The Chain by Robin Lamont

Author:Robin Lamont
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Robin Lamont
Published: 2013-09-24T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 17

The County Sheriff’s Office occupied a nondescript brick building about a mile outside the town center. It was marked by two flagpoles planted in the grassy strip out front, one with an American flag, the other flying the red, white and blue blocks of the state flag. Both hung limp in the motionless air.

Jude took a seat in the waiting area, as directed by Belva Hinson, the hawk-eyed administrator at the front desk, who tartly informed her that Sheriff Ward was on the phone at present. While she waited, Jude was audience to two deputies who escorted a teenager from the holding cell in the back. Still too young to shave, the boy rubbed away some snot from the peach fuzz on his upper lip and hung his head. The officers handed Belva paperwork and chatted over his head as if he were an inanimate object. Jude began to bristle at their lack of empathy when one of the deputies put a fatherly hand on the boy’s shoulder and said kindly, “Come on, Romeo. Let’s get you arraigned and back to your momma before lunch,” reminding Jude that first impressions could be deceiving.

A few minutes later, Belva lifted the bifocals she wore on a cord around her neck and used them to point to a short hall behind her desk. “He’ll see you now. But he’s got to be in court in a half hour, so make it quick.”

Sheriff Grady Ward sat behind his desk looking quite unlike the man on the ridge with a gun in his hand. Still well-turned out with his snowy hair and mustache neatly combed, but no uniform and no gun, today in a business suit and tie.

“Thanks for seeing me,” said Jude, taking a chair on the opposite side of his desk.

Ward gave a small grunt, outwardly none too happy that he had agreed.

“Somebody broke into my hotel room last night. My camera, my computer, and a few other items were stolen,” she said, getting right to the point.

“Did you file a complaint?”

“I thought I should come see you first.”

“Miss Brannock, I run this office. If you want to file another complaint, talk to one of the deputies or tell Mrs. Hinson outside and someone will get over to the Motor Inn to take your statement.”

His reference to “another complaint” ruffled Jude, as it implied that being a victim of two crimes in such close proximity was an inconvenience. Moreover, she hadn’t said anything about staying at the Motor Inn. But then again, it seemed everybody in town knew. “I gather you’re aware of the damage done to my car yesterday,” she said.

“I am,” replied Ward, his eyes shifting to a report on his desk.

“Did anything come back on the blood?”

“It’s pig blood.”

“No surprise there,” said Jude. “You know, between what they did to my car and the break-in at the motel last night, I get the feeling that I’m not appreciated here in Bragg Falls. I understand the general antagonism, but

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