Chapter 22
What More Information Do You Need?
Early the next morning, I stormed into the sheriff’s office and startled Carolann, who had her back to me. She cussed at a stubborn printer that must have run out of ink. “Dammit to hell, you bitch. I just filled your guts with ink last week.”
“You always talk to your printer, Carolann?”
She turned and scowled. “Yes, and when she doesn’t cooperate, I get real down and dirty mad. I ain’t got time for this crap. Now, what do you want?”
“Chad in?”
“Hell, no.”
“So, where is he?”
“Damn to hell if I know. He ain’t been in for days.”
“How about Deputy Dawg? He around?”
“Easy there, missy. You know Doug hates to be called that.”
“I don’t care. Where is he?”
“Over at Green’s having coffee. Chawing with the boys, most likely.”
Carolann was frustrating me, or maybe I was just frustrated in general and found her to be a convenient punching bag. “Well, hell, Carolann, who’s running this show?”
She stood a little straighter. “Guess I am. What do you need?”
I shook my head. “Unless you have the authority to investigate and arrest, I guess you’re not much help.”
“Well, whose high horse did you ride in on today? What exactly is your problem, Miss Eggers?”
I stood before Carolann so close I could count the little purple rivers of veins running across her bulbous whiskey nose. It was no secret in town, and Mabs had confirmed it to me, that her sister, Carolann, preferred to socialize with Jack Daniels over anyone else. Mabs had once cautioned me that if I needed something from Carolann it was best to catch her before four o’clock, because after that she would park her ample butt at the TW Bar, a watering hole about as old as the town of Standard, and a popular place for burger and fries on a deck that overhung the Standard River.
“Carolann, I need the sheriff to pay attention to crimes happening in this town and county but if he and Deputy Dawg are going to ignore this, I’m going to have print some damning stories in the paper.”
Carolann laughed so hard, her jowls jiggled. “Go ahead, honey. No one reads that rag of yours anyway.” She was still laughing when I slammed the door.
If I was frustrated and furious before, I was now hot as a cheap pistol. I strode down the street to Green’s coffee shop. The place was full of locals enjoying morning coffee and breakfast. Dolly Parton sang a happy tune on a radio sitting behind the counter. All conversation stopped when I walked in. Deputy “Dawg” Doug Martin yukked it up at a table with three other men I’d never seen before. Their clothes were too nice to be farmers or ranchers, and their hair was too neatly clipped for rural life.
I stood in front of Doug. “I need to speak to you alone.”
Doug’s sloppy smile faded but the other three smirked loud enough for all to hear. “Well, sure, Miss Eggers. Pull up a chair.”
“Outside. Now.”
“Well, uh, I’m in the middle of breakfast. Why don’t you meet me in my office in, say, half an hour.”
“Outside. Now. I won’t say it again.” An uneasy buzz circled the small café. Even the clink of silverware on plates had abruptly halted. An old fan creaked above our heads.
“What’s this about that’s so urgent?”
That was it. My teapot had boiled over. I grabbed his shirt collar. “Listen you little good for nothing shit. Get off your ass and follow me.”
Mr. Green, the café’s owner approached us wiping his hands on his apron. “Please Deputy Doug. Do as she say. I won’t no trouble here.”
Then someone from the back of the room hollered, “Get off your ass, Deputy Dawg. Do as she says.” The joint erupted in laughter. I turned and walked out the door and waited outside until he joined me.
He placed his Stetson on his crewcut head. His face was red as Dr. Cavendish’s pickup truck. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
I grabbed his arm and led him down the street away from the café and into the nearest alley. I pushed him up against the wall. “I’ll tell you what’s wrong. We have a sheriff who’s AWOL and a deputy who’s lollygagging around ignore all the crime in our town.”
He held me by the elbows and gently pushed me away. “What crimes are you talking about?”
“Someone shot up Dr. Cavendish’s truck last night. Just for starters.”
“I haven’t heard anything about that.”
“Well now you have. What are you going to do about it?”
He looked up and down the alley as if expecting the entire occupants of the café to follow us and listen. “Did you call this in?”
“Listen to me, you idiot. I’m telling you now. I was there. We were standing outside talking when this truck…no…something bigger than a truck, like a Ranger Rover or Humvee, something like that, roared toward us with his headlights off and started shooting at us. Now I don’t know who it was, but somebody was trying to scare us, and they shot out the windows on Tom’s truck.”
“Tom?”
“Dr. Cavendish you dolt.”
“I know his name, Miss Eggers. It’s just that you made it sound more than familiar.”
“Fuck you, Doug. That’s not the point.”
He smirked and I wanted to knock the loopy grin off his face but he was taller and I knew I’d probably already pushed my luck with berating him, grabbing him by the collar, and pushing him up against the wall.
“Tell you what. Follow me to the office and we’ll file a report. I need more information.”
“What more information do you need than that?”
He walked away. “Follow me.”
I was surprised to see Dr. Cavendish in the sheriff’s office. He and Carolann looked up at us. She said, “I see you found him. Dr. Cavendish has just filed a report on a shooting at his place last night.”
“So, I’ve heard,” Doug said.
Tom looked up at me. “I told her everything, Sam. It’s official now.”
Doug cocked an eyebrow at me. “Sam?”
“Knock it off, Doug. You’ve always called me, Sam.”
He smirked. “Yep. I guess familiar is good.” He picked up Carolann’s written report, scanned it, and said, “Thanks folks. I’ll look into it.”
“When?” I said.
He grabbed his holster belt from a peg on the wall and headed for the door. “I’m on the radio, Carolann, ATL.”
“Hey! Where are you going?” I said.
He winked at me, which made me mad all over again. “Off to attempt to locate a Range Rover or Humvee.”
Wow, that left me as frustrated as Sam!
Grrrrrrr. I think I'm as mad as Sam