Chapter 14

Monday, June 28, 8:25 a.m.

Sheriff Mickelson had left a message on Sam's answering machine, asking that Sam join him for breakfast Monday morning, 8:30 at Herman's.

Sam wasn't a regular at Herman's, where the Sheriff, the Probate Judge, the State Representative and an array of local business people and retirees met virtually every weekday and many Saturdays. Sam didn't mind the stop. The Sheriff needed to be briefed, Herman's breakfasts were inexpensive, and they prepared the best home fries in town. Sam just hoped he and Lester could maintain some privacy in the bustling atmosphere of the cramped diner.

The Sheriff was holding forth with five other men in a booth built to accommodate four comfortably. When Sam appeared, Lester left the group immediately, and politely made clear that he and Sam were going to talk alone. Every seat in the place was occupied -- except for a back booth in the extreme rear. Lester headed for it, and Sam wondered whether the Sheriff had made advance arrangements.

Mickelson had been county sheriff for the past two terms -- seven years, with one more to go before the next election. He'd replaced the man who had hired Sam just one year earlier. Mickelson was not a professional lawman by training, and he had only one year of college up at East Carolina University. The Sheriff had never been a line officer, and he didn't participate actively in the investigation of cases.

But Lester, despite his folksy, mock-country manner, was a bright man who knew how to delegate responsibility. A decent administrator, he kept the Sheriff's Department on-budget and with good statistics. Sam had noticed that three of the five new deputies Lester had hired during his tenure were black -- one of them a female. Lester might be a Good Ol' Boy who loved to hang out at Herman's, but Sam had seen a lot worse officers, including some DEA hotshots who had operated at very high levels.

Most importantly, in the seven years they'd worked together, Lester had never once given Sam reason to doubt his integrity.

Both men ordered the number three breakfast -- two eggs (scrambled for Sam, fried over for Lester), country ham, and fried potatoes. Wheat toast for Sam, biscuits for Lester.

Over coffee, the Sheriff sat facing the restaurant's big plate glass front window. He was gazing at the departing form of Annie, their waitress. Sheriff Lester Mickleson took a deep breath and emitted a huge, theatrical sigh. "Y'know, Sam, I been comin' in here every morning for breakfast, forever. Herman must'a had this place the last, oh, ten-twelve years, now, anyway. That girl, there, Annie? She been workin' here almost that long. She come here, sweet and ripe as a cantaloupe -- better make that two cantaloupes." Lester giggled.

"Anyhow, now she's -- I dunno, maybe -- 36? She still some kinda good-lookin' woman, ain't she? And Sam. I never said one damned flirty word to her, 'all these years. 'Never pinched her on the butt, nor done any kinda wrong to her, any ol' way. I just been polite and nice as I could be. But Sam, there ain't never a day went by, I didn't watch that woman and say to myself, 'Ah, Jeez, that would be soooo nice! T' 'jis' -- y'know, Sam?

"... To yis' kinda, kinda put your arm around her and reach up 'longside there, under the arm-like, and 'jis' barely touch alongside them bosoms, there... 'Just barely tap-tap on that sweet..."

Lester sighed again. "'S funny, y'know? I knew that wadn't right, thinkin' that way. And that I should treat her with respect. Well. I did, Sam! I always have! 'Never no thought of sayin' anything that would embarrass her, or would let 'er find out what a sad old letch she had here, scarfin' them home fries and drinkin' her coffee every morning."

The Sheriff shook his head, as if to clear this own thoughts. "Oh, I look! I look at her every chance I get! But I try not to be too obvious about it, y'know? 'Was like ol' Jimmy Carter, there. I jis' lusted in my heart."

Another mournful sigh. "But the funniest thing, Sam! 'Few weeks ago, I hear her tellin' somebody how she's gettin' married! 'Next thing you know, why, Annie's missing in action there, four-five days. And then she's back here like nothin' happened, 'cept now she's got this wedding ring and is gigglin' around with them other waitresses and the women customers. Anyways, now everything's back pretty much to like it was and all, but... it's the strangest thing, Sam! It's like she

... y'know? Like... Well, it's like she jilted

me!"

The Sheriff's expression was apologetic, embarrassed. "I mean, I could be her daddy! Hell, I could be her granddaddy, if I'd started early! And God knows, she ain't never so much as had a' image in her mind about me as a objec' of her affections! But, just her bein' there, all that time, and unmarried and all? Y'know? 'S crazy, idn'it? She still some kinda good-lookin' woman, and I still never miss lookin' when she walks around in here, waitin' on folks... 'Greatest thing! 'Lot of times, she'll climb right up on them risers, there, inside the front windows?

"And she'll stand up there with the Windex bottle and them paper towels, wipin' down them windows. 'Wears them short skirts an' all, wipin' away on that plate glass.

"I mean, you don't really see nothin', y' understand. She's always got on them black stockings, or panty-hose, or whatever they are... But it's jus' so fine, Sam, lookin' at 'er! But now. Her gettin' married like that? It's changed things. Huh! I mean -- not for her. No. For me, though. It's like she's... left me, for another man! That's how I feel."

This time, Lester's sigh was barely audible. "I know how silly that sounds."

"I think I know what you're talking about, Lester. I've had feelings, kind of like that."

Annie was back with their orders. "Oh, my!" Lester said. "Look at them home fries! This is the place to be, Sam. This is the place!"

Lester was quiet while both men went after the breakfast. When he was finished, he sat back, sipped his coffee, and made certain that Sam, too, had stopped eating... "Well, anyway. Where are you on the case?"

Careful not to be overheard, Sam ran down the Sunday chronology in considerable detail, omitting the colorful particulars about the body's discovery by Billy Hemphill and Jimmy Baugham. Lester already knew about the coroner's findings, and the meager assistance they'd received to date from the state police.