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Authors: Gilbert Morris

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“No, but they must have followed me. Nobody could find
that swimming hole accidentally—especially when it was almost dark.”

Clay poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down. He did not look at her directly but stared down into the cup, swirling the black liquid. “Well, it’s come quicker than I thought.”

“What, Clay?”

Varek lifted his eyes. “I knew Max Conroy and his crowd wouldn’t let it alone. Obviously they’ve been following you, and that rag
The Daily Standard
will print anything.”

“I’ll have to resign.”

“No, you won’t.”

Jenny stared at him. “But what can I do?”

“You just keep on. You’ve got enemies, and now you know it. But don’t quit. That would be a mistake.” He got up suddenly and said, “I’ll get you some of my clothes. They’ll be too big, but better than that wet suit.”

Fifteen minutes later, Jenny, wearing Varek’s old clothes, sat in the front seat of his car holding Jamie. The child had awakened but had gone back to sleep again when they had gotten into the car.

As they drove along, Clay said, “You’ll have to put out a call about your car. It’s not going to look good.”

“No, I’ll look like an utter fool—which I am!”

“You’re not a fool, Jenny. You’re just not used to dealing with scum. Don’t let them run you off. You told me once you thought God put you in this place. Well, if God put you there, He can keep you there.”

Jenny did not speak. In her misery, the warmth of Clay’s words soothed her. She looked over to him and held the child tightly to her breast. “Thank you, Clay,” she whispered.

CHAPTER NINE

The Front Page

Lying flat on her back, Jenny stared up at the ceiling. The first gray lights of dawn filtered through her window, throwing a ghostly illumination over the high ceiling. Putting her hands up over her head and locking her arms together, she discovered that she was stiff and tense—as she had been most of the night. Her sleep had been broken by fantastic dreams almost like visions, and as she lay there trying to relax, she went over and over the events of the previous night. They seemed to come involuntarily, and she could not help watching them in her mind’s eye.

Suddenly she sat up and threw her legs over the side of the bed. She stared across the room but without seeing the gaily-colored wallpaper she had labored so hard to paste up. From somewhere far away came the mournful sound of a dog howling, as if to announce the coming of the new day—and on the heels of that, a rooster announcing that the night was over. “Get up—get up!” his crowing seemed to say. It was a sound Jenny ordinarily loved, but now she hardly noticed it. She tried to pray but discovered it was one of those times that the heavens seemed to be made of brass.

Getting slowly out of bed, she turned on the lamp, blinking at the brightness of the light, then looked up into the mirror. She had forgotten how terrible a black eye could look, and now she saw that the flesh surrounding her eye was still a rainbow coalition of red, orange, sickly yellow,
and brilliant purple. Tenderly she touched it, winced, then resolutely turned away.

Dressing quickly, she sat down, pulled out her Bible, and began to read. She was reading through the Old Testament and had reached the Third Psalm. Her lips moved as she whispered the words aloud:

“Lord, how are they increased that trouble me! Many

are they that rise up against me.

Many there be which say of my soul, there is no help

for him in God.”

She closed her eyes and tried to frame some sort of petition but was overwhelmed with a sense of self-pity. She shook her head angrily, muttering “This won’t do!” She began to read again and slowly the words began to sink into her spirit:

“But thou, O Lord, art a shield for me; my glory, and

the lifter up of mine head.

I cried unto the Lord with my voice, and he heard me

out of his holy hill.

I laid me down and slept—”

Suddenly Jenny felt the presence of the Lord in the room. She remembered the setting of the psalm, how David’s son Absalom, the dearest child he had, had raised a rebellion and was determined to kill his father. With a broken heart David had begun the psalm, but Jenny read again verse five: “I laid me down and slept . . .”

For a long time she sat there, her head bowed, thinking and meditating on the ancient king with his heart broken—yet he laid down and slept. She closed the Bible and prayed, “Lord, you’ll have to take care of me. Just let me make it through this day. In Jesus’ name.”

She rose, picked up her hat, then noticed Clay’s clothes she had worn the previous evening. Quickly she gathered them together, found a paper sack, and put them inside.

She went downstairs quickly and heard the sound of voices in the dining room. She hesitated for only a moment, dreading to go in but knowing that she had to. Putting the sack down in the hall, she went inside, and everyone turned to her. “Good morning,” she said brightly. “Sorry to be late.”

“We’re just ready to start eating, daughter,” Missouri said. She had one of the babies tucked under her arm. Jenny could not tell which one, for they were as alike as three coins. She went over and kissed the baby, who drooled at her and grinned toothlessly. “Which one is this one?”

“This is Temple.”

Jenny sat down and noted that Hannah was holding one of the triplets and her father another. Lewis bowed his head, and they all followed suit. After he asked the blessing and they began eating, Jenny was very much aware that everyone was quiet, trying not to look at her, but exchanging concerned looks among themselves. Missouri sat down and applied herself to the food, which included fried eggs, fried ham, biscuits, and red-eye gravy with blackberry and plum jam to sweeten it up. “The revival’s going to start next week,” Missouri said. “I’ve heard a lot about that evangelist. I want us all to go every night.”

Kat turned to Jenny and blurted out, “I can’t believe you let some fellers steal your car. Did you shoot at ’em? Or didn’t ya wanna shoot at your own car?”

“I wasn’t exactly wearing my holster at the time.”

“Did the guy taking the pictures steal it? Or was it someone with him?”

“I don’t know.”

“Leave your sister be, Kat,” Lewis commanded in a quiet but firm voice.

Clint said, “I’ll run you into your office this morning after breakfast.”

“Thank you, Clint.”

The meal proceeded, but suddenly the sound of a car
pulling up attracted their attention. Kat got up and raced to the window. “It’s Billy Moon in your car.”

Kat ran to open the door, and Moon entered the dining room. As usual he was immaculately dressed. He was a strong-looking, powerful man, and his shirt fit him like a second skin. “We found the car. It was abandoned. No harm done to it. I thought you might need a ride in.”

“Thanks, Billy. That’s a relief. I was afraid they’d trash it.”

Billy had a newspaper in his hand, and he tapped it against his leg. Jenny knew instantly what it was. “Is that
The Standard
?”

“I thought you might like to see it. It’s pretty bad.”

“Let me see it.” Jenny took the paper, opened it, and saw an enlarged picture of herself. She was wearing her one-piece white bathing suit and was staring directly into the camera. Her hair was wet and down, and she looked as startled as a deer.

“What does it say, Jenny? Read it to us,” Kat demanded.

“No, I don’t think so.” Jenny skimmed the story and then handed it over to Lewis. “Come on, Billy. I’m through here.” She left the room, and as soon as the car started up, Lewis began to read the story. The picture itself was not bad, but the headline said, “Yankee Sheriff Fighting Crime.” Al Deighton, the editor of
The Daily Standard
was close to Judge Hightower and a poker-playing friend of Max Conroy, the ex-sheriff.

“Is it bad, Lewis?”

“It’s bad enough.” He looked around and then shrugged. “You’ll all read it anyhow. ‘The county sheriff, Jennifer Winslow, has begun her career as a law-enforcement officer by taking swims in the river. This paper would have thought that there was plenty to do to keep a law-enforcement official busy, but apparently Sheriff Winslow is a lady of leisure. Of course, the sheriff is a New Yorker, and no doubt there the enforcement of the law is quite different from this part of the world.’ ”

Lewis read on and finally threw the paper down. “It’s malicious and cruel and stupid!”

“It’ll pass away,” Missouri said, coming over to lay her hand on Lewis’s shoulder.

Clint said, “I might pay that editor a little visit.”

“No, you stay out of it,” Hannah said quickly. “You’re not supposed to take up the offenses of others.”

“That’s right,” Missouri said. She moved the baby to her other arm and said quietly, “The Bible says we’re to pray for those that despitefully use us. When we do that, it puts coals of fire on their head.”

Kat’s eyes opened. “Well, then, I’ll pray for that old newspaper guy, and I hope the coals burn his brains out!”

****

Merle Arp and Arlie Pender had derived a great deal of satisfaction out of the story on the front page of
The Daily Standard.
They read it aloud in the sheriff’s office to Ruby French, who retorted angrily, “I don’t think that’s funny!”

“You don’t? Well, look at this picture. Say, the sheriff’s got a pretty nice-lookin’ body on her there.”

Arlie Pender laughed shrilly. “Ain’t many sheriffs look that good in a bathing suit.”

“She won’t be able to stay around after this,” Merle Arp said. He feasted his eyes on the picture and laughed coarsely. “The quicker she’s gone the better.”

Both deputies turned as the door opened, and Jenny walked through it with Billy Moon at her side. “Mornin’, Sheriff.” Pender grinned and made no attempt to hide the paper in his hand.

Jenny came to stand before him and knew she had to challenge him. “Did you check out the report on that still on the Donaldson place?”

Pender cast a quick glance at Merle Arp and spoke up. “Wasn’t anything there, Sheriff.”

“How do you know?” Jenny said, and her eyes were cold as polar ice.

“Why, we looked everywhere, and we couldn’t find it.”

“The mileage on your car shows you drove twelve miles yesterday. It’s sixteen miles to the Donaldson place. My arithmetic tells me that’s thirty-two miles at least.”

Arp’s mouth dropped opened, and then he said quickly, “Well, we used my car.”

“To save the county gas money?” Moon said. “First time I ever heard of you doin’ a thing like that.”

The two deputies could not meet the eyes of Jenny or Moon, and Jenny said, “I told you the first day I came here we were starting over—that nothing in the past counted. But you don’t seem to want that. If you two can’t do your jobs, I’ll find somebody else who can. Now, get out of here. Billy, give them something to do and see that they do it.”

Both Arp and Pender gave her poisonous glances, but they left without saying another word.

After they left, Ruby said, “Good for you, Sheriff. Those two are worthless.” Then she said, “I got a phone call this morning. The meeting of the finance committee was bad news. They cut our budget by ten percent.” She shook her head, a worried look in her eyes. “I don’t know how we’re going to make those cuts, Jenny. We’re working on a razor’s edge now.”

Jenny stood there for one moment. She felt humiliated, yet there was a flash of anger in her eyes as she said, “I know where we can cut. We’re paying two salaries, one to Legs and one to Mattie. I can cut that in two and hire one person.”

“Be careful. You’ll make an enemy of the judge.”

“He’s already my enemy. This won’t change anything.”

****

Noah was humming to himself as he mended the fence that ran around the chicken yard. From time to time the chickens
would gather, and he would say, “Shoo away, you chickens! You go get fat so I can have you for supper.”

The sound of a car caught his attention, and he turned to see the sheriff’s car pull up. At once a worried frown wrinkled his forehead, but then he saw Jennifer Winslow get out. He went to meet her at once. “Good mornin’, Miss Jenny. You’re out early this mornin’.”

“Doing a little fence mending, Noah?”

“Yes, ma’am, I am. A fox done got into this and et two of our chickens last night.”

“Noah, I want you to come to work for the sheriff’s office.”

If Jenny had announced to Noah that she wanted him to jump over the house, Noah could not have been more surprised. He doubted his own hearing for a moment, and he said, “You can’t mean that, Sheriff!”

“Yes, I do. Are you still working at the Elite Café?”

“No, ma’am, the cook, she came back yesterday.”

“Then you don’t have any job right now.”

“No, ma’am, just part-time things I get when I can.”

“All right, you’re the new jailer. You’ll be taking the places of two people, and you’ll have to do the work of two people.” She named the salary and saw his eyes open wide. “Will you do it?”

“You shore you want me to do this, Miss Jenny?” And suddenly he smiled. “Ain’t you noticed that I’m black?”

“I noticed that. What about it?”

“For a black man to take white folks’ jobs, it ain’t gonna set well.”

“You just be on the job early tomorrow morning, and I’ll take care of any trouble. Your job will be to clean up the jail and the sheriff’s office and to cook.”

“I’ll do my best, Miss Jenny, I shorely will!”

“Good! I’ll see you tomorrow.”

****

Raymond Dent had been rousted out of his office by
Jennifer Winslow. She had insisted he bring his camera, and when they went into the jail he said, “Why did you want me to bring my camera?”

“I want you to take pictures of this horrible mess.” At that moment Legs and Mattie came down the hall, and Jenny said, “You two are fired. Have your things cleared out of here in an hour. You can pick up your check from Ruby.”

Legs stared at her. “You can’t fire us. We’re kin to the judge!”

“The judge is not running this office! I am! You heard what I said. Mr. Dent, start taking pictures.”

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