“ON SATURDAY SOME GHOUL MURDERED MY DOG.”
– Earl Emerson, Rainy City
Slim Jenkins lifted the phone: “Yea?”
“It’s Cindy, Sheriff, think you better come down to the office. Billy Fisher’s gone missing, and no one’s seen him or his vehicle since yesterday.”
“Why the blazes didn’t someone say something before now?”
“His wife’s here, Sheriff…” She whispered, almost apologetically. “What should I tell her?”
“Okay, okay… hold your horses, I’ll be down in ten; tell her to give Jonas a statement. And, Cindy, tell Jonas to tread softly, just in case Billy’s up to his old self and out carousing on company time. You hear?”
“Yes, Sheriff, I hear.” She rang off.
They were all good boys, but that was just it – they were boys, not men; or, at least they acted like it most of the time. “Dam,” he thought to himself. “What did Billy go off and do this time? Shit, seems I got to pick up the pieces for that boy time and again. This crap has got to stop.”
“Who was it honey,” Marie asked.
“Don’t worry your little head, sleepy girl; just lay back down and go to sleep for papa. I got to find Billy Fisher. Seems he’s out gallivanting down south again. His wife’s down at the shop. I got to go down sooth her soul a bit, and then find that nappy deputy of mine and give him all-billy-hell. You’d think grown men could change their own diapers, but no they need Big Daddy Slim to come down and assuage their wives, prepare the way for their return like prodigal sons arriving from an imaginary war.”
Marie laughed a little then turned her pillow up, and slumped back into its feathery comfort closing her eyes, saying: “Don’t you let them keep you out all night now.”
“I won’t, Hon,” he leaned over and gave her a quick peck on the cheek. “And anyway I need to get some paperwork done I’ve been putting off for a while now. Maybe Billy will show up while we wait around. I’ll make a few calls to the ladies down south where he usually goes. Probably nothing to it.”
At least he hoped there was nothing to it. But something seemed to crawl up out of the bed like a bug and finagle its way into his thoughts. That got him to worrying. And he didn’t like worrying at all.
He reminded himself to bless that boy out once he showed up again. But where was that boy? Dam!
©2016 S.C. Hickman
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