Fire at Dusk: Part 12

The barley audible rumble of an engine passed through the cabin's walls. It grew progressively louder and then stopped. Moments later, three whacks echoed against the door. Roger opened the door and ushered the two figures inside.

“Evening Sheriff Bradford,” he said as the first of the figures entered the cabin.

“Evening,” the sheriff replied as he removed his hat and cupped it over his bulging midsection. He drummed on his leg with hist nightstick as he walked.

“Evening Sarah,” said Roger. The woman cleared her throat and glared at Roger as she passed by him. “Er... deputy Smith.”

“Evening,” she greeted and then winked at him.

The sheriff peered around the house as he wandered into the adjacent kitchen area. He reached for a can of beer sitting on the counter and popped the top, then took a swig. A few drops of beer clung to his mustache. After helping himself to a handful of chips he sauntered back to the living room and faced the crowd.

“Looks like you kids have been drinkin'. Celebratin' the big game eh?” inquired the sheriff.

“Yes sir,” replied Jim.

The sheriff paced around the living room. He stood beside Dick who lay passed out on the couch, and poked at an ashtray with the nightstick. “Seems you've been doing a bit more than drinking too. Say Jimmy, ain't you got yerself a bit of a temper? 'Specially when you've been drinking? I heard you and Parker weren't on such good terms lately. The way I see it, maybe you two got into a scuffle and it didn't end so well fer him. Maybe what happened to Parker was all just one giant misunderstanding.”

“It's not like that,” interjected Jessie. “That tree branch was sticking clean through his chest! There's no way any one of us could have done that.”

“Little lady,” said the sheriff as he turned toward Jessie, ogling her chest. “I'll be the judge of that.”