Chapter 25

I wore the cap from the parking lot of the plaza. I would have worn it out of the store, but that would have looked a little odd. Like walking across the parking lot in a deputy's uniform with a thug's knit cap. I couldn't fit my current baseball cap I had over the knit cap.

Since I couldn't wear both, I carried the knit cap in my hand. My first stop was to head back to the station for a larger baseball type hat. I figured with the shaved head and all, the Chief Deputy would be thrilled for me to cover it, eve if it meant a larger hat."

"Tell me Sylvia, what possessed you to shave your head? Please do not say sand fleas," he suggested.

"Chief Deputy my hair is so thin that when it gets wet it looks like a wet mop. I am not joking it looks like shit. It was wet for three days straight and I just lost patience with it. I have decided to let it grow back, but only to about an inch in length. That's why I need the knit cap and the larger ball hat," I said.

"Someone said you were thinking about a tat for your scalp?" he asked.

"I thought about it, but I want my hair about an inch and that would hide the tat," I explained.

"I can concur with the short hair, the knit cap, and even the flat chested look, but the tat I would have had a problem with," he said.

"Well, it won't be an issue. By the way I'm not trying for a flat chested look. I am simply wearing a full support bra just in case I have to run," I said. "Between that and the Kevlar, flat is what you get."

"Whatever, if you want to look like a guy you better be prepared to fight like a guy," he said.

"I hope I can fight better than the guy I'm fighting," I said honestly.

"Good point," Webster said.

From the Sheriff's supply room I went home to my motel room to change. I removed the uniform, and replaced it with worn jeans and a white tee shirt. I had also removed the elastic contraption called a full support or sports bra. I didn't replace it with anything. I wanted the guys to know I was a girl. They would be better able to tell, when I finally got more hair. My scalp was covered with what on a guy's face would be a two day growth. In other words just a shadow of color.

Once I was comfortble I pulled up a TV show from the night before on the computer. It was a silly comedy, but it was also what I was in the mood to see. I started the next day's coffee while I watched the show off and on. I reheated a large cup of the brew from the day before while counting the minutes until I could break my fast.

I planned on the roast beef sandwich as my meal for the day. Since it was from the store's deli, I expected it to be pretty good. They had made it for me with no lettuce or tomato, so it should microwave well. I had lots of little take out packs of condiments, should I really need the taste of tomato. More likely it would be barbecue sauce or maybe even taco sauce, the hot one of course.

I hung out on the computer until 8PM then I went for a walk through the lounge. "Hey Sarah, is everything quiet?" I asked.

"Yeah but it's a little early," she said.

"Well I have to get up at 5AM, so I'm headed to bed early. If you need anything call the Sheriff." I said.

"Okay, I can do that," she informed me. "Sleep well. By the way since you shaved your head have you had any offers to share your bed?"

"Why? are you thinking about doing it to?" I asked.

"Lord no, my hair is my one good feature. I was just curious," she said.

"I have had no fewer offers. Let's put it that way. The guys who wanted to screw me before still do, but no new ones," I informed her. "Now I'm going to bed to let my hair grow."

"Sweet dreams," Sarah said.

"Thanks," and with that I was out the door. It took me more than a few minutes to fall asleep. I spent the time wondering what had caused the big change in finances for the Allen family. I wanted to know what Allen did for a living. The loud behavior described by the neighbors seemed to have started about the same time 7 year old Jennifer went on the school's free breakfast program.

It also looked as though Gypsy started hanging out at the clubs around the same time. Was something going on at home she needed to get away from, or was she just pissed because her husband was up to no good at home. I was sure Simpson was trying to run all that down. To be honest, I wasn't sure that he was but I sure hoped that he was.

I would bet my wide ass that Monk knew something. A woman in a club will talk to the man who is buying her drinks. Most of the time she will tell him a lot more than she realizes. I should talk to Monk myself, but Simpson would be justifiably pissed. Not only would it call his ability into question, but it would put us back at each other's throat.

I would have to give it some serious thought before I stepped into that pile of steaming camel dung. However if I bumped into Monk at the lounge, I could certainly have a conversation with him. A really wide ranging conversation I would expect. I almost picked up the phone and tried to find Monks number. I didn't, because I needed to sleep and I needed to give that plan a lot more thought.