his family. Or at least that they’d noticed anyhow. Ever since his so-called moment in the sun, his relatives all went back to their lives in a few corners of Robertson County.

The calls started to wither away too and at the same pace. It was drips and drabs. No more newsies at the door either, but he’d said enough.

In front of him lay a desk blotter with a yellow sticky note carefully centered for him not to miss. The wind from the fan kept lifting the non-sticky part up and down with a rhythm some birds have.

And written on the note was: 'Sheriff that boy from the state police called again.'

The sticky had a number at the bottom. The note was dated almost four days ago. He unstuck it and crumpled it up before dropping it in the trash.

That’s four days to make a plan or make a slip to some other dusty corner of Kentucky. He was very capable of doing that, of just disappearing. It was the sticking with it part that had him flummoxed.

Aside from the Army, Jimbo had never spent much time out of Robertson, never mind hide and live somewhere. But, he damn well knew that boy the state outfit was coming and nothing was going to change that.

He stared at the decades old clock on the wall and heard it tick, three minutes to four. Jimbo’s eyes wandered one of fading newspaper clippings:

Local Sheriff Cracks case of missing teenager as search continues for her twin.

Armstrong gets life sentence: death penalty off the table

Jimbo thought heard something but it was just the clock. It was now two minutes to four. He had to prepare. There was a lot he would have to tell this kid.

He remembers the day the verdict came down and how his expected sense of relief became an anvil on his chest for the past twelve years. He though often about fessing up but he just didn’t have it in him.

So instead, he showed up for work and did his job to the lowest satisfactory standard and kept himself very quiet. And every night he’d rock himself to sleep and waited for a knock at the door.

He remembered Armstrong telling him, “you do this now and I got you hamstrung for life.” He spit on his shoes as he said it and wrestled the handcuffs that were behind his back. Armstrong glared up at him with one increasingly swollen eye, “We done this together and we gonna walk or not, together.”

The clock just struck again, it was one minute to four. Jimbo eyed another clipping:

Hero sheriff nabs killer at the crime scene: Gets key to the county

No leads on missing sister: State police stepping in

Jimbo remembers how cocky he was just ten years ago. Looking right at the state police honcho, “Gee I’d love to help you cap but that was two years ago already, I’d say my instincts on such matters might be a little bit dulled.”

Mirrored sunglasses stared right back at him, “Well now if it was up to me, we’d leave things just where they at. The FBI, they’ll come around sooner or later. But it ain’t up to me. Just tell my new kid what you know”. 

Jimbo felt cockier even more in that moment, “cap, what we all went through, the trial, the TV, the town. I mean… that family.”

The sheriff spit a piece of tobacco off his lip. He leaned a hand on the car hood and exhaled deeply.

“They probably just want it for one of them damn unsolved who the fuck dunnit type shows anyhow. Just keep him entertained and consider it extra credit. I’ll stop by in a week.”

“Hey cap, what do you think they’ll finally do with him? Armstrong I mean.”

“He’ll likely rot where he is. But, if they ever find that other girl and they link him to it. Well, he may get the chair after all, unless of course there’s an accomplice.”

Jim imagined himself choking on the car dust as the captain sped away. He saw that word almost in sky-writing above his head, 'accomplice'.

He realized his heart was racing and it was hard to take a breath. A thousand images of the past two years flew past him in a moment as his throat tightened. That’s when he really felt cornered.

Its also how he felt when he saw Armstrong in his jail cell that day before the verdict.

Armstrong just lay back in the dank. “Well, everyone make way, the king has arrived. Sherlock Holmes himself.” Jimbo hated every minute of this but he just had to see his face, just to know this was all real.

“Us two wolves snuck into the cottage”. Armstrong stepped closer and whispered close enough for only Jimbo to hear. “Who’d a thought the little dolly had a sister.” He said this with a sneaky looking grin that was somehow quite satisfied and curious at the same time.

Jimbo grabbed the bars and leaned in, “Its not my fault, you went back there! You knew I had to go through the motions.”

He was angry now. “I expected to find a picked over and sanitized pretty little crime scene.” He quickly looked around. “And I find you! Cause you left your fucking wallet! What was I supposed to do? The other one was still missing! I panicked, or, I guess choked.”

Armstrong was almost laughing, “Careful Jimmy, you don’t want to lose your temper and besmirch that fancy uniform, look at ya, T. J. Hooker himself.” He let out an abusive sounding chuckle. 

He went on, “When you sell a guy out, you really sell the guy out. And if you ever find yourself at the banks of Five Lick River, let’s just hope for both our sakes, that they never find little dolly girl’s twinsy.” He put his index fingers together and made a zapping sound.

And now back at the desk, twelve years later, there’s a rap at the door. Jimbo sees the mirrored glasses through the window. With less than one minute to go.

Jimbo delicately placed his badge on the table with the gun in his hand. After twelve years of looking over his shoulder, he’d now be in charge of a new investigation.

He put the gun down. Sheriff James “Jimbo” T. Nance just wouldn’t be able to do that. He just didn’t have it in him.

He said to the mirrored glasses, “there was never going to be a murder, much less two.”

The clock struck four.