The Fallen by Ace Atkins

Author:Ace Atkins
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2017-07-17T16:00:00+00:00

18

Early the next morning, Skinner barged into the sheriff’s office, walking by Mary Alice and the Coca-Cola machine to stand right before Quinn’s desk. Quinn was on the phone, talking to a police chief down in Ridgeland about transporting a fella named Herrin J. Arnold back to Tibbehah after he’d been pulled over for speeding. Quinn wanted Herrin back in his jail after he’d ditched Jericho and broke into two more houses up in Yalobusha County. The police chief said Arnold smelled like a gosh dang rancid goat and would be more than happy to FedEx his ass, if possible.

Quinn hung up and looked up at Skinner. The man stood before him, plaid shirt with a pocket full of pens, khakis, and the Stetson. His face red and breathing labored.

“Don’t y’all speak English?” Skinner said. “I said I wanted Vienna’s shut down and locked up tight.”

Quinn didn’t answer the old man. He leaned back in his leather chair and crossed his arms over his chest. His ball cap up on the hat rack, .45 locked and loaded on his desk. He figured he could shoot Skinner, but Lillie always reminded him about the damn paperwork to follow. Quinn hated that paperwork.

“Before we shut it down, we’ve got to make a case.”

“What kind of case do y’all boys need?” he said. “They got live cooch shows going on twenty-four/seven down there. Doesn’t take Dick Tracy to see decency laws are being broken.”

“We sent a deputy by last night,” Quinn said. “Girls had on their G-strings, keeping five feet away from customers. Isn’t that the law?”

“You know gosh dang well they put on their britches when they saw y’all drive up,” Skinner said. “Don’t you boys know anything about undercover work? I seen a TV show, on that Cops program, where a man had a tiny camera in his hat. Surely y’all can figure something like that out.”

“Mr. Skinner,” Quinn said, giving the old man a little more respect than he deserved. “I have three deputies on at night. We have more than five hundred square miles of county to patrol. Between the family squabbles, the filling station thieving, and in general drug-induced mayhem over the weekend, we stay a little busy keeping people safe.”

“Do your job, Sheriff,” Skinner said. “That place is a disgrace to any decent person in this county. Or are you afraid of Miss Hathcock?”

“I’m not looking out for Fannie,” Quinn said, “if that’s what you’re saying. But that place was never built to cater to this county. That’s why it sits outside city limits near the highway. In an effort to protect and serve, I don’t give a shit if a traveling salesmen from Starkville gets his pecker pulled.”

“I don’t have time for that kind of filthy talk,” Skinner said, face growing even a deeper shade of red. “I knew you’d hide behind the excuse that that Hathcock woman engaged in a victimless crime. Do you know she threatened me before the board of supervisors with some

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