On his return to the hospital, David stopped by Abe’s Market for a fresh biscuit and a cup of the best coffee in town, heaps better than the lukewarm, watery-brown liquid the hospital served in its cafeteria. The primary draw of Abe’s, however, was a healthy dose of local gossip, courtesy of the regulars swapping tall tales at the Liars’ Table.
Abe’s son, Danny, had taken over running the market, freeing the older man to hold court at the table with the rest of the retired men. They were all members of the volunteer fire department, though they had long since left the smoke eating and dangerous rescues to the younger men in town. They kept scanners running to stay up to date on what little action Miller County saw, mostly accidents out on the interstate as tourists and truckers misjudged the sharp, winding curves.
Abe called out, “Sheriff, figured you’d be too busy to come in here, what with all the excitement out on the highway last night.”
David paid Danny for his order then sauntered over to the table. “Yep, a few wrecks on a snowy night. Y’all know how that goes.”
Abe exchanged sly smiles with the men around the table. David understood as well as they did that part of the game was them drawing the details out of him. “True, true, but I meant the boy you found.”
“Oh yeah, that too.”
“Heard his name was Jaxon. ‘With an x’ is how the deputy said it.” Abe gestured toward the scanner propped up on the table.
“Yep, so the boy said.”
“Quite a coincidence, considering that missing Lathan kid all those years ago.”
“Yep.”
“So is it him?”
“We’re looking at all possibilities, just like we always do. But of course we would tell the family before we made anything like that public.”
Abe sipped his coffee, his eyes focused on the sheriff through the steam. “If it was that boy, makes you wonder what really happened way back then. You know, with his father and all.”
Danny called out that his order was ready, so David went back up to the counter and took the coffee and the small bag with his fresh biscuit. He turned back to the men, measuring his words carefully, knowing they would be repeated throughout the day. “We always wondered what really happened back then, which is why no one was ever charged. Unfortunately, we can’t always control the rumors.”
The men exchanged startled glances. “But…”
“Y’all have a great day. Give Marge my best, will ya, Abe?” David left them buzzing and headed out to the parking lot. He settled into the driver’s seat and looked through the plate-glass window. The men were huddled together, probably feverishly rehashing the conversation.
Of course, the whole town thought Harold Lathan had kidnapped his own son. The sheriff’s department had never said otherwise. But it was also true that he had never been charged, a fact that had probably grown fuzzy over the years. David had planted a seed of clarity with them, giving himself some maneuvering room no matter the outcome.