Chapter 3

In spite of the nagging fear of the law in the back of his mind, once the chaos of those first couple of weeks died down, Errol's life easily slipped into a comfortable routine. Jennie gave him keys to the diner so he could get in and prep for breakfast. He usually had the Vulcan fired up ready to go and a couple of pots of coffee brewed by the time she got there. He did whatever he could to take the pressure off of her, and she looked for ways to show him how much she appreciated his efforts.

Margie White, the motel owner became more and more dependent on him as well. He voluntarily picked up other duties around the motel on top of cleaning the rooms. He kept the weeds around the building cut down, he tended the flower boxes spotted along the walkway in front of the rooms, and he even washed windows. She reciprocated by buying a nice recliner to put in his room in place of the cheap vinyl thing. She added a small desk and an office chair a week later.

He took that opportunity to suggest she think about getting the motel wired for Internet, saying that he was sure it would attract business people on a budget. She thanked him and said she'd look into it.

By the time summer had passed and the leaves had begun to turn, he could pretty much run the motel solo if she needed him to. She took advantage of that by spending an occasional evening with her sister across town, something she rarely had an opportunity to do before. As far as she was concerned, Errol was the best thing to come her way in ages.

Although he was still looking over his shoulder for any signs of law enforcement interest in his comings and goings, he was beginning to feel comfortable and relatively safe in Polk.

But life in the little town wasn't entirely idyllic. There were a couple of incidents that marred the newcomer's hope for a quiet, peaceful, anonymous life.

The first one was about a month after Valerie, the waitress, had been fired. About eleven o'clock one night, she knocked on his door, arousing him from a sound sleep. It took him a few seconds of staring at her to recognize who she was.

"Valerie? What is it? What are you doing here?"

Even in the dim light, he could see that she was either drunk or high. She had a ridiculous grin on her face and her eyelids were at half-mast. She was dressed in tight shorts and a tank top that emphasized her nicely shaped, nubile teenage body.

"Oh, I just thought I'd stop by to say hi, Errol. I mean I haven't seen you around town or anything and I'm guessing you don't get out much, so I thought you might like some company."

Errol rolled his eyes and said, "Actually, Valerie, I'm not looking for any company. I need sleep. I have to open the diner in a few hours, so, Hi, nice to see you again, but now you need to go home. Good night!"

He started to close his door, but she pushed by him and stumbled into his room, flopping face-first onto his bed.

She rolled over and sat up giggling like a little girl, and with slurred speech, she said, "Hey! That's not very friendly! I just thought we could, you know, get to know each other better. A good-looking guy like you, why I bet you're used to having women friends over to spend the night."

With that, she grabbed the bottom of her tank top and pulled it over her head, revealing bare boobs and all.

Errol was no automaton; his body chemistry responded to sexual advances just like any other young male would, but it didn't take a genius to know that Valerie being half naked in his motel room was an invitation to disaster. He was a new guy in town, and it was unlikely his carnal knowledge of one of the local girls would be looked upon with favor. And he sure as hell didn't need to be the object of a police inquiry.

He had to act quickly. He grabbed the keys to the office off of the bedside stand and took off out the door, leaving it standing wide open. He literally ran down to the office, unlocked the door, grabbed the telephone and dialed 911. He told the operator that there was a girl in his room who was either drunk or drugged, and that he needed an officer to come by the motel. She said she'd send a deputy over right away and asked if she should send an ambulance as well. He told her he didn't think that was necessary.

He waited in the office, watching out the window to see if Valerie would leave. She didn't. His intention was to wait in the office and tell the officer every single detail about what had happened. He didn't like the idea of involving the law, but he was forced to choose the lesser of two risky situations. He didn't think his name would be on the law-enforcement network as a person of interest in the death of a sleaze-ball two states away, but he couldn't be absolutely positive. The Valerie situation was here and now, and it had to be dealt with.

About that time, Margie came shuffling through the curtain in her robe. "What's goin' on in here, Errol?"

"I'm sorry if I woke you up, Margie, but this girl that used to work at the diner knocked on my door and pushed her way into my room. She was no sooner inside than she started undressing. Hell, I'm the new guy in town and I sure don't need that kind of trouble. I just called the cops and they should be here any minute."

"Oh my lord! You mean that Valerie girl?"

"Yeah, that's her."

Margie started laughing. "Well, she always was kind of a wild one. I guess I ain't surprised she come after you, you bein' so good-lookin' and all."

Errol wasn't amused. "I don't see what's so funny about it. She could claim I assaulted her and it'd just be my word against hers. Being the new kid on the block, I don't like the odds."

A County Sheriff's patrol car pulled up in front. Errol and Margie went out to meet him and told him what had happened. When he'd heard it all, the deputy got kind of a smirk on his face and said, "Well, let's just go see what she has to say for herself."

They walked down to Errol's room and stepped inside the open door. There was Valerie, stretched out across his bed, boobs bare to the world. She was sound asleep ... or passed out.

The deputy stepped over and looked down at her. "Valerie sure is a purdy thang, ain't she?"

Obviously, Errol was the only one who was taking this thing seriously.

"Look, officer, I just want her out of my room and for you all to understand that I never laid a hand on her! Can't you just take her home or something? Maybe over to the emergency department to have her checked out? I don't know if she's been drinking or doping or what."

"Yeah, Mr. Hansen, we'll take care of her. Margie, help me get her top back on. I don't want her folks to see her half naked in my patrol car when I take her home."

Margie and the deputy sat her up and pulled her tank top over her head as Errol stood back and watched. As the deputy picked her up to carry her out to his patrol car, he said, "Mr. Hansen, you did the right thing. I wanna say how much I respect you for not takin' advantage of a girl in her condition. A lotta guys would'a."

Margie said, "Well this young man's pretty special, and I'll sure as heck vouch for his character. Thanks for comin' so quick, Harley. We appreciate your help."

"Any time, Margie. Get the car door for me, would ya son?"

The next incident, on the 1st of October was far more serious. It was a domestic dispute that found its way to the diner and almost proved fatal for a woman and the guy she was cheating with. It was after two in the afternoon and Errol was waiting to be relieved by the evening cook who was chronically fifteen minutes late.

There were probably a dozen people in the diner sitting in booths and four sitting at the counter. He noticed that one couple seemed to be especially smitten with each other; holding hands across the table and making goo-goo eyes at each other like a couple of teenagers. But they were at least in their forties.

As Errol was scraping down the grill, he looked up and saw a large man step through the door and look around. If there's one thing a person learns from being in combat, it's to spot anything about people that might represent a danger. Errol was first alerted by the guy's body language; he seemed tense and he had his right hand inside his light jacket.

It was immediately obvious to Errol that the man was probably armed and that he was there on a mission. As soon as the guy spotted the moon-struck couple in the last booth, he moved in that direction. Errol quietly picked up a small cast-iron skillet and headed through the swinging doors and around the counter to come up behind him.

When the woman in the booth looked up and saw who was approaching them, her face went white and she emitted a little squeak, causing her beau to turn around. The guy (presumably the wronged husband) stopped about six feet from the booth and said in an agonized whine, "Jesus Christ, Carol, you don't even have the good sense to get outta town when you're fuckin' your boy friend? Woman, you are too fuckin' stupid to live!"

With that, he pulled a long-barreled .22 magnum revolver from under his jacket and started to take aim. Before a bead could be drawn on his target, Errol cracked the guy across the side of his head with the skillet and laid him out cold. The big man fell like a pole-axed steer, and Errol dropped a knee into the middle of his back as he hooked his finger in the trigger guard of the revolver and pulled it out of the guy's hand. He couldn't take the chance that he'd leave a fingerprint on it, because it was certainly going to be closely examined by the cops.

"Oh my god!" the woman screamed, and started to slide out of the booth.

Errol stood up and blocked her way, shouting, "You sit back down and don't move until the cops arrive, you hear me?"

She looked at him with shock on her face and scooted to the far side of the booth. Her boyfriend started to protest, but the look on Errol's face shut him down before he uttered a word.

Jennie had heard the fuss and stood watching it all from the doorway to the kitchen where she'd been loading dishes into the washer. Before Errol could even ask, she had the phone in her hand and was dialing 911.

A couple of minutes later, the guy was starting to come around, but his hands were already tied behind his back. Errol lifted him by his shoulders and sat him against the side of a booth. There was a trickle of blood dripping down from his hairline. He looked up with unfocused eyes and asked, "What the fuck happened? Did you just hit me?"

Errol squatted down to eye level and answered, "I did. Someday you'll thank me for saving you from a very long stretch in prison for doing something amazingly stupid."

The guy got a sneer on his face and said, "If you would've minded your own damn business, I wouldn't have been goin' to no prison 'cause I would'a been dead like that cheatin' slut and her boy friend. Three bullets and it would'a been over. But NOOOO! You had t' stick your nose in and fuck up the works!"

"Really?" Errol asked, "Is she really worth all that?"

The guy shrugged and looked away.

The Sheriff's deputy - again it was Harley - slid to a stop out front, lights flashing and siren screaming. He ran into the diner with his pistol drawn. Within a few minutes, he had the short version of the story. He picked up the revolver (bare handed) and shoved it into his belt, then hauled the husband off to jail by way of the emergency room to have him evaluated for a possible head injury. He directed Errol and the cheating couple to report to the sheriff's office to make a statement. As he prodded the handcuffed assailant toward the door, he looked at Errol and said with a grin, "Son, you're earnin' quite a reputation in this town. Good thing you're one of the good guys, huh?"

Yeah, Errol thought to himself, Let's hope it stays that way. Aloud, he said, "None of it's my doing, Deputy!"