The Sheriff's Girl (Closed for CarnivalBarker)

[such_a_bad_man]

Dale Cummins stood in the back of the church, listening to the preacher wrap up things for his Sunday service. The wooden floorboards of the country church creaked under his boots as he strode up and down. Dale stared at them as he walked, going over what he was going to say when he was summoned inside. As he stared, he saw the scuff marks from the miles on miles of patrols he walked in these boots. The heat and the sweat worked the leather for years so they folded fairly well now and Dale couldn't see himself wearing anything else at this point.

He stretched once again as he walked, still trying to rouse himself so early on a Sunday. Being the town's new sheriff had been harder to adapt to than he thought. Then again, it wasn't his idea to become sheriff. Looking in through the door's window, Dale spied the man responsible for putting the badge on his chest. To the right of the preacher wrapping up the service, Dale saw the preacher's family, sitting in the front row as they always were. Kristen was leaning a little too heavy on the arm of the pew; she looked about as tired as Dale felt. Today might be the first time he's seen her in a few months; he hadn't seen her since the...

In a moment, his mind was taken back to the memory frozen in time. Dale tried to shake his head to clear it but he kept seeing it over and over, like a rat running lose in his mind. Pulling out his pack from his pocket, he sparked yet another Camel and pulled deep on it to try and clear his head. As he collected himself, he heard the door open behind him and one of the ushers nodded at him, letting him know it was time for him to speak.

Dale nodded and dropped the still semi-fresh cigarette on the deck before stepping inside. Walking in relative silence toward the front, Dale turned as he stood beside the preacher. "Thank, Reverend. Good morning everyone. I want to thank y'all for giving me just a moment of your time this morning. I know you are all God-fearing people, but I also know that we live in the real world. I got some information faxed to my office today from the FBI office in Oklahoma City and I feel the need to share this with as many people as I can. You'd be doin' me a huge favor passin' this information on. Now, I'm not tryin' to get anyone in trouble with the law; I just don't wanna see anyone I know get hurt. The word is that there's a new sorta drug coming into the county from the city. It's being sold as Ecstasy but isn't. It's chemically different and can have very painful side-effects. I got some printouts of what it looks like and it's got my office's number on it if anyone knows anything."

Dale went up an down the rows, handing out the print outs. He could see in their eyes that most people had no idea what he was talking about or even who they would need to share this with. Dale was fishing and he knew it. He just didn't know any better way to get the word out in town. When he got back to the front and handed the remaining paper to Kristen, however, he saw something in her eyes. Something bordering on recognition, but Dale couldn't be sure. He simply nodded to her, but he wasn't sure why. I could have been a nod or greeting or understanding or simply something he did because he didn't know what to say. Either way, he stepped to the front and looked at the congregation.

"Once again, thank you for your time. If anyone has any questions or comments, I'll be out front by my cruiser. Thank you."

Dale slipped his wide brimmed hat on his head as he strode back up the aisle, pushing through the doors. When he was finally back outside, he drew a long deep breath; ever since he got back from Afghanistan, Dale hated being in front of people like that. Still, it was his job as sheriff to see to the people of his county.

 

[CarnivalBarker]

Kristen dragged herself out of bed and launched herself across the room to shut off the alarm that was blaring in her head. The alarm stopped immediately, and she collapsed back down onto her back and groaned as the headache hit her hard. The night before had been only a mild party, but the vodka, pills, and champagne had left her struggling on the worst day possible.

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At twenty-one, she managed to live on her own, though that only meant staying in the small quarters at the back of her father's property, all of which had been donated as a parsonage when they had come to town years ago, when she had only been eleven. The rent was cheap, since it was free, and it allowed her the freedom to come and go, though she still at times felt under the all-too-watchful eye of her father, the local minister of the largest church in Mandeville, Louisiana, north of New Orleans. Her father had been hesitant to come here back then. His worries were that his daughter would be too tempted by the evils and ills of the Gulf Coast and New Orleans, in her formative years, and that the area would put too much strain on his family. He had been right.

As she had grown older, Kristen had been subject to all the whims, desires, and distractions that any other teenager in America would be. And the stifling watch of her father made her desire to explore such things grow. Now, working at a local diner by day and a different bar, waiting tables at night, she wanted nothing more than to get out of town and end the feeling of judgment and disappointment she sensed not just around her family, but around the congregation that made up most of the town as well. She simply didn't have the means, and her grades in high school had never been enough to pull her away from home. The tiny two bedroom living space was her most available mode of freedom and when she turned seventeen, she had moved in without so much as asking her parents. The arrangement worked, but just barely. She was still expected to go to church, because her father knew when she didn't, of course, and today she in no way wanted to do any such thing.

She forced herself into the kitchen and took a heavy dose of water with some Aleve, then managed a shower before fixing her hair as best she could. She could fake her condition outwardly, though once in the pews, she would make no guarantee.

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Kristen found her way down the path to her parents house, then nearly passed out in the van on the way to church, saying as little as possible, her father no doubt aware of her condition, though giving up on lectures years ago, so long as she "behaved." No drugs, no alcohol, no sex, at least in his sight, and by all means, stay out of jail. Those were his line in the sand. A pair of sunglasses and a dismissive attitude, at least on Sundays, were hers.

The sermon and service, went as usual, and Kristen leaned hard on the rail of her pew, agonizing over making it to a time when she could go home, change into something more casual, and take a long, nap. Her attention perked up slightly as Dale Cummins, the new Sheriff, or at least the newest one, approached the pulpit. Mandeville had difficulty keeping law enforcement - the town was too small, and so was the pay, and for that it had no difficulty attracting crime. A decade ago, there had been rumor even of a serial killer in the surrounding parish, but the rumors were dispelled when the four missing men each returned from respective hunting trips they had taken without telling their wives. Since that time, the crime was annoying, and often unsettling, but not enough to make the front pages. She wondered why Dale was here, both in Mandeville and in church this morning.

"Thank, Reverend. Good morning everyone," Dale began before telling the gathered about a new drug threatening the children of the Gulf Coast. Kristen smirked at another holier-than-thou warning by authorities and, likely, her dad. But she listened attentively. "The word is that there's a new sorta drug coming into the county from the city. It's being sold as Ecstasy but isn't," Dale continued.

Please pass out samples, the girl thought, amused by herself and watching as Dale began handing something out. He circled the rows, then passed by her, handing a sheet to her as well. It showed small, tiny stamps featuring the red and black impression of the devil on some, a burning fire on others, and on the third, something that looked like a tiny red dot, alone, beside an arrow pointing to the letter E. Kristen thought back to a week before, when she had attended the monthly rave thrown at Farmer Trenton's barn on the far outskirts of the city. Farmer Trenton had been dead for years, and since that time, his estate had been tied up in probate. Every effort to keep people off of his 275 acres proved impossible, and local organized dealers and college, even high school, kids, managed to break in and have a rave sometime each month. She vividly remembered seeing a stamp with the devil, on it, and it looked like the one on the paper. Nobody there had died, and she had not known of any complications from drugs after the party. She had ingested her share, content to roll the night away, dancing to the electronic beat in her black skirt and tiny top, her neon orange thigh high fishnets and rainbow colored bracelets beaming through beneath the black light to fill the darkness with a glow as bright as anyone else in the massive barn. It had been a great party. And after too many pills and vodka, she had managed to have her friend Lindsay drop her off at home, where she slept until 2pm the next day, thinking nothing of it. She decided not to narc on anyone there, and let Dale finish his speech.

"Once again, thank you for your time. If anyone has any questions or comments, I'll be out front by my cruiser. Thank you." The Sheriff left the church, and the group proceeded with communion. The service ended, and Kristen passed through the front doors, content to wait for the rest of the family as her father greeted everyone one at a time. As she stood in the sunlight, she turned to see Dale, where he said he would be, by his vehicle. She wandered over, curious, but cautious as not to reveal anything due to any number of reasons.

"Hey Sheriff," she said, grinning. Dale was cute, though he was older, and Kristen enjoyed the tease that she knew she could be with the simplest of gestures. At times, her teasing had gotten her trouble, and at others, it had gotten her everything. Today, she simply wanted information. "Has anyone reported that stuff here in Mandeville yet? The stuff on the handouts?" She knew it was here. She had seen it. But she also wanted to know what he knew, and who might be involved. At minimum, if any of her "friends," or suppliers were in the mix, she wanted to be careful herself while out in the scene. The next party would be in several days, and she planned on being there.

https://squareportal.files.wordpress.com/2012/06/camilla-luddington.jpg

 

[such_a_bad_man]

Dale was leaning against his squad car, trying to finish a cigarette before the church let out and ruined the peace of the parking lot, when Kristen walked over. Her lips were full of questions which caught him off-guard. He hadn't said more than two words to her since her brother Garrett's funeral last year; he never knew what to say. Now, she was coming over, sounding concerned about this new creeping threat to her town. Dale didn't think she cared; maybe he was wrong.

"If it's here, my office will be the last to know it seems. It took a dispatch from outside to tell me about it. On top of that, it's just me and two other deputies for the whole county. It's just too many cracks in the wall to keep an eye on." Dale lamented. He saw why the last sheriff didn't bother to run for re-election. Being sheriff in this town was a lot like trying build a sand castle with the tide rolling in. Dale pulled on his cigarette one more time before standing up and stepping closer to Kristen. Dale had a good foot of height on her and towered over her slightly, but Dale wasn't the sort to throw that weight around unnecessarily. It's probably why he was doing so well as sheriff so far.

He looked into her eyes as he spoke softly. "I could really use the inside track on this thing. Reports out of OKC and Dallas are that there's already been at least 13 people dead off takin' this stuff." Dale gestured to his hand outs. "I don't want anyone I know getting hurt off this stuff if I could have stopped it. You understand?" Dale saw that look in Kristen eyes as he handed her the papers. He had a feeling she knew something, but he couldn't be sure. She and Garrett had the same tell when they were lying and Dale always took her brother's poker money.

"If you think of anything, just swing by the office. If I'm not there, Janet will be there and let me know so I can head back. It'll just be a conversation. Like I said in there, I'm not looking to get anyone in trouble. I just don't want anyone to get hurt." Janet was the perennial desk admin. She had kept the sheriff's office running for the better part of 25 years.

Dale got pulled away by the next wave of concerned citizens that wanted to talk to him about their theories about who was bringing in this new "Devil's Drug" as they were already calling it. The first couple was sure that truckers that stop outside of town brought it in. The next were sure "the Jenkins boy" at the high school was bringing it in, simply because he "looks the type". Dale played the politician role of his office and tried to allay people's fears. He was seeing that his effort to educate the people to help keep the people calm wasn't having the effect he had intended. He spent the next few hours talking to everyone, trying to be diplomatic, before he was able to "escape" and get back to his office.

Dale pulled the door open to his office, greeting Janet as she looked up from her desk. Walking through the small dividing wall, Dale opened the door to his office and collapsed into his chair. Spending so much time with the people in town was just exhausting. 'Maybe I should take the day off... it is Sunday,' he thought to himself as he looked out at yet another perfect day on the bayou. Since the most pressing problem was a stray dog being spotted on Main and Homestead, Dale told Janet to call him if anyone called in on his way out the door, less than 30 minutes after arriving.

So it went for the next few days; Dale fell back into his routine of patrols and phone calls. It was a Wednesday when he stumbled into the diner during Kristen's shift. Ordering a coffee and pie, he set up shop and just watched the folks come and go about their daily business. Then, he caught sight of Kristen; it wasn't chance that brought him there. It was a few days and she still hadn't come around. 'She might not know anything, Dale,' he told himself as he watched her walk around and handle her job. Still, he waited to see if she came over.

 

[CarnivalBarker]

Kristen stood and listened to Dale, careful to be very non-committal. She had no desire to work on the inside for the cops, for doing so could be very bad for her, or anyone, inside the rave scene. It was dangerous enough already. She gave him no response when his words veered toward solicitation of her assistance.

"I could really use the inside track on this thing," he said. "Reports out of OKC and Dallas are that there's already been at least 13 people dead off takin' this stuff." Her mind raced at that idea.

No way, she thought to herself. If it was, indeed, what she had taken at the last party, she either had a seriously obscene tolerance, or it just wasn't anything to worry about. She figured the hysteria surrounding any new drug was always like that with "adults," and she just didn't buy that number. Besides, where were the news stories about this, if that were true. The Sheriff continued, shaking her out of her trance just a bit.

"I don't want anyone I know getting hurt off this stuff if I could have stopped it," he continued. "You understand?" She gave a grin, pretending to be the innocent. Her words would forever announce her innocence, though her eyes belied the truth.

"Yes, Dale," she said, using his name and not his title.

"If you think of anything, just swing by the office," he concluded.

"I will," she smiled, brushed her hair out of her face and behind her ear, and turned to walk away. "I promise," she lied. As she rode home in the back of her parents' car, she pulled up information about the new drug on her phone, and found very little information, confirming her suspicions. She quickly texted a friend, Taylor Maldives, a local small time hood who she frequently encountered at the club and rave scene. She had no doubt that Taylor wanted to fuck her, though she rarely entertained his advances, unless he would give her free weed, and even then she was not going to sleep with him. He wasn't her type.

Hear about this new 'Devil's Drug?' She waited silently as her parents prattled on about something someone had said after service, about which she could not bring herself to care. Her phone warbled.

How much do you want? Came Taylor's reply. Kristen raised her eyebrows. Apparently Taylor had tapped into the vein and knew the supplier. She wondered if he was the supplier in the area. She doubted it, as he had rarely offered much more than the occasional wine cooler and joint to anything underage and/or with a cute enough ass and low enough self-esteem to make him think he had a chance. She chose not to reply. She knew she would see him Thursday.

She thought little of either conversation the next few days, until she saw Dale walk into the diner Wednesday afternoon, only hours before she was to finish the afternoon lunch shift and begin the night shift double she had somehow been scheduled to work. He spent precious little time talking to the few people in the place, making his way to the counter, where he sat, quickly being handed a piece of pie and coffee. Kristen refilled the glasses at her table, before making her own way back to the counter to ring out a tab.

"Hey Sheriff," she said, returning to a more proper address in the presence of others. "Still chasin' the devil?" She asked, with a wink, before closing the register and casually walking past him returning change to an old couple who would, no doubt, leave very little tip. When she returned, she began counting more cash to place in the till, casually chatting him up, across the bar.

"I haven't heard anything on the streets," she told him. "But I don't really party, much," she brushed her hair out of her eyes, lying once more. "But if you find anything, share," she grinned, joking. "I could use it for the long night tonight." She closed the register again. "After-church crowd, you know?" She wiped the counter and moved directly across from Dale as she did. She leaned over and re-filled his coffee, showing just enough of her low-cut top to possibly throw him off topic and off the conversation that was being carried over from the Sunday prior. "Don't tell daddy," she said. "But they're not really my type," she winked, before returning to the kitchen to make more coffee.

 

[such_a_bad_man]

"Hey Sheriff. Still chasin' the devil?"

The first time she spoke to him, she naturally kept it light. Her teasing tone was something he had gotten used to around town as he had been working any leads he'd been given on who or where this new drug was making its way into the county. He bristled a little, but more because he was mad at the seeming lack of help he was getting around town, as well as the overwhelming support of people who had their own agenda about "those people". Who "those people" were seemed to differ depending on who he was talking to, but it wasn't useful in tracking down the source of this new drug. He was about to respond when Kristen continued.

She was very good at talking and working and handling customers. Dale admired her work ethic; it was good to see on her. He kept an eye on the till as she made change for the Wilsons from the North side of town. They had sold off most of their land to a factory farm on that side of town and were living off of it in retirement. He nodded to Mr. Wilson as he and his doting wife turned to leave. Turning back to Kristen, she had continued without acknowledgement from him.

"I haven't heard anything on the streets, but I don't really party, much. But if you find anything, share; I could use it for the long night tonight."

Dale smiled at her jest. She never did strike him as the partying type; maybe he was wrong about that look in her eye on Sunday. She worked so hard at two jobs; there was no way she'd have the energy for a party like that.

"Well, then I'd have to take you in for possession, wouldn't I?" Dale joked back. "Thanks for keepin' your ears open anyway. I was just fishing anyway. I can't imagine anyone I know getting involved in that sort of thing. Can't blame me for throwing some hooks in the water, can you?" Dale leaned back from the counter a little and stretched and sipped his coffee. He'd been in his squad car all morning going up and down highways and streets so he felt a little tight all over. He turned and watched Kristen again.

When he got back into town way back when, Kristen and her folks were among the first people he met with. Even in the haze of what had happened, Dale had noticed the woman his best friend's sister had turned into. She wasn't the awkward high school teenager anymore; she was a woman. There was no denying it as she moved about her work in the diner. He drew a deep breath as he watched her, wishing things had been different. He turned back to his coffee before she caught him staring. That was the last thing he'd need now. She could take care of herself and he didn't wanna turn her attitude against him.

"After-church crowd, you know? Don't tell daddy, but they're not really my type."

This time, he was sure that Kristen caught him looking as his eyes naturally dipped to the gap between her top and her chest as she bent down to get some elbow grease into her work as she wiped down the counter. Dale looked up into her eyes and swallowed, waiting for a slap or a comment. When that didn't come, he picked his cup up and sipped it to clear his dry throat.

"I didn't know you had a type already. I would have thought you'd want to see the world before you settled on a type." Dale said with a grin. He played along, but he didn't want to leave until they had more of a talk about what was going on in town.

"Surely, it's not the type to deal in these sorts of party favors. I certainly hope it's not that Maldives fellah. Your brother would flip his lid if he saw you hanging out with him." Taylor Maldives. Every few weeks he'd get a call from the liquor store with news that they thought Taylor was buying booze for minors again. One of these days, Dale felt it in his gut that Taylor was going to do something stupid and he'd finally get the chance to lock him up for a while. Someday...

Dale looked up at Kristen, silently willing her to tell him something, anything, so he could feel like he was helping out around town. That was the most frustrating thing about the job so far: the feeling of uselessness. So far the only meaningful thing he'd done was finally get Kelly Horton thrown in jail for hitting his wife. Leeann Horton had moved out of town since then and was living closer to her folks in New Orleans. If nothing else, he'd at least be able to look back on that as a good thing during his time in office.

 

[CarnivalBarker]

"I didn't know you had a type already. I would have thought you'd want to see the world before you settled on a type," the Sheriff said. Kristen noticed his eyes taking her in. She didn't mind. He was older, but not even middle aged and for a guy his age, or any age, he looked good. She enjoyed a good flirt, more so if it was with someone she found attractive.

"Surely, it's not the type to deal in these sorts of party favors," he continued. "I certainly hope it's not that Maldives fellah. Your brother would flip his lid if he saw you hanging out with him." Her eyes grew narrow as the Sheriff's words struck like a lance. She wondered what, if anything he knew. She also worried that if he was on the trail of Taylor Maldives, then Taylor might suspect she had told him and she had been careful to do no such thing. Odd though that Dale would throw out a random name that struck squarely on the nose of the matter.

"Talyor Maldives?" She asked, playing dumb, as if she had never known the small time dealer. "I haven't heard...." she stopped herself. For someone who had heard nothing, she revealed too easily that she had been having conversations about the topic at hand. "Well, I mean, I don't know anyone that's selling that stuff." She paused and straightened imaginary wrinkles in her apron. "Haven't seen any of it," she continued to lie. No sooner had she done so than Taylor Maldives himself, along with two large, unfamiliar men, entered the diner and sat at a booth along the far wall.

"Kristen, honey," called Darla, one of the hostesses. "Will you get them?" She asked, nodding toward Maldives.

"Uh, yeah," she replied. She quickly walked over to the booth. "Coffee gentlemen?" She acted like she didn't know anyone at the table.

"Hey Kristen," Taylor said, a creepy lilt to his voice. "Gonna have a date at the barn tomorrow?" He asked. Her eyes darted toward her right and over her shoulder where the Sheriff of the County at.

"Shut up Taylor," she seethed through clenched teeth. The boy nodded. "Three coffees comin' up!" She turned and wheeled toward the bar once again. "Coffee to go, Dale?" She batted her eyes, hoping he would do anything she asked and say yes before vacating the building. The situation was suddenly uncomfortable. Meanwhile, at the booth by the windows, one of the men with Taylor Maldives leaned forward toward him.

"Who is she?" The man asked.

"She is the preacher's hot little girl," he said. "She's about nineteen. Fresh. Probably enjoy a night or two on the stuff if I can get her to try it. Hopin' she'll show up." He looked her direction.

"Why is she talking to the Sheriff?" The man asked. Taylor, who still hadn't picked up on her hint or his surroundings, opened his eyes wide.

"What?" He asked.

"If you are fucking with us and setting us up," the man said, "then you won't be alive Friday to make any orders for new goods. Got it?"

"I'm not," Taylor said. "I didn't notice his car out front," he continued. "And she's a good girl. She parties."

"She better," the third man in the booth said. "With you and not the cops."

 

[such_a_bad_man]

"Talyor Maldives? I haven't heard.... Well, I mean, I don't know anyone that's selling that stuff Haven't seen any of it."

Dale looked up from his coffee as he caught the look in Kristen's eyes. He was just throwing out a name of the local ne'er-do-well as an example of someone that Kristen shouldn't hang out with. From her reaction, she seemed shocked by his stab in the dark, but Kristen would never hang out with a guy like Taylor... would she?

Then there was her choice of words. She first sounded like she hadn't heard and then she didn't know. Those are two very different statements. In the former case, she knew people in the drug scene and no one was talking about it. In the latter, she didn't know anyone and she wouldn't be party to any such conversation. These mixed signals were getting slightly frustrating. If only he could get her alone so he could talk with her honestly about this. He was about to follow up on that comment when he was cut off.

"Kristen, honey," called Darla, one of the hostesses. "Will you get them?"

Dale sighed as Kristen was pulled away by her job. He knew he wasn't going to get long with her, but his window just slammed shut with the arrival of new customers. He'd have to wait again for another opportunity soon. He was out of pie and he couldn't nurse his coffee much longer. The town might be a sleepy place, but even he couldn't justify hanging around all day just to try and pick Kristen's brain about this drug thing.

He frowned and watched her fetch the coffee pot and walk to the table where the new arrivals sat themselves. As she walked, Dale had to admit that the swish of her hips under the waitress skirt was hard to ignore. He shook his head to keep from staring; it was like staring at his kid sister. Then again, it wasn't his...

Well, speak of the Devil and he appears. Dale's eyes looked away as she stopped and, sure enough, Taylor Maldives was sitting in the booth. He couldn't make out who the other two were that sat with him. They had picked the side facing away from him much to Dale's dismay. With all this talk of a new drug and now the arrival of two new faces with a known crook like Maldives, Dale was ready to haul all three of them down to his office and have a chat with them all. Suddenly the radio on his shoulder sparked to life for once and Janet was looking for a call-back.

"Go ahead, Janet..." Dale said in the mic.

"Sorry Sheriff, but the alarm down at the bank is going off. You better get over there and see what's going on," came Janet's news.

Dale sighed in frustration as he looked back at Taylor and his friends. "You sure that Harry or Bill can't get over there?"

"Sorry, Harry's up on the bypass with an accident and Bill is out on a call at the Lamont farm. Someone plowed through one of their fences again."

Dale hung his head and cursed Taylor's luck. Once again, he'd gotten away from him. 'For now...' Dale told himself as he stood up, fishing the cash for his tab out of his pocket. "Alright Janet, I'm on my way. Say... 5 minutes." It wasn't going to take him long to get there. The bank was on the other side of "downtown" or so they called it.

"Coffee to go, Dale?"

"Yeah, I'm afraid so, honey. I gotta go be a sheriff for a minute. Someone forgot how the bank's alarm when they were shutting up for the day, but I gotta go make sure that's all it is," Dale said as he laid out enough for his tab and a 25% tip. He didn't try and abuse his office for free pie and coffee. He'd just feel weird about it.

"Just... think about what I've been saying, okay? And please come find me if you're ever in a bind over something, alright?" Dale said softly to her. As he did, he felt a pair of eyes on him and looking up, he saw Taylor staring at him. It wasn't anger or cockiness he saw. It was... worry. Taylor didn't like Kristen talking to him for some reason. He'd have to figure it our later though; for now, he was just grasping at straws and trying to follow his hunches. He didn't have anything and if he pursued it, this might blow up in his face.

"See ya, Darla," Dale yelled to the other waitress on his way out the door. As he turned to push it open, Dale left with a very pointed look in Taylor's direction. 'I'm going to take you down, son,' he thought as he pushed through the door and walked around back to his squad car.

Sure enough, the bank alarm was caused by a new teller that got the sequence out of order to allow himself out the door before the alarm armed and the doors triggered. It wasn't any big thing and after a sweep inside, Dale gave the all clear to the alarm technicians and the other workers that were waiting around due to protocol regarding the money handling at the end of the day.

Dale went home not long after that, checking in at the office one last time beforehand. As he wiled away the night, he stared a hole through the floor, trying to think about who and how these drugs were going to get into the county. Not coming up with a good story, Dale went to bed, his unquiet mind keeping him from sleep. The next day was pretty routine: patrols around town, cats stuck up trees, dogs run off, etc. Thankfully, the weekend meant that the weekend crew would be on duty and he might get some rest for a change.

 

[CarnivalBarker]

Kristen pulled on some black net stockings over one then the other leg, leaving about ten inches between where they stopped and where the neon green piping around her black boy shorts began. She affixed a tiny, pink and white skirt that was more for design than coverage, just before adjusting the matching green and pink, sporty bra top. Earlier in the day she had weaved several pink, green, and yellow strands of ribbon into her brown locks, and she was ready to apply a smoky eye makeup cover to her naturally pretty face. Once that was done, she pulled some neon yellow heels on over her stockinged feet and gave herself one more look in the mirror.

"Hmphf," she huffed, as she looked at her stomach. Though most would not have noticed the slightest bit of fat, or said anything negative about her attractiveness, she didn't feel as cute as she had in the past. She didn't feel fat, but she didn't feel she was were she wanted to be. And it was this nagging feeling that would lead her astray hours later when she arrived at the barn for the rave. After changing clothes at her friend Jessica's house to avoid the prying eyes of her parents who, even across an entire plot of land still felt too close for her comfort, she hopped outside to her car and headed to meet up with several others before going to the party. As she arrived, the music was already thumping loudly and she could see the glowing party favors waving through the darkness as the partygoers rolled, high on ecstasy for who knows how long. She checked her phone. It was only 11:30. The rave would not truly begin in earnest until close to 1, when the hardcore that would stay until the earliest hours of the morning would just arrive, filling the barn with lithe, active bodies, the promise of recreational drugs to even the most casual of users, and the loudest music of the night. Kristen stuffed her phone in her purse and roamed inside.

"Have you seen Taylor?" She asked a girl who she had often danced by at raves past, but whom she had not been close to.

"Out back!" The girl shouted over the noise. Kristen thanked her and wandered through the back of the barn to the open lot behind it

"Who do we have here," she heard a man's voice that she did not recognize as she stepped under a flood light quickly, before returning to the dark as she walked toward three men standing at the far end of the lot.

"Go back inside," she could recognize Taylor's voice.

"I need to see you," Kristen said, speaking into the dark abyss between her and them. Two of the men erupted in laughter.

"She needs to see you," one of them said.

"I said go inside," Taylor repeated. "I'll be inside in a second." Her hands trembled around her clutch purse, wondering what she had walked into. She stopped to turn around when she heard a click.

"No, honey. Come over here," one of the voices said. She saw a pistol raised in her direction.

"Kristen, get inside," Taylor's voice echoed. "Now."

"I said, no," the man's voice repeated, the gun now pointing at Taylor.

"Look, man, I will get you the money," he said. "We do not have to do this now." Kristen remained frozen.

"Come over here, darlin'," the voice said, as the other of the three men approached her and blocked her retreat to the door, removing that option. She began walking toward where Taylor stood. "On your knees," the man said, now speaking to Taylor. Though he remained in the shadows, Kristen could only make out that he was taller than Taylor, perhaps 6 feet in height, and he seemed to have jet black hair. The other man, now escorting her to where they stood, was not any taller than she was, though he looked strong as a bull. She had not seen either of them before.

"Look," Taylor said, getting down on his knees. "Don't do this!" He lunged for the man's gun and as he did, the man by Kristen's side ran to where Taylor was, as the two wrestled over the weapon. Kristen's eyes grew wide and she sprinted back toward the entrance to the barn. Before she got there, she heard a shot fired, then a second one. The sounds were measured, deliberate. She did not turn to see Taylor's lifeless body crumble to the ground.

"Stop her," the voice that earlier had the gun said, cold and also deliberate. Kristen raced inside and up the stairs to the overhead rafters where she fell in line with a number of other club goers. From her vantage point, the door beneath her opened a bit, and she could not make out the face of the men peering inside from the shadows. To anyone in the barn, some smoker had stepped outside and was likely now coming in. To the killers, each tiny girl, of which there were dozens, all dressed in some neon color or other, glowing under the black lights with a requisite party favor in their hair or hands, could have been the witness to their crime. She could tell they were discussing something as the door remained perched open. A moment more and the two men stepped inside, and paced in the darkness quickly along the side of the barn's walls and out the front entrance. Kristen caught her breath and immediately did not know what to do. She popped a Xanax from her purse and found a couple of people she had seen at parties before. One of them, a boy, wrapped his arm around her, his hand coming down on her lower back, particularly low and threatening to begin running along her ass. On a normal night, she would have welcomed the attention. Tonight, she needed something more.

"I need X," she said, leaning forward to shout in his ear above the loud bass beat. The boy leaned back to her.

"Gonna cost you," he shouted, before reaching in his pocket and placing a pill on his tongue before flashing it toward her, as it sat perched square in his mouth. Kristen simply nodded. The boy leaned in and pressed his mouth to his, mingling his tongue into hers as she kissed him back, enough to let him feel like he'd been paid as his hands ran over her sides, her ass, and over her breasts before running back to her hips. She didn't care, because the pill she swallowed from his lips would take her mind away from where she was and what was about to become of her life. Ten hours later, she woke up on the couch of the boy who had served as her supplier for the night. Her leggings were off and her panties crumpled in a heap nearby as she wore only a shirt that he had loaned her. Her body was tender, but not sore, and she had no doubt, but also no memory, that she had let him fuck her in exchange for the pills he provided. She ran her hand through her hair and sighed. It wasn't the first time she had made a poor decision. She quietly gathered her clothes and pulled on her shorts once more, found her shoes, and looked outside, where her car sat. Someone, somehow had gotten her here and had the wherewithal to take her car. She hoped to god she hadn't driven in such an impaired state, knowing the boy, or one of his friends, had likely driven them all and crashed in the house with a concubine for the evening of his own. She didn't care, staying only long enough to find her keys and leave. As she turned into her drive and began passing through the acreage road that led right past her parents house, she didn't care a bit about whether or not she was in trouble. She pulled her phone from her console and dialed the Sheriff's Office.

"Sheriff Cummins, please," she said. The woman on the other end of the line asked if it was an emergency. "Yes it's a goddamn emergency!" She snapped, finally realizing the gravity of what she had seen the night before. "I.......there's a.......a body."

 

[such_a_bad_man]

Dale sat on the side of his bed, resting with is body propped up by his arms on his legs. Once again, he'd had a restless night. Even knowing that he'd had the day off, he couldn't sleep for more than a few hours at a time. He kept waking up through the night, new ideas and theories regarding the new drug coming into town. Now, it was morning and there was no way to get back to bed. Dragging himself into the kitchen, he put the coffee on and flopped down to watch the news. As usual, nothing from town was on the news since the TV station was based out of Baton Rouge. As he waited, Dale's morning ritual was interrupted by a squawk from his radio. With a groan, he reached over and picked up the mic.

"Go for the Sheriff," he muttered into the mic, still not 100% awake yet.

"Hey, Sheriff, sorry to interrupt your day off, but we got a call this morning from someone that wanted to talk to you and only you," Janet told him over the radio.

"Are you sure that the weekend relief can't take the call?" he asked, not wanting to be Sheriff today.

"Sorry, the person said they had to talk with you. They have a line on a body and possible murder," Janet explained.

Dale breathed a long deep sigh. "Janet, that's the sort of thing you should lead with," he replied acerbically. "I'll be on my way in 20."

He put his radio down and pushed himself up to his feet, tilting his body in the direction of his shower. About 30 minutes later, Dale stepped out on this porch in uniform. Sipping his thermos of coffee, he stomped down to the truck and drove off towards the preacher's land.

Dale eased up the driveway, hoping that he wouldn't have to talk with the preacher. He'd rather just find out what Kristen knew and leave as soon as he could. If he had to take Kristen with, he wasn't too concerned with how it might look. His job was law enforcement, not gossip management. As his truck rolled up the drive, he kept his eyes on the preacher's house. As a result, he very nearly ran the man down as he was out walking his fence first thing in the morning. With all the wildlife out here, it was habit for most people to do so. Dale nodded in acknowledgement and the preacher walked to his window.

"Morning, Sheriff."

"Morning, sir."

"Must still be waking up if you didn't see me standing there."

"Yeah, sorry about that."

"Something I can help you with today? You know, I think you kicked up more of a hornet's nest than you planned with your speech on Sunday. I got people comin' and goin' from my office all worried that there's gonna be a gang war on the streets of this town over this new Devil's Drug."

"Yeah, I'm sorry about that. An unintended side effect I'm afraid. I'll try to be a bit more careful with my discussions. Excuse me, sir." Dale went to put his car in gear when the preacher continued.

"What brings you by then if it's not to talk to me?" He craned his neck to look at the house at the back of his land. "Ah, my wife must have called when she didn't hear Kristen come home last night. She does worry so, but that's what a mother does. Doesn't matter how many times I tell her that our little bird is grown, she insists on looking after her. Well, as you can see, her car's here so she made it home just fine."

"No, sir. I need to see her about another matter. I hope you understand."

"I do, but could you help me out? She is my girl and if she's in trouble..."

"No, sir. She's not in trouble." He lied. He knew he had, but Kristen was also over 18 and what happened now was up to her to explain to her father. "I just need to ask her some things as it relates to something that happened in town. On-going investigation, I'm sure you understand that I can't say more than that."

"Ah, say no more sheriff. I'll keep my ears open in case. If I hear something, I'll give Janet a call right away."

"Thank you preacher. You have a good morning."

The preacher stepped back and waved to Dale as he drove the rest of the way up the drive. Stopping and parking his truck to block in Kristen's car, he stepped to the porch. He knew she wouldn't run, but if she was scared, she might not be thinking clearly. His rough knuckles knocked on the rough screen door. Slowly, Dale looked back at the house and bit his lip about how he might have to explain things to Kristen's father in case things escalated with this investigation. Outside of that serial killer scare last year, this town didn't see many murders and those he did have to deal with were altercations that escalated to violence and then someone did something stupid. This might be the first real murder in his county so far.

Dale turned as he heard the door open behind the screen door. Kristen looked a little worse for wear in a t-shirt he'd never seen her in. Something happened last night, he was sure of it. If someone had hurt Garrett's sister.... He stepped closer to the screen and spoke quietly.

"Hey, Kristen... are you okay? Is it okay for me to come in?"

 

[CarnivalBarker]

Kristen let the Sheriff inside, where she was holed up in some little running shorts and a fitted t-shirt, avoiding the world outside, uncertain whether being seen anywhere was a good idea.

"Yeah, come in," she said, racing him inside and closing the door quickly. She walked to the kitchen, where she hoisted herself up to sit on the counter, her hands beside her thighs at the counter's edge, her feet anxiously kicking tiny kicks, unsure what to say, or how to begin the conversation. She decided the best way to start was to simply come out with the information at hand.

"Taylor is dead," she said. She wiped a solitary tear from her face. "I saw what happened." She waited a moment to take a deep breath. "Some guys I don't know and have never seen before," her words began to become clipped, as she found it hard to put together complete sentences. "The barn," she stammered. "It.....behind there," her voice rose to a whine, as she found it harder to control her fear. "The party.....last night," she knew nothing she was saying made sense and yet to her, every word told the story perfectly. "My dad," she continued. "He'll......he will.....I can't explain," she began to gasp for air and was finding it hard to breathe. She took a few deep breaths and hopped off the counter. She opened a drawer and pulled a small pill bottle, unlabeled, before opening it and taking a Xanax she had taken from the boy's house she left only a few hours earlier. Her hands shook and she put the bottle away. Her eyes rose to meet Dale's. "I don't know what to do."

 

[such_a_bad_man]

Dale stood back after Kristen let him in. It seemed better to let her to talk than for him to ask questions right away. Even so, he watched her with worry as she seemed to move in a trance. When she pulled herself up on the counter and began speaking, he understood why.

"Taylor is dead. I saw what happened."

Dale's eyes widened at that admission. He wasn't too surprised to hear that Taylor was dead; it was going to be a matter of time before he crossed the wrong people and did something stupid. But that Kristen saw it happen. That was a level of brazen disregard for the law that was more than a little worrisome. He walked into the kitchen, pulling out a glass and slowly pouring a glass of water. As he did, he listened to her continue.

"Some guys I don't know and have never seen before. The barn, It.....behind there, The party.....last night, My dad, He'll......he will.....I can't explain."

Dale listened, trying to make sense out of what she was saying. Slowly, he turned and held out the glass for her, but she didn't seem to be registering that it was there. He was about to step closer and say something as she retrieved a bottle from a drawer in the counter, popping a pill inside. Dale couldn't tell what it was, but that didn't matter as he heard what she said next.

"I don't know what to do."

Calmly, slowly, he took her hands in his. "I know... I know you are scared. Nothing about this is normal. It's scared to know what to do. But I hope you know that you can trust me. I will be with you through all of this. For now, take a slow breath. You're safe. You're going to stay safe. I'm here and I'll keep you safe even after the men that did this terrible thing to Taylor are locked away for good, okay?"

Dale waited and watched her face, trying to read if anything he said had gotten through. This was probably the first time that Kristen had heard a gunshot outside of hunting or range practice. It's a much different thing to hear one that's fired in anger at someone. Once again, he tried to get her to sip some water, letting her hold the glass in her hands to keep them busy. Now was not the time to ask her to take him to the body. Instead, he slid up on the counter beside her and slipped his arm around her shoulders, drawing her to his side. Rather than continuing to ramble, he sat in silence until she calmed down and was ready to talk again.

 

[CarnivalBarker]

It was nice of Dale to comfort her and she hugged him as he concluded his words to her, before she pulled away and wiped her eyes again. She simply nodded to recognize the kind things he had said then looked at him again.

"Do you think I'm safe?" She asked, wincing at the thought of what horrible things, what pain and evil and darkness might come with any response he gave other than an unequivocal yes. She paced across her small pad and sat on her couch, knees pressed together, leaned forward, then placing her head in her hands. No sooner had she done so than there was a knock on her door. Kristen raised her head and looked at Dale, her cheeks puffy and eyes still red, unable to hide her emotions quickly. It could only be one person outside.

"Kristen!" her dad called. "Kristen, let me in honey!" Her eyes darted to the door, then back to Dale, before growing wide as she heard a key begin to rattle the lock.

"I need my own place," she managed just as the door opened. Her father stepped in the room and looked at Dale, then to her. He paused, still at the precipice of coming inside before growing quiet, suspicious.

"Everything alright in here?" He asked. "Everything okay?" He looked at his little girl. "What's going on here, Dale?" Kristen's dad looked at the Sheriff.

"Daddy, I..." the girl began.

"No," he stopped her. "I want to know what's going on."

 

[such_a_bad_man]

"Do you think I'm safe?"

Dale looked down at her and spoke softly. "Of course. I'll see that you are."

Slowly, he slipped his arm from around her as she stood from the counter and crossed to her couch. As she sat down, he could see that she was still terrified from her body language. He was about to walk over and try to get her to think about something else when he heard the knock at the door. Looking back at Kristen, Dale could see the worry... almost terror in her eyes at the prospect of talking to her father right now.

"It's okay, I'll talk to him," he spoke softly to her. He turned back to the door, waiting for Kristen's dad to burst in. He listened to the exchange between the two of them and he knew that his lies on the driveway may not have been sufficient to allay his worries. Then, he looked between the two of them, demanding that one of them explain what's going on. Dale didn't like being in the middle of a family situation but it's what he's seen the most since becoming sheriff.

Calmly, Dale put a hand up in an attempt to indicate that he needed to remain calm. "Sir, I know that Kristen is your daughter and you feel the need to protect her. I'm here as it relates to a case; someone she knew was killed last night and I just broke the news to her. This is the reason for her emotional state. Now, I need to take her down and speak to her at the office so I can get her statement on the record. As for the rest of the specifics, I can't provide them and I'm not compelled to share them as Kristen is of legal age, despite you being her parent. Now, when she gets back you can try to talk with her, but she doesn't have to tell you anything if she chooses not to. Now, this building is on your property, but this is a separate residence and you are entering without her consent. If you'd please step outside, I can talk to you and answer your questions out there. But now might not be the best time to press your daughter for details. So can we step outside, please?"

Dale didn't look over his shoulder, holding her dad with his gaze. He didn't want to lose any sense of control by showing any sort of indecisiveness. Tensions were already raw enough as they were.

 

[CarnivalBarker]

Her father retreated a bit at the sound of Dale's strong tone. He nodded, indicating he would do as Dale said, stepping back from the front door, but clearly waiting very nearby as to hear anything that might be said until Dale came outside himself.

"Thank you," she mouthed to him, just before closing the door, leaving her father outside while she spoke the the Sheriff a few brief moments more. She felt safe in his presence, which was not anything she had needed before she witnessed someone be murdered, but now, even in the pale, morning light of day, she felt awash in darkness, surrounded by an evil she had never imagined. It was nice feeling comforted. Her voice rose a bit with her father out of hearing shot. "I'm not sure I can stay here," she said to Dale. "In town. People know who my father is and they know where I live and I cannot really hide." She faced Dale. She twirled her hair a bit, unbelieving what she was about to propose, no doubt running on adrenaline, fear, and emotion. "If you can protect me," she paused, then looked at her feet. "Then I'll give you anything you like." Her wide eyes rose to meet his to gauge his reaction. She meant what she said, though didn't sure what all she truly meant, not knowing Dale's desires or proclivities, his needs and demands. "Daddy can't find out though," she included. "Please."

 

[such_a_bad_man]

Dale looked down at Kristen as her offer was still rattling around in his head. Part of him couldn't believe she would make such an offer to him. They had known each other for so long that maybe she had secretly wanted to be with him. Then again, another side of him was revolted by the offer. Did she think so little of him that she thought he was the sort to take advantage of a woman in trouble? There were so many layers to her offer that he stood in silence as he tried to figure out what to do next. In the end, he did agree that letting her stay here was probably a bad idea. The town was small enough that anyone asking around would eventually wind up knocking on Kristen's door. He would deal with her offer another time.

"Why don't we start by taking you to my office for now?" He asked, knowing that her father was right behind the door and would be listening. He looked around and stepped closer, placing his hands on her shoulders. He spoke again, this time, much lower and softer so only she would hear. "And grab a bag of your things; we'll get you someplace safe for the next few days. Quick..." He said, glancing over his shoulder at the door.

-----

Once they were set to leave, Dale led Kristen out, intervening between Kristen and her father if he tried to keep her from leaving. "Like I said, I need to take her down to the station for her statement." He said, cutting off the first question out of his mouth.

"Why does she need a bag then?" he shouted back, pointing around Dale's head as Kristen climbed into his truck.

"She's staying with friends she knows for the next few days in light of what's happened."

"Why not stay with her family?"

"It is her choice, sir. Please remember that she is old enough to be treated as an adult by the law so I must also..." Once he heard the door close behind him, he stepped back and moved to join her. "Don't worry, I'll make sure she stays safe." He said, trying to be reassuring.

Dale fired up the truck and pulled off her father's land, heading for the main road through town. Once they were sufficiently far enough away, Dale glanced over. "Do you think you could take me to where they killed Taylor? I know it's hard, but I need to see it." He asked, biting his lip as he wasn't sure how she was going to react if forced to remember the incident.

 

[CarnivalBarker]

Kristen wondered what Dale was thinking as he got an odd look on his face following her statement to him. She had little to offer, but she certainly could cook, clean, help at the office, something. She had not slowed a moment to think about the implication of her words that perhaps conveyed a bit more than she intended. It wasn't until Dale offered to take her to his office "for now," that she realized what she had perhaps promised.

"No, I meant...." she paused, thinking for a moment and not being put off by the idea of spending time - that kind of time - with Dale. She chose not to back away from what she said, but also to not double down. She would go with him and wait and see what might happen later. She was far too upset in the moment, still afraid of what might come from what she had seen, to beat herself up over a slip of the tongue or to commit to anything beyond getting away from where she could easily be found. Kristen nodded when Dale suggested to get a bag and began racing around the apartment. Moments later she had thrown a few sets of casual clothes in a Nike gym bag, and threw it over her shoulder. Moments later, she stayed behind Dale, who remained between her and her father as she walked to Dale's car. Her dad was certainly perplexed and annoyed. She knew he would, at some point even, become angry. She got inside, feeling tears begin to run down her eyes. She had not asked for anything like this. She looked out the passenger window, in the opposite direction, as Dale started the truck and took off. A few miles down the road, Dale spoke the first words between them since they left.

"Do you think you could take me to where they killed Taylor?" He asked. She turned her head and simply nodded yes. The kept driving a few more miles, until they began to close in on a cross road that could take them there.

"Turn left on Honeysuckle Lane," was all she said. "It happened behind the old Coolidge Barn. Behind the party barn."

 

[such_a_bad_man]

Coolidge Barn. That's where the party kids were gathering. He'd heard rumors there was a huge party every month in his county. The only signs of it to cross his desk usually involved a naked college student wandering the rural roads, looking for a lift back to the college up the interstate from here. No one at the station made it a priority as no one could get a line on where the party went down. Dale filed that information away for later, however. He had a much bigger case on his mind as he turned toward Honeysuckle. It would take a few minutes to get there as it was one of the furthest farms from town.

As he drove, he kept glancing over at Kristen. He tried to get a read on what she was thinking as they drove to the murder scene. She seemed to be over the shock at this point, but she still seemed unsure of her safety. Twice, she had voiced concerns about her safety. She even went so far as to share that she wanted to get out of town. It wasn't too surprising for her mind to jump to that as a strategy. She was right that most everyone in town knew who she was due to who her father was. That wasn't going to help him solve this case, however.

Dale cursed at himself for having such a thought. To think about solving a case over keeping someone safe; he was so disappointed in himself as he drove on, continuing the silence in the car. Eventually, he realized how awkward it must be to drive this long in silence so he chose to speak up, if only to break the silence.

"You don't have to offer me anything to get me to protect you. You're a citizen in my county and my best friend's little sister. It's my job and my privilege to protect you." Dale looked over again, curious if Kristen was even listening as they drove. Her mind must be going a mile a minute, considering everything that happened and replaying it over in her head. He swallowed hard, his head aching to have her feel safe again.

That would have to wait as he pulled off Honeysuckle onto the drive for the property of the old Coolidge barn. Dale pulled up beside the old farmhouse, pulling forward enough that he could see the barn from his parking spot. He turned to Kristen and spoke quietly. "Wait here. I'll come get you once I'm sure it's safe. If anything... if you get spooked..." he pressed his keys into hands. "Drive to my office and tell Janet what happened. Do you understand?" He watched her eyes, hoping to see a sign of recognition. If Taylor was shot here, his murderers might not be content to leave the body behind and came when no one was around to finish their work. He didn't want Kristen to think like that however.