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TY GRADY WAS WELL-SPOKEN for a country sheriff, more literate than his deputies seemed to be. I suspected he had been educated somewhere else and had then moved here. Grady wasn’t a common Mississippi name.
He wore an official county sheriff department’s jacket even though it was May, like a symbol of his profession. On his belt, he had an old web holster with a Glock 22 in it. All I could see was the butt of the gun. It glimmered black in the dim lights and looked well maintained and well oiled.
He said, “Those boys say that you attacked them.”
“I attacked three armed men?”
“They were armed?”
I said, “One had a Louisville slugger.”
“A baseball bat? You took on three heavyset guys, put two in the clinic, and one had a baseball bat?”
I said, “That’s about the sum of it. Except I didn’t attack them.”
“You didn’t?”
“No. They attacked my neighbor at the motel. The guy in room thirteen. You should check on him.”
“Yeah? Why is that?”
“His wife is missing. She was abducted, and those guys had something to do with it.”
He said, “Those boys didn’t abduct anyone.”
I said, “They were trying to abduct him.”
“They never mentioned anything about a motel room. They said you attacked them in the parking lot.”
“They must be confused. I never attacked anyone.”
He nodded and then said, “Well you’re here for the day and night. The judge will hear your case in the morning. He’s on the lake today. Will be the whole day, I’m afraid.”
I said, “Grady.”
He leaned in close to the bars.
“You need to check on Chris Matlind, the guy in room thirteen at the motel. He’ll be in my room today. Room fourteen. His wife is missing, and he’s scared. He thinks the whole town is in on it. Claims no one will help him. Not even you.”
“That guy you’re talking about never came here with any wife. We investigated and questioned him and multiple eyewitnesses. No one saw any woman with him.”
I said, “Sheriff, she’s a young black woman. Could be the rednecks took her because of it, or could be that her disappearance has something to do with all of those missing girls. Might be that those rednecks you’re protecting are into more than you think.”
He said, “Those boys might be into making moonshine and stockpiling illegal guns—maybe even cooking meth—but that’s the extent of it. They’d never hurt anyone.”
He turned to walk away but stopped. He didn’t turn back but said, “I don’t give a shit if anyone is black or purple. No one here has taken her, because she isn’t real. Period.” He continued walking. He made it halfway down the corridor.
I said, “Grady, my mom was a sheriff. I know the cop life. It’s your duty to check on every crime that’s reported to you, no matter how much you don’t believe it. I’m telling you that Matlind is telling the truth. I saw it in his eyes. That guy lost someone, and she might still be here. She might still be alive.”
He stopped but never turned around. He said over his shoulder, “I will personally go by and talk with him.”
He turned and walked down the hall and was lost to sight.
One thing that I had learned from years in the military was during down times, go to sleep. You never know when the next chance will be. I hit the cot and closed my eyes.