Chapter 11

Sunday, June 27, 7:13 p.m.

Lester had nobody, outside of Deputy Fulcher, to lend to Sam's effort to find Emma Majeski's murderer. Sam knew that even two officers working full-time on a single case strained the Sheriff's meager resources. After saying good-bye to Doug Ferguson, Sam had consulted a map, split up the thinly populated area around Ain't There Lake with Hugh Fulcher, and they both headed for the area in separate cars.

Sam started with the service station on the main highway that bordered the turnoff approaching County Line Road. Not surprisingly, the two men there had seen nothing out of the ordinary. Both had worked on Saturday, but remembered no unusual activity.

Sam asked about people who lived on or near the dirt road behind the station. The men confirmed that only a half-dozen families lived anywhere in the vicinity of Ain't There Lake. "It's just scrub pine and brambles out there," the service station owner told him. "Open land, no-good dirt-gully roads, nothin' much. You go on down, behind here, and instead of turning off onto County Line Road, look off to your right, there. There's a couple trailers back in there, 'cross the road from them woods and that swamp-lake. Old Nigra man named George Wallace's back there. There's a white family name of Hemphill, 'same general spot."

Sam located the Hemphill's mobile home first. It was set well off the roadway and deep in the pines. The aged double-wide trailer had its back to the nearby highway. From its front door, one could see the beginnings of County Line Road, but the Hemphill place was well-away -- close to a mile -- from the scene of Emma Majeski's murder.

He knocked on the door. Someone inside turned down the TV and Sam heard the door being unlocked. It was a boy about nine years of age.

"Hello," Sam began. "I'm Deputy Sheriff Sam Wicks..."

"We didn't do nothin!" the boy exclaimed. "Jimmy!" The boy slammed the door closed in Sam's face. Thinking better of it, he instantly reopened it. "Jimmy," he hollered again.

Sam peered through the screen door into the darkened interior. The boy had disappeared from view. In a moment, a larger boy appeared. "Hello," Sam repeated.

"You're the sheriff?"

"I'm the Chief Deputy Sheriff, yes.

"What do you want?" the older boy asked. He seemed as frightened as the younger boy had been. He was trembling, but he was holding on.

Sam wondered about the boys' near-panic reaction to his presence at the door. He paused. An idea struck. "You called the Sheriff's office early this morning."

There was a long pause while the older boy clung to the door and looked back into the trailer, presumably at his smaller companion.

"You called our office early this morning. We traced the call to you," Sam said, bluffing.

"We ain't even got no phone here. You couldn'a traced the call to us," the boy said. The kid was terrified.

Sam continued the bluff. "Now, son, I know it was you that called. Why don't you tell me about it? Are your folks here?"

"This here's Billy's house -- him," the boy said, pointing in the direction of the smaller boy, who now had crept into Sam's view. "I don't live here, I'm just stayin' here. Billy's daddy ain't home."

Sam was near-certain that these boys had called in the discovery of the body. What was their problem? He pressed on. "The Sheriff is mighty grateful to you boys, 'lettin' us know about that woman. Let me come in, I need to talk to you about it."

"We didn't do nothin' to her," the larger boy said, backing away slowly, reluctantly allowing Sam to enter. The trailer's interior was neat but shabby. The undersized couch at Sam's right was threadbare and spotted with stains. In front of him, on the crowded counter adjoining the kitchen sink, there was an open box of chocolate-flavored dry cereal.

"What's your name, son?" Sam addressed the larger boy.

"Jimmy Baugham," the boy replied. "We didn't do nothin' to her," he repeated.

"When you called us, it was still dark out," Sam said, watching both boys. "Did you find the woman this morning?"

The older boy's eyes blazed with fear. He said nothing.

"Billy," Sam said, patiently, addressing the smaller boy. "When'd you find her, Billy? Did you find her yesterday?"

"We wuz out yesterday," the smaller boy replied. Jimmy Baugham glared at him.