I’m thinking of the remaining few days I have before the next session of summer school starts. This has been a nice break, despite, you know, getting shot and all.
I’m downtown Solitary at Brennan’s Grill and Tavern, eating a bacon barbecue burger, and I’m almost done when someone slides into the booth across from me. For a second I think it’s Marsh, but this guy is too big to be the pastor.
“Chris,” Sheriff Wells says.
“Hi,” I say with my mouth full.
“So how you doing?”
I nod and tell him fine. He looks at me with grim, suspicious eyes.
This was the guy who told me to lie low and keep to myself. Now he keeps popping up for some reason.
“Nothing abnormal going on in your life?”
“Nope.”
Abnormal around here would mean nothing was happening. So I’m not really lying.
“How about your mother? Is she doing well?”
“Yeah, last time I noticed, which was like five minutes ago,” I say. “She’s over there behind the bar.”
And speaking of bar, she’s well on her way to rehab, if that’s the “well” he’s referring to.
For a few minutes he asks me questions and I keep answering them in short, mouth-full-of-food answers.
“Well, it’s good to hear that everything is under control. I just had some information that I thought you might like to know. Considering everything.”
I nod, staring at the deep wrinkles on his face and the heavy bags under his eyes.
“They found Wade Sims dead this morning after he drove his car off the side of a mountain. All reports show he was drunk. Probably didn’t feel a thing.”
I suddenly have an eerie image of Staunch looking in the window and waving at me, an evil grin on his face.
Act normal just act like this doesn’t shock you.
“Wow, that’s crazy,” I say.
I guess the sheriff’s new role is to come and see me anytime something bad happens to someone I know.
I really don’t want to see this guy anymore.
“You didn’t happen to see Wade recently, did you?”
I shake my head, but it seems as if both the sheriff and I know I’m lying.
“Well, the funny thing is—not really funny, more interesting, I guess—is that Wade came back around here. There are no reports of Helen Evans being spotted anywhere in Solitary. The old house is still abandoned. Just took a drive there before coming here.”
The sheriff continues to look for a reaction from me, but I’m not giving him anything. The time came and went for that.
“Chris—I’m on your side here,” he whispers.
“Sometimes it seems as if there are no sides,” I can’t help saying. “That everybody is swimming in a nice round pool around here.”
“I can’t help it that we lost that young girl, Chris.”
“I lost her. I don’t recall you losing anything.”
Except maybe your guts and courage to stand up and do what’s right.
“Do you understand that within a very short time, two people who have recently had altercations with you have tragically died?”
“You think I had something to do with it?”
He shakes his head and then rubs his goatee. “I don’t know. I know it wasn’t you—but I think they’re tied together.”
“But didn’t you say Wade had been drinking?”
“It looks that way. But there are a lot of things around here that look a certain way.”
“So what are you going to do?”
He doesn’t seem to like my tone. He leans over and talks between clenched teeth.
“You listen to me—I’m just trying to help.”
“It’s a little late for that, isn’t it?”
I can hear the snotty, flippant attitude reeking off my words. But I don’t care. This man is as much to blame for Jocelyn’s death as Pastor Marsh.
One big, gigantic pool. Jump in, Chris, the water’s still warm!
“I’m still keeping an eye on you, just so you know,” the sheriff says as he slides out of the booth.
“Good. So’s the rest of the town.”