by E. P. Ned Burke

Created on: August 17, 2008

Sheriff Billings tilted his office chair and placed his dusty boots atop
an old metal desk. Except for the spot covered by his big feet, the only
other place not stacked with papers was the upper right corner of the
desk where a black phone sat, caked with donut residue. The air in the
room felt heavy, almost stagnant, except for the slight breeze produced
by the rusty fan atop the file cabinet. The sheriff lifted his face to the

fan and yawned, his mouth opening wide enough to shove a banana into
it sideways. Then he closed it and proceeded to comb a chubby hand
over his crewcut. He'd worn the same hairstyle since his days in the
Marines when he killed "gooks" in Vietnam. The hair was now gray and
cut so close to the scalp it looked more like beard stubble. He grabbed a
stack of papers and fanned himself.

"Jay Bob!" His voice boomed out to the deputy station. "Y'all sure
that A/C is workin' today? It's hot as hell in here."

Deputy Gooley appeared in the doorway.

"Fer as I know, it's workin'." His head brushed the top of the frame.
"Ya want I should call Zeke again to check it out?" He rubbed his back
against the doorframe like a bear in heat. He looked up at the ceiling
and went on as if he were talking to himself, his voice a lot like Slim
Pickens on a bad day.

"The thing is, last time he came, he told us we best get a new unit.
Yep, I recall him sayin' that our ol' A/C weren't worth a squirrel's nut."
He smiled and went on scratching. "I can give him a call if ya want. I
can do that. But, seein' how hot it is today I'm sure ol' Zeke is on the
road makin' a pile a money tinkerin' with every A/C in Possum County."
His eyes were now shut and he had a stupid grin on his face. "Yep,
when it gets to be this hot, ya can be sure ol' Zeke"

"Jay Bob! Shut the hell up and listen." Billings lowered his boots to
the floor and glared at his deputy. "I want y'all to keep an eye on Grant.
I want to know if any of those other kids meet with him. He said he had
them in his office Friday night, including the Clark kid. I want to know
just what the hell they're doin' in his office at night. I want to know his
every move."

"I get ya. So ya think Amos did the Clark kid, huh?"

"I didn't say that, did I?"

"But, I thought you"

"Shut up. Don't think. You'll only hurt yourself." Billings put his feet
back up on the desk and leaned back. "Just do what I tell ya. And try to
be as inconspicuous as possible, get it?"

"In ... con ... spic ... u"

"Ah, hell! Y'all dumb as a tack. Just don't let him know you're tailing
him, understand? Use a little imagination."

"Imagination." A bulb lit within the darkness of the deputy's empty
cranium. "Yeah! Yeah! I get it now," he said. "And I guess ... ya know,
like ... I should write everything downlike where he goes; who he
sees. Things like that, huh?"

Billings put his hands behind his head. A tired grin inched across
his large face. "Yeah, Jay Bob. Investigate. Fill out a report. Pretend
you're a goddamn coppretend you're someone else for a change."

The deputy's eyes opened wide. "Uh-huh, I got it. Someone else."

Billings stretched his arms over his head and yawned.

"That's wonderful, Jay Bob. Just wonderful. Now get the hell out of
here fore you forget what it is y'all supposed to do."

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