-----------------------------------
The Speerings
by Cheryl N. Warner
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Romance

Wings ePress, Inc
www.wings-press.com

First published in 2007, 2007

NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, including without limit email, floppy disk, file transfer, paper print out, or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment.

The Speerings

As she drove toward Doral College, the dreadful thought of spending another evening alone in her dorm room caused her to impulsively pull into Hyde Park, a place where she had spent many Saturday afternoons as a child. As she slowly strolled through the deserted park, she wrapped her sweater tighter around her in the chill of the spring night. Taking a seat in one of the swings where her father used to push her higher and higher until she squealed with delight, she leaned her head against the chain, swinging gently to and fro.

Instant replays of the week's events ran over and over through her mind, the most haunting being the door of her once happy, secure home slamming in her face at the hand of her angry father. A single teardrop ran down her cheek as she submerged into the stark reality of her desolation. She had abandoned her youth and her friends for the sake of her father's career, and yet he had looked at her with an intense disappointment that deeply severed her loyal heart. He had also allowed her to leave home without even saying goodbye.

Consumed by her miserable thoughts, Carly never heard the rustling footsteps of the man slowly approaching from behind.

What They Are Saying About

The Speerings

Ms. Warner has certainly written an inspirational tale of truth and justice but she has also been able to incorporate it with elements of intrigue and danger.

—Sheryl

Ecataromance.com

Ms. Warner has spun a romantic suspense with an unlikely villain and an unusual twist of evil. The sparring between the two would-be lovers leads the reader on a page-turning ride, while deceit lurks in every chapter. Ms. Warner has turned out a unique tale of love and hate.

—Eileen Key

Author of Dog Gone

Heartsong Presents Mystery

Other Works From The Pen Of

Cheryl N. Warner

Christian Ways

Just when Christian finally decides to marry her straight-laced boyfriend, along comes Zachary Mitchell, younger man and confounder of the heart.

Wings

The Speerings

Cheryl N. Warner

A Wings ePress, Inc.

Contemporary Romance Novel

Wings ePress, Inc.

Edited by: Lorraine Stephens

Copy Edited by: Sara V. Olds

Senior Editor: Anita York

Executive Editor: Lorraine Stephens

Cover Artist: Richard Stroud

Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher.

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

Wings ePress Books

www.wings-press.com

ISBN 1-59705-084-9

Published In the United States Of America

January 2007

Wings ePress Inc.

403 Wallace Court

Richmond, KY 40475

Dedication

A special thanks to Tracy, John L., and Carol for inspiring me with rumors and tall tales.

One

Sheriff Nagle stood out among the legion of restless police officers like a stately oak, unmoved amid mighty gale force winds. He stared calmly into the dense woods common to southeastern Tennessee, no sign of urgency or annoyance on his perpetually stoic face. As his men awaited the go ahead to continue their search for the escapee, he casually glanced at his watch. The moment Deputy Brandon's voice announced over the radio that the perpetrator had been spotted from the helicopter, Sheriff Nagle quickly interrupted. “Is the lowlife still on the move?"

“That's an affirmative. But his pace has definitely slowed."

“Good. Keep following him, and let me know when he's on the ground,” Sheriff Nagle instructed quietly.

“On the ground, sir?"

“You heard me!"

“Uh ... Do I understand that to mean you want us to fire on him, sir?"

“Of course not! Just keep an eye on him. He's got to be plum tuckered out as long as he's been running. Until he lies down to rest, don't bug me with any more useless details!"

“Yes, sir,” Deputy Brandon said uncertainly.

Sheriff Nagle threw the radio mike on the front seat of his squad car then picked up the brown paper sack to see what his wife had prepared for lunch. “Baloney, again,” he muttered disappointedly, biting into the sandwich then unscrewing his thermos lid.

Deputy Sheriff Handley cautiously approached his superior, speaking in his usual fidgety manner. “Saul, didn't I just hear Brandon say they had Northcutt in their sights? Everyone's just waiting for the word to go in after him. What do I tell them?"

Sheriff Nagle continued to smack loudly on his sandwich as he answered. “First, get them blasted reporters out of here. Tell them they're too close to the action and send them up the road packin'. Put a couple of deputies up there to hold them off. Tell the rest of the men to take a quick break then we'll see what happens."

“Yes, sir,” Deputy Handley said with a nod, turning and trotting toward the throng of reporters lined up along the edge of the woods.

Carly Wright, lead journalist for the student newspaper at Doral College, was among the crowd. “Just look at him sitting there eating his lunch like he's at a Fourth of July picnic. He makes me sick,” she said to the cameraman from Channel Eight news.

“Yeah, but you can't deny, he's a good sheriff. We live in the safest county in the state of Tennessee. I'll sure vote for him again."

Carly rolled her eyes. “It's not what he does. It's how he does it. He's as crooked as they come."

“Who cares how he does it? As long as me and my family's safe, I'm sure not going to complain. Besides, I think all those stories you hear are just tall tales made up by bored housewives. Nobody's been able to prove any of it."

“Nobody's tried to prove it. They're all too scared of him. Well, I'm sure not scared. I'm going to be the fire ant and the thunderstorm that ruins his little picnic and there's not a thing he can do about it!"

As the cameraman scoffed at Carly's self-assured enthusiasm, Deputy Handley appeared in front of the mob of reporters, a bullhorn in hand. “Your attention, please. Sheriff Nagle has ordered all reporters out of the area. Kindly move along up the hill to the end of Trammel road. There's nothing here to see anyway, folks. We'll let y'all know just as soon as we've apprehended the perpetrator. It shouldn't be too long now."

Carly waved her arm wildly. “Excuse me, deputy, but can you tell me how your men are going to apprehend Mr. Northcutt, when they're all standing around here with their thumbs up their—"

“No comment. Now, you run along home, Carly. Your daddy will have all our heads if something happens to his little girl."

“Can you tell me how Mr. Northcutt escaped from jail in the first place? Just how does a man get through steel bars and over a barbed wire fence without being seen?” Carly yelled over the sound of the helicopter flying above them.

As the retreating reporters turned toward Deputy Handley, awaiting his answer, the wail of ambulance sirens drawing closer caused the crowd to fall silent and look at one another with anticipation. The deputy quickly turned toward Sheriff Nagle's patrol car and received a slight nod from his superior. Turning back to the reporters, he raised the bullhorn to his lips again. “Okay, folks, hurry it up. Get yourselves up the road and leave us to do our business."

As the eerie cry of the siren grew louder and louder, the reporters and cameramen froze in their places, ignoring the high-pitched commands of Deputy Handley. When an ambulance and fire truck topped the hill, all cameras clicked on, and the reporters raced for the best filming spot along the edge of the police-lined wooded area. Sheriff Nagle watched the chaotic scene from over the roof of his car. A slight smile formed on his lips at the sight of the reporters practically scratching and clawing one another to be the first to capture the action as it unfolded.

Feeling the heaviness of someone's attention pressing upon him, he turned his head toward the lone, wannabe journalist standing calmly by her car, her dark brown eyes intently studying him. Mayor Wright's daughter had grown into a very attractive young woman, and the sheriff took the opportunity to thoroughly ogle every inch of the petite, slightly freckled brunette before turning away from her antagonistic glare.

“Dirty ol’ man,” Carly muttered, before turning toward the emergency medical technicians that were jumping from the ambulance and running into the woods.

While the reporters bombarded Sheriff Handley with questions concerning the need for medical personnel, Carly hoisted herself onto the hood of her car and waited. Soon a large group of police officers joined Sheriff Handley and, struggling to contain them, forced the clamorous reporters back to their parked vehicles as two paramedics removed a stretcher from the ambulance and pushed it into the woods.

When the twenty-five-year-old rookie named Rob Coad spotted Carly waiting patiently with her chin in her hands, he slipped away from his post. “Hey there, beautiful. Still looking for that Pulitzer Prize winning story, I see,” he said playfully, leaning against the hood next to her.

“Nah ... I'm just looking for the truth, Robby. I don't suppose you'd want to tell me what's really going on, now would you?"

“Well, I just might ... if you'll dump that computer geek and go out with me."

“Hey, he may be a geek, but at least I don't have to worry about his computer shooting at him!"

Deputy Coad smiled and scooted closer. “So, you worry about me, huh? That's really sweet."

“You're twisting my words around again, Deputy. I've already told you I don't date anybody on the government payroll, especially one of Sheriff Nagle's little disciples.” Even if he is the most muscular, best looking guy in town with those haunting blue eyes, that perfectly spiked hair the color of milk chocolate, and those stout lips that are just screaming to be—

“Aw, come on, Carly. Just think of the interesting inside scoop you could get if you dated a cop."

“Yeah, but I'll bet you still wouldn't tell me what your almighty boss is really up to, would you? Did he have the so-called escapee shot or something? I didn't hear any gunfire. Am I going to have to wait for them to come back with a body before I get the full story?"

Rob discreetly glanced at his fellow officers, who were still busy containing the rambunctious reporters. Leaning toward Carly, he spoke in a whisper. “Okay, but you didn't hear this from me. We didn't have to shoot him. He just fell over in the woods with some sort of medical condition."

“What? Like a heart attack?” she asked, quickly grabbing her pen and notepad.

“No, I don't think it was his heart. All I know is the deputy in the chopper spotted him lying on the ground and an ambulance was called. But like I said, you didn't hear it from me."

“And just why would that be a big secret, Robby?” she asked with raised eyebrows.

“Well, you know ... There's already crazy talk floating around about Sheriff Nagle. Anytime anything unusual happens, the tongues start wagging and the rumors start flying."

“Yeah, ‘cause when he's around, something unusual always happens!"

“Aw, Carly. You've been listening to too many urban legends. I thought a good reporter stuck to the facts. You need to forget about trying to expose some sort of scandal involving Sheriff Nagle. You're wasting your time if that's what you're after. Sure, he's tough on criminals, but that's what keeps our streets so safe. Plus, I'm sure your daddy wouldn't appreciate you going after one of his cohorts."

“Yeah, and I'm sure my daddy wouldn't appreciate the way you talk to my chest instead of my face, either. But that hasn't stopped you!"

Rob lifted his gaze to Carly's eyes and smiled sheepishly. “You do call it like you see it, don't you? Look, Carly, I'm just trying to help you out. You're going to get yourself in trouble if you keep sticking your nose in police business."

“Well, thanks for the advice, but it's my duty as a concerned citizen and a journalist to dig for the truth."

He shook his head and frowned. “Well, you just be careful. It's not a good idea to cross certain folks."

“If your boss is the fine, upstanding man you claim he is, what could I possibly have to worry about?” She slid off the hood of her car. “See ya, Robby."

Before the rookie could stop her, Carly dashed to meet the emerging paramedics while the other police officers were occupied with restraining the throng of riotous reporters. Clicking the pen in her hand and posturing for an interview, she stood directly in the paramedic's path. “For what medical condition did Mr. Northcutt require attention and what is his prognosis?"

The technical snickered. “The medical condition was diabetes. Mr. Northcutt went into an insulin coma, and his prognosis ain't too good. He's already dead. Wanna see?"

Carly shook her head vigorously and tucked in her lips while staring at the sheet encased body. Mesmerized by the implications swirling around in her head, she found it impossible to move from her spot or continue her questioning. A loud shriek of startlement escaped her lips when Rob suddenly grabbed her around the waist from behind and pulled her toward the other reporters.

“Sorry, Carly. I didn't mean to scare you, but you need to get out of the way. This is official police business, not your own personal career opportunity. Now stay put, before I have to handcuff you!"

“Yeah, I'll bet you'd like that, wouldn't you?” Carly asked automatically, staring at the still figure being loaded into the ambulance.

“Well, now that you mention it...” he replied playfully, twirling the handcuffs around his index finger.

Carly turned her attention to Sheriff Nagle, who wore an eerily content smirk upon his face while watching the ambulance pull away. “He let him die,” she stated in a soft, distant voice. “He let him roam around in the woods without his medication ‘til he died..."

Rob shook his head and laughed. “You're imagination's running away with you again, Carly. It ain't our fault the dude escaped and hid in the woods without his medicine. He brought this on himself."

Carly continued to watch Sheriff Nagle as he heartily congratulated his men on a job well done. “Don't you see, Robby? That's the sickening brilliance of his plan. He's killed a man and nobody can prove a thing."

“Oh, brother! You've been reading too many crime novels or something, girl. This ain't nothing but a classic case of a criminal's stupid actions getting him killed. It happens all the time."

“Yeah, I'm sure it does,” she said with unmasked hostility, her squinted eyes watching Sheriff Nagle casually munch on a chocolate chip cookie from his sack lunch.

Two

Plites county's prisoners were housed in the original jail that was erected when the town was founded in the early 1900's. Slight improvements had been made and additional cells added, but the building was undeniably the crudest example of architecture in town, offering none of the comforts of home to its residents. There were no air conditioners, televisions, weight or game rooms, and the prisoners were required to grow much of their own food in a large garden located behind the building.

Since most of the Tennessee penitentiaries were bursting at the seams with prisoners, many counties were funded by the state to hold all nonviolent detainees whenever possible. While the Plites county inmates were thankful to remain near their home where their families and friends could visit more often, during the brutally hot and humid summer months, many of them would gladly trade their visitation time for a cooler cell at a federal pen.

Carly had written several articles about the mistreatment of the county's inmates, but each received less than favorable responses. She remained unmoved. Disapproval was no deterrent for a true journalist.

The moment Billy Northcutt's body was on its way to the morgue, Carly headed straight to the house of correction in search of a good story. She carefully examined the twelve-foot high fence surrounding the facility, which was topped with huge coils of barbed wire. After finding no holes or gaps, she examined the jailhouse itself from afar, looking for signs of the late Billy Northcutt's escape route. As she walked back along the fence, searching for evidence that holes had been dug underneath, a deep voice from the other side startled her. “Whatcha lookin’ for, Miss?” the tall, thin detainee asked politely.

Before she could answer, a second prisoner appeared, hooking his fingers through the chain links and peering at her hungrily. “If you're looking for a way in, honey, we'll be glad to help ... Hey! Ain't you the mayor's daughter?"

“Unfortunately,” she replied, continuing to stroll along the fence, pushing large clumps of grass out of the way with her foot.

“Well, you tell that no-good Republican louse he can kiss this,” the second prisoner said, pointing to his backside.

“I'll be sure to do that,” Carly said with a knowing smile, finally looking up at the two curious men. “Do y'all happen to know how Billy Northcutt managed to escape yesterday?"

The tall prisoner laughed. “If we did, do you think we'd still be in here?"

“No, I reckon not,” Carly said with chuckle.

“I heard he ran when they were putting him in a squad car to move him to a different jailhouse, but I find that hard to believe. They always shackle you up pretty good when they ship you out of here."

Carly nodded, jotting on her notepad. “Why was he being moved?"

The second prisoner shrugged. “Beats me. I sure couldn't understand it since he was up for parole soon. Who knows why these high and mighty government pigs do what they do? Maybe you should ask your daddy."

Before Carly could reply, a guard appeared at the door leading into the courtyard. He immediately sprinted toward the conversing group with his hand resting on his gun. Both convicts quickly took two steps backward.

“What's going on out here?” the guard asked suspiciously before recognizing the mayor's only offspring. “Oh no, not you! Let me guess. You're trying to get another story on how bad we treat our poor, misunderstood inmates. Forget it, Carly. Nobody reads that liberal piece of trash college paper you write for, anyway."

Ignoring the insults, Carly retained her professional air. “Just how did Billy Northcutt escape yesterday, Deputy Brown? How could a prisoner possibly get away from such well-trained, competent cops like yourself? Wouldn't you like to defend your reputation by explaining that to the community?"

Deputy Brown rolled his eyes then gestured for the audience of two to return to their cells. “First off, the community don't give a rip about scumbags like Billy Northcutt. All they care about is that the thief's no longer a tax burden and that nobody but him was killed in that fiasco yesterday. They sure don't care what a twenty-year-old know-it-all prints in a second-rate college paper. Don't you have anything better to do than go around trying to stir things up in our peaceful little town?"

Carly hesitated and looked thoughtful. “Actually ... no,” she answered, turning and walking toward her car.

When she arrived home, she found a note by the phone that looked as though it said her boyfriend called. It was always difficult to decipher the angry scribbles. As she dialed Boyd's number, her father walked into the kitchen and snatched the receiver from her hand, placing it back into its cradle. “Step into my office, young lady,” he commanded firmly, pointing down the hall as if she didn't know the way.

Carly opened her mouth to protest, but changed her mind after taking a good look at her father's face. Entering his office, she walked to the usual hot seat and plopped down, staring straight ahead and slouching in the chair with her fingers tapping impatiently on the arms. Mayor Wright took a seat behind his desk, observing a moment of silent fury before speaking. “Just what are you trying to do to me, Carly?"

His little girl shrugged with disinterest. “What do you mean?"

Mayor Wright sighed impatiently. “Look, I know you like playing reporter, but you can't go around poking your nose in police business. And you sure can't be hanging around outside the jailhouse fence, chatting with the inmates like a common streetwalker! That sort of behavior wouldn't be appropriate for any young lady. It's absolutely unacceptable for the mayor's daughter! Now, what do you have to say for yourself?"

Carly pursed her lips and averted her eyes from her father's glare. “I never asked to be the mayor's daughter."

“Well, that's just too bad! It's who you are, and you will conduct yourself in such a manner that is befitting your status!"

“My status?” she asked, pushing herself straight up in her chair. “That's all you money-loving Republicans care about, isn't it?"

“Don't you dare start that again, Carly! I'm well aware of your slanted political views. It was an embarrassment having my own daughter vote against me in the election."

“Dad, in spite of the way I vote, I have shown nothing but respect for you and your ultra-conservative platform, and you know it! I've never said one negative thing about your political views or your agenda to anybody outside this house."

“Well, that's not enough! You have a responsibility to walk the straight and narrow every second of your life as long as I'm the mayor. You know how watchful the public is of political figures and their families."

“What do you want from me? I've been the perfect little angel for the past three years, never once going against your unreasonable commandments. I agreed to go to crummy Doral College instead of going to a real university. I agreed to live at home instead of at the dorm so you can keep an eye on me. I don't drink. I don't do drugs. I don't sleep with my boyfriend. I'm not doing any of the things most people specifically go to college to do."

“I raised you better than to do those things anyway, Carly. Are you telling me that my being mayor has kept you from sinning and ruining your life? Well, I'm sure not going to apologize for that!"

“I'm not saying I want to do those things. My point is, I've lived the way a good little mayor's daughter should, but it's still not enough for you."

“Well, you can blame the wonderful media that you're just dying to become a part of, for that. They're the ones that have to report it every time someone belches in this house."

“Yeah, and as I remember, they're the ones that helped get you elected. If they hadn't done that report on your opponent's little drug problem back in college, you might still be at the dealership selling used cars to folk who can't afford them. Dad, all I've ever dreamed about is being a great journalist, and—"

“But you're not a journalist, Carly! You're a college student who's dabbling in stuff that needs to be left to the professionals. When are you going to realize that what you print in that college paper isn't read by anyone who can help you get started in your career? You're wasting your time and making a fool out of yourself and out of me. It needs to stop, and I mean right now!"

Carly's jaws clinched rapidly, and her breathing became short, angry snorts. “Dad, I'm really sorry my being a journalist interferes with your political career. But it's what I do, and nothing's going to stop me!"

“Oh, really? I'll bet if I take away your car and stop handing you my hard earned money every time you stick your hand out it'll stop you!"

She stood to her feet. “You go right ahead! In fact, here are the keys. I'll need a ride to the dorm after I'm through packing. If you won't take me, I'm sure Boyd will be glad to come pick me up!"

She stomped out of the office with her father on her heels. “And just how are you going to afford to live at the dorm? I'm sure not going to pay for it!"

Spinning around suddenly, she looked straight into her father's eyes. “Well, you said I was acting like a common streetwalker. I reckon I already have a way to pay for it!"

“You're not going anywhere, young lady!” Mayor Wright shouted at her back as she ran up the stairs.

Mrs. Wright emerged from the kitchen. “Carl? Why are you screaming at our daughter?” she asked calmly.

“'Cause she's killing me, Amy! She's absolutely killing me! Everybody in this town's laughing and making fun of her for running around like she's some hotshot reporter. When's she going to grow up and stop playing make-believe? When's she going to figure out that reporters aren't nothing but hard-hearted vultures who destroy people's lives?"

Before Amy could reply, Carly burst from her room. “I'm not going to be like that, Dad! I'm going to expose scandals and reveal the truth! People have a right to know the truth!” she yelled, spinning and stomping back into her room.

“What could she possibly know about the truth?” Mayor Wright asked his wife with an exasperated frown.

Amy glanced up at her daughter's room, where the sounds of drawers slamming and angry footsteps reverberated down the stairway. Taking her husband by the hand, she led him into his office and closed the door. “Carl, just calm down a minute, and listen to me. And no interrupting until I'm done! Your daughter may not know a lot about the harsh realities of life, and thank God for it, but she knows the truth when she sees it. Her deepest desire is to help everyone else know the truth, too. I don't know where she gets it or why it's so important to her, but I do know that neither you nor I have any right to take it away from her.

“Since she was a little girl, all she's ever wanted to be is a reporter. Now I know she gets a little carried away writing for that silly college paper, but it's all she has anymore. Since you became mayor three years ago, her life as she knew it has ceased to exist. She goes to school, comes home, does her homework then gets up and does it all again the next day.

“You should be glad she's so knowledgeable about the media. It's exactly why she realizes that she has to be a recluse—to keep the vultures from having ammunition to use against us. Even though she disagrees with almost everything you stand for, she loves you so much she's afraid to do anything that might have the slightest chance of jeopardizing your political career. The only shred of enjoyment she gets out of life anymore is chasing news stories and getting to the bottom of scandals.

“We're very blessed, honey. Some of these kids around here are getting into all kinds of trouble, and it's breaking their parent's hearts. In case you haven't noticed, Carly's a very beautiful young woman. You'd better believe she could be doing a lot worse things than ambulance chasing. She used to have boys knocking down the door to ask her out, but they've all given up. Everybody knows the mayor's daughter doesn't stay out past midnight and isn't allowed to be seen at the places where all the kids hang out. They don't even call her anymore, even her girlfriends.

“She's settled for dating the most boring boy in town because she knows it's safe and won't cause you any problems. She's missing out on what's supposed to be the best years of her life, all because her daddy got elected Mayor. Carl, you can't tell your daughter not to be a reporter, no matter what folks are saying or how hard they're laughing. She has to have something in her life that makes her happy. Please let her follow her heart."

Mayor Wright shook his head sadly. “But her heart's telling her to move out."

“Well, it may just be the best thing for her to get out from under this roof and live her own life. If she makes mistakes and it gets reported all over the news, maybe it'll open her eyes to what the media is really all about. Right now, she's young and idealistic and thinks she can change the world simply by reporting the facts. I'd love to keep her here the rest of her life and protect her from the real facts of life, but she has to learn at some point. I think the time has come to let her go."

Mayor Wright ran his hand through his graying hair. “But what if she does something really stupid and ruins my chance of getting reelected?"

Amy closed her eyes and let out a weary sigh. “I thought this conversation was about our daughter, not your political career. Maybe you not getting reelected would be the best thing for this family!"

“You don't mean that, Amy! You know that being in politics is all I've ever wanted. I've got dreams just like Carly does. And I will not have mine ruined by the foolish shenanigans of a twenty-year-old dreamer who has no idea what life's really all about!"

As Amy opened her mouth to retort, the doorbell rang. Mayor Wright tromped into the foyer, flinging the door open and staring wild-eyed at Carly's boyfriend. Once in the presence of a registered voter, the mayor immediately switched on his pleasant politician persona. “Hello there, Boyd. Come on in, son. Carly's upstairs right now. We'll let her know you're here."

The tall, lanky senior nervously adjusted his glasses and remained on the front porch. “Well ... Carly told me to wait out here for her. She said she needed a ride to school. Did her car break down or something?"

“No,” Amy replied as the mayor whipped his head toward his wife, his expression daring her to reveal their personal problems to a member of the general public. “Carly misplaced her keys, but I just found them. She won't be needing that ride after all, but I'll go tell her you're here."

“That's okay, Mom,” Carly said, descending the stairs. “I'm all packed and ready to go."

As Boyd looked questioningly at the suitcase in Carly's hand, Mayor Wright looked as though he might detonate. Amy handed the keys and a wad of cash to her daughter. “Here you go, honey. Now, you take care of yourself, and call any time you need us. We'll miss you, baby,” she said with tears in her eyes, hugging her little girl.

“I'll miss you, too, Mom,” Carly said with surprise, returning the hug and refusing to look at her father's red face. “I'll be back this weekend to get the rest of my stuff."

When her mother finally released her, Carly walked through the door, handing her suitcase to Boyd and heading down the stairs toward her car. Without warning, she suddenly spun around and marched determinedly back up the steps toward her father, who was holding onto the doorknob, a somber expression on his face. Letting go of the door, he crossed his arms in front of him and cleared his throat. When she addressed him, it was as if he were a complete stranger.

“Mayor Wright, can you please tell me why Billy Northcutt was being moved from the Plites county jail?"

He frowned and shook his head. “What?” he asked with a look of total confusion.

Sighing, she shifted her weight to the other foot. “Can you please tell me why it was necessary to move Billy Northcutt to another correctional facility?"

Sudden comprehension spread across the mayor's face. “Oh, for Pete's sake!” he snapped, stepping back and slamming the door in his daughter's face.

Boyd intently watched as Carly's head drooped and she stared at the porch floor for several seconds. When she slowly turned around to walk toward her car, she forced the deep crease in her brow to disappear, replacing it with a smile as bright as a happy child leaving a three-ring circus. “So, what's up with the suitcase?” he asked while Carly hugged him tightly.

“I'm moving into the dorm,” she stated with a shrug, opening the trunk so he could place the case inside.

“Isn't this sort of sudden? I don't think you can just show up at the dorm and get a room on the spur of the moment."

“I'm sure it won't be a problem, Boyd. It's not like there are groves of kids from out of state lined up to get into Doral College."

“That's true ... But I thought you liked living at home. Is everything okay with your folks?"

“Of course,” she stated with a smile, opening her car door. “Haven't you heard? Everything's always fine in the mayor's household."

Three

Professor Jack McCoy slowly lowered his copy of The Speerings, Doral College's student newspaper. The other faculty members had warned him about giving the students full first amendment rights, especially with Carly Wright at the helm of the publication, but he had refused to listen. Carly's articles were invariably edgy and hard-hitting, but she had reached new heights with her piece, entitled, “Sheriff Saul Nagle: Protector of Plites county or Hitler Incarnate?"

For once in his career, he was thankful not be working at a major university, where the student newspaper was sometimes distributed outside campus boundaries. Should Sheriff Nagle catch wind of the incriminating article written by the hand of the mayor's daughter, he would be knocking on the dean's door faster than anyone could say “lawsuit". Carly had portrayed the sheriff as a heartless monster that intentionally set ailing prisoners free to roam in the wilderness, leaving them at the mercy of their diseases. She offered no motive for the sheriff's supposed act or listed any solid proof for her accusation, two blatantly unprofessional errors.

There was no doubt in Professor McCoy's mind, however, that Carly knew exactly what she was doing. He just wasn't certain of her motive. When her tap sounded at his door, he took a deep breath before telling her to enter. Carly sat down facing his desk, slouching in her typically impatient way that told him she knew trouble lay ahead. “So, how are things, Carly?” he asked pleasantly.

“Fine,” she answered curtly, tapping her fingers on the arms of the chair.

“That's good to hear. It's sure been nice weather lately, hasn't it?"

“Uh-huh. Look, I'm sort of pressed for time today, Professor."

“Oh. Okay. Well, I suppose you've already figured out why I wanted to speak to you. You were a little rough on Sheriff Nagle in your article, don't you think?"

The finger tapping stopped. “Nope. I just reported what I saw."

Professor McCoy raised his eyebrows. “You actually saw the sheriff turn Billy Northcutt loose in the woods?"

“No, but there's no way he could've escaped. The jail's completely secured. I checked it out for myself."

“All of the newspaper articles stated that he ran when he was being transferred to another facility. That's what the sheriff's department told reporters."

“Well, there are mixed reviews on that theory. First off, nobody seems to know just why he was being transferred. And secondly, how could he escape when he was shackled?"

“Did you see him in shackles, Carly?"

“No, but that's what I was told by my sources."

“Ah, your sources. And who would that be?"

“You know a good reporter never reveals her sources, Professor McCoy."

“Right. And you know that a good reporter only prints the facts, not rumors or hearsay. Billy Northcutt escaped from police custody and died in the woods because he didn't have his insulin with him. Those are the facts as we know them."

Carly sat up straight. “Let me ask you something, Professor. If you were diabetic and had to take insulin shots on a daily basis, would you risk your life by running from the cops? Especially when you were soon to be up for parole?"

Professor McCoy frowned. “You know for a fact that he was going to be up for parole soon?"

Carly nodded. “And it's also a fact that Sheriff Nagle was fully aware that he was diabetic. He had his men wait by the edge of woods while he calmly ate his lunch and waited for Billy to go into a coma. I was there, Professor. I saw it with my own two eyes. What other reason could he have for not sending his men right in after a so-called escapee?"

“There could be a lot of reasons. Did you happen to interview Sheriff Nagle and ask him that question yourself?"

Carly looked down at her hands and shook her head.

“And why not?” Professor McCoy asked quietly.

“He gives me the creeps. Plus, I didn't figure he'd tell me the truth, anyway."

“So you just reported what you perceived the truth to be? You know better than that, Carly. I expect a lot more from you than this sort of slanted, biased journalism."

Carly looked as though she had been slapped in the face. “I have a gut feeling about this, Professor. You should have been there and seen the look on the sheriff's face when they brought Billy's body out of the woods. It was like he had gotten exactly what he wanted."

“Carly, you know that news stories are not written based on gut feelings or the reporter's interpretation of facial expressions. You can't print your personal opinion on a subject and call it a news report, especially when you're making such serious allegations. I know this is just a college newspaper, but you need to stop and think how what you write may affect other people. And I don't just mean Sheriff Nagle. Billy Northcutt has family around here.

“The written word is a very powerful tool, and you have to use it responsibly. You already know all of this, Carly. I don't understand why we're even having this conversation. I expect a full retraction from you in the next edition."

“Fine,” Carly said, rising to her feet. “Are we done?"

“No. Sit back down."

Carly sighed then fell into the chair, resuming her slouching position and unindulgent countenance.

“Did you know Billy Northcutt? Was he a personal friend of yours?” Professor McCoy asked softly.

Carly shook her head. “No, I didn't know him. I'm starting to feel like I did, though."

Professor McCoy nodded. “Well, do you have some sort of personal vendetta against Sheriff Nagle that would make you accuse the man of murder? Did he give you a speeding ticket or something?"

“No. I don't trust him as far as I can throw him, but he's never done anything to me personally. Other than give me a good case of the heebie-jeebies."

The professor noted Carly's increasing impatience, evident by her rapidly drumming fingertips. He pressed on, hoping to uncover the stimulus behind her impassioned article. “So, how's Boyd Dennison doing? He'll really go places with his knack for computers. Are things going well between the two of you?

“Fine. Same as always,” she replied with a shrug.

“That's great. He's a very nice young man ... Your folks doing okay?"

Carly shifted in her seat, her head quickly turning toward the window. “Yep."

Bingo, Professor McCoy thought, regarding the brooding young woman who looked as though the fate of civilization rested in her small hands. “Carly, are things all right on the home front?"

“Of course,” came the customary answer.

“Well, I was sure surprised to hear that you had moved into the dorm. Any particular reason you would up and do that in the middle of the semester?"

Carly remained silent, shaking her head and looking dolefully into the professor's kind eyes.

Professor McCoy knew for certain he had his answer. He also knew pursuing the subject was futile. “Okay, Carly, you may go. If you're ever in need of an ear to bend, I'm always here."

* * * *

With a heart full of regret and self-hatred, Carly drove straight to her boyfriend's house in search of comfort and validation. Boyd's mother answered the door, and after giving Carly a warm embrace, directed her to Boyd's room, where he sat in his usual desk chair, entranced by the computer screen. Carly walked up behind him and placed her hands over his eyes. “Guess who?” she asked, disguising her voice.

“Someone who's in big trouble, if she doesn't let me finish this,” he said with a smile in his voice.

Carly uncovered his eyes and rested her chin on his shoulder. “Whatcha working on?” she asked before kissing him lightly on the neck.

Boyd continued to stare at the screen. “It's a program I'm writing for the agriculture department at school. It'll help out the Ag professor and get me a good grade at the same time. Check this out,” he said, clicking over to a different screen that was covered with charts and grafts.

“Cool,” she said with polite enthusiasm, resting her chin on his head and rubbing his chest with her hands.

Boyd explained in detail what each pie chart and grid line represented before clicking over to a screen with full animation of the effects of wind, rain, drought and pests on crops. Carly massaged his shoulders tenderly until he finished his demonstration. When he clicked back over to the original screen, she quickly swung herself into his lap, throwing her arms around his neck before he could resume typing. After kissing him long and lovingly, she rested her head on his shoulder and enjoyed the closeness and comfort of an un-hostile ally. Her peaceful moment was quickly shattered.

“Carly, I need to get this finished tonight,” he stated apologetically. “The Ag professor agreed to meet with me tomorrow morning to go over it and make sure it's to his liking. I've got to present it in class on Monday."

Carly sighed and rose from his lap. “But it's Friday, Boyd. I was hoping we could go to a movie tonight."

“Sorry, I can't. I ran into some kinks earlier that put me way behind."

Carly nodded with resignation and plopped down on the edge of his bed. “Okay. I'll get out of your hair, then. Did you happen to read the article I wrote in “The Speerings?"

Boyd began typing again. “No, not yet. I'll bet it's good, though."

She laughed bitterly. “Actually, I totally screwed it up. I've got to write a retraction in the next edition."

“What ever happened to freedom of the press?” he asked, grimacing from making a keying error.

“Well, I wrote something before I had all the hard, cold facts. It was a stupid move on my part and made me look like a complete idiot. I still believe what I wrote was the truth, but that's not enough to justify calling it a news story."

Boyd nodded absentmindedly, never taking his eyes from the screen. Carly watched her boyfriend furiously typing and clicking, her feelings of loneliness and isolation doubling from his disinterest. She waited a full minute to see if her words might sink into his preoccupied mind and cause him to realize that she was crying out for support, but his keying and neglect never waned. Rising from the bed, she pulled her keys from her pocket and walked to the door. “See ya later, I guess,” she said quietly.

“Yeah. See ya,” he said, quickly hopping up from his chair. After giving her a minuscule peck on the cheek, he returned to the computer and resumed his work. “I'll call you tomorrow."

Carly didn't feel the need to reply.

Consumed by her miserable thoughts, Carly never heard the rustling footsteps of the man slowly approaching from behind. “Hey, Lois Lane. Superman's here, baby,” a voice said seductively into her ear.

A terrified gasp escaped Carly, and she jumped up and spun around angrily. “Robby Coad! I'm going to kill you! You about scared me to death!"

The rookie deputy laughed, shaking a finger at her. “If I was a bad guy, you might have really been dead. What in the world are you doing out here all alone in the dark?"

Carly placed her hand across her pounding chest, trying to catch her breath. “Nothing. Just ... thinking."

“About me, I hope,” he said with a grin. “Seriously, Carly, you shouldn't be out here by yourself. It's dangerous."

“It's not dangerous. I feel perfectly safe knowing Sheriff Nagle and his band of bootlickers are patrolling the streets."

“Man, not that again! I thought writing that article might've gotten it out of your system."

“You read it?” she asked with amazement.

“Yeah, three or four times. I always read your articles. My cousin gets me a copy of The Speerings every week just so I can see what crazy thing you're going to say next."

Carly shook her head with bewilderment and sat back down in the swing. “So, what do you think about the crazy stuff I said this week?"

Rob looked skyward and tapped the side of his face with his finger as if in deep thought. “Well, first of all, I think you're insane. You're totally and completely whacked and doing some major head trippin'. But I have to admit; you've got guts. And a vivid imagination. Your spelling and grammar's real good, plus you really have a way with words."

She found herself laughing at Rob's seriously presented assessment. “Well, my professor thinks I'm whacked, too. You'll be glad to know that I have to take it all back in next week's paper. Not that it'll do any good. You can't really take words back. Once they're out there, they're out there for good. It's the sleaziest trick in a journalist's book—to write something you shouldn't then print a retraction the next time around. I can't believe I stooped so low."

“Well, if you'd just asked, I would've told you the whole story,” Rob said, squeezing his muscular frame into the swing next to hers.

“The whole story according to whom? Sheriff Adolph Nagle?"

“Sheesh, Carly, when are you going to let up on the man? Did you ever stop to think that maybe there was a perfectly reasonable explanation for what he did?"

“For killing a man? Well, this I gotta hear!"

Just as the deputy was about to explain, his partner's voice sounded over the radio. “Yo, Rob. Is everything okay out there?"

“Yes, sir, everything's under control. I'll be right back with you in a few,” Rob said into his radio, quickly standing to his feet.

His partner chuckled. “No problems here. Take your time, my man."

“Sorry about that,” Rob said to Carly, hooking his radio back onto his belt. “Okay, here's what happened in a nutshell. Northcutt was being transferred to another jail ‘cause he kept getting into fights with a new inmate. Sheriff Nagle was trying to do Northcutt a favor by getting him out of there so he wouldn't keep fighting and get turned down for parole. Well, I reckon the crazy fool thought he might just get turned down anyway ‘cause he grabbed the gun from the deputy who was transferring him and ran into the woods.

“Since Northcutt was armed and real unpredictable, Sheriff Nagle held us off ‘til the chopper could spot him. That way we'd know right where he was before we went in after him. The sheriff didn't want to risk any of us getting shot. When they finally spotted him from the air, it was too late. He was already on the ground and in a coma. Sheriff Nagle was just watching out for his men, Carly. He cares more about us than some run-away thief, and personally, I appreciate that!"

Carly nodded thoughtfully and stared at the ground. “Well, why'd the sheriff look like he did when they were carrying Billy's body out of the woods? He appeared to be real happy that the guy was dead."

“He was probably just glad that none of us had got hurt or worse. I'm sure he wasn't too broke up over Northcutt dying, but I doubt he was happy about it either."

Carly remained silent as she pondered Rob's account, feelings of guilt and regret steadily growing within her. Writing her retraction would be even more painful with a believable explanation to disprove her theory. A voice within continued to whisper that her original hunch rang true, but she knew a news story could not be reported based on small voices.

She suddenly realized that Rob was waiting for a response. “Well, the sheriff's got all his bases covered; I'll give you that."

Rob sighed. “You're hopeless. I've never met such a stubborn woman in all my life. It's a wonder Boyd can put up with you at all. Where is Mr. Excitement tonight, anyway?"

Carly looked back at the ground. “Doing homework,” she admitted dismally.

“Homework!? Well, if you were my girlfriend, you'd sure never be alone on a Friday night. Except the weeks I have to work this evening shift. Then I'd have to pry myself away from you just to get into work. As much as I love my job, I'd cuss it every time it kept me away from you."

Slowly raising her head, she gazed contemplatively at the shadow of a figure standing before her.

After several seconds of uncomfortable silence, Rob threw out his hands in frustration. “Well? I'm waiting!” he said abruptly.

Carly shook her head slightly, coming out of her reverie. “For what?"

“For the disrespectful comment about me or my profession or for the male gender in general. You always have something to say to cut me down to size."

She grinned then bit her lip shyly. “I have no comment at this time, Deputy Coad."

“You're pleading the fifth? Well, that's a first! I must finally be getting to you."

“Yeah, about like a gnat gets to sugar in a sealed up canister!” she said with a smirk

Rob kicked at a rock, a serious expression suddenly sprouting on his face. “Hmm ... A sealed up canister of sugar ... Now, that's the perfect description of you. Pure and sweet and real gritty on the inside. Locked up tight and maddeningly tempting on the outside."

Carly looked at Deputy Rob Coad as if seeing him for the very first time. She opened her mouth and waited for the witty, cutting remark to present itself, but the only sound that rang in her ears was the loud thumping of her heart. “Well, I'd better be going,” she heard herself finally mutter as she stood to her feet.

“Yeah, me, too. My partner's waiting for me. Sorry I scared you earlier, but when I saw your car parked out front, I thought I'd better make sure Boyd wasn't taking advantage of you back here in the dark."

An unintentional scoff left her mouth and she quickly cleared her throat. “I don't need you to protect me from Boyd or anybody else, thank you very much!"

“Well, when your daddy finds out about the stuff you've been writing, you'll definitely need protecting!"

“The only person I need protecting from is you. If you ever sneak up on me again, I'm going to write an unauthorized biography about you and title it, ‘Deputy Robby Coad: Armed and Desperate'."

Rob let out a good-natured laugh then silently walked Carly to her car, opening her door then hesitantly closing it when she was safely behind the wheel. As she started the engine, he tapped on her window with his flashlight. After rolling her eyes, she rolled down her window, and he cleared his throat nervously before peering in at her. “I just wanted to tell you that as soon as I get off work, I'm going to run home and change clothes then head over to Johnnie's Hangout. If you show up at eleven-thirty or so, you can be the first in line to dance with me."

Carly's heart began its loud thumping again. “Well, I'm not really one for standing in line. Or for dancing with smooth-talking cops. Besides, I've got a boyfriend, remember?"

“Yeah, I remember,” Rob stated bleakly. “I'm just trying to make you forget."

After Carly shook her head and pulled away, Rob walked to the patrol car and fell into the passenger seat, sighing loudly.

“Any luck this time?” his partner asked with a grin.

Rob shrugged. “Well, I definitely think she's starting to wear down a little. Maybe by the time I retire, I'll have her convinced to go out with me."

Four

Everyone on campus was talking about Carly's retraction. Her derogatory article on Sheriff Nagle was not nearly as shocking as her apology and recantation. It was expected of her to be incisive and controversial, but humble and contrite were words never before used to describe Carly Wright, the journalist.

Since her father was the mayor, it was assumed that he was responsible for squashing the latest addition to the Sheriff Nagle sagas. Everyone was well aware of what a different person Carly had become since her father was elected, her once fun-loving and outgoing spirit replaced by a reserved disposition that teeter-tottered on the brink of reclusiveness. The only portion of her former self that remained was her unrelenting investigative reporting that manifested into bold, uninhibited articles.

To the untrained eye, it now appeared that the mayor's iron fist had finally extinguished the last flicker of individualism that was Carly Wright. In actuality, this wasn't the case at all. The mayor's wife had established a strict policy of containment on any criticism or censorship of their daughter's writings, and with great difficulty, he complied. He also immediately paid a visit to Sheriff Nagle to personally apologize for his daughter's preposterous and unfounded accusations. Sheriff Nagle quickly assured the mayor that the fallacious ramblings of a college student in a local school newspaper were the very least of his worries.

When Carly arrived back at her dorm from English class, weary from her classmate's interrogations, she found a phone message awaiting her, listing a number but no name. Setting down her backpack, she dialed the number and announced her identity to the unfamiliar female voice that answered. She froze with surprise and panic, when the caller identified herself as Juanita Northcutt, the late Billy Northcutt's widow. The soft-spoken, young woman asked if it would be possible to pay Carly a visit at the dorm to discuss her article about Sheriff Nagle. Carly politely agreed to meet with her, and twenty curiosity-filled minutes later, she greeted Mrs. Billy Northcutt at the door and led her into a private gathering room.

After exchanging quick pleasantries, Juanita floored Carly with an astounding statement. “The reason I wanted to meet with you was to ask why you took back those things you said about Sheriff Nagle. He did kill my Billy!"

Carly's breathing ceased, and a deep frown formed on her brow. She had expected Juanita to be angry with her for broadcasting unpleasant theories about her husband's death, not for retracting her statements. “I'm so sorry, Juanita, but I had to take it back. I had no proof for my accusations ... Do you?"

Juanita shook her head. “No. But I know in my heart that it happened almost exactly like you said it did. Sheriff Nagle had it in for Billy from the very first day he arrested him.

“Billy was a car thief. He used to steal any car he could get his hands on and sell off the parts. Well, the last car he ever stole was a souped-up hot rod that belonged to a friend of the sheriff's. I don't know if you know this, but the sheriff's a car fanatic. He has a collection of old hot rods at his house, and he babies them like they're part of the family. The sheriff told Billy that he'd committed two unpardonable sins. First, he stole from one of the sheriff's personal friends and second, he ruined a classic car by parting it out. He told Billy he'd pay him back a hundred fold for his crimes, and I believe that's just what he did. He made sure Billy had his insulin long enough to do hard time in jail, then when he was up for parole, the sheriff found a way to deny it. Permanently!"

Carly shook her head sympathetically. “But I heard that Billy took an officer's gun and escaped when he was being transferred."

Juanita scoffed. “Billy was afraid of guns. And there's no way he'd try and escape from the police, especially without his insulin. His worse fear was going into a coma and dying. I don't believe their cockamamie story about Billy getting into fights with another inmate, either. He may've been a thief, but he was no fighter.

“And think about it, Carly. Why would Sheriff Nagle do him a favor by moving him to another prison to keep him from being turned down for parole? He did nothing but threaten Billy and intimidate him from his very first day in custody. It don't make no sense. Billy used to tell me how afraid he was of the sheriff. He would've never done anything to ruin his chances of getting away from him. And he sure wouldn't have took off into the woods without his insulin. I knew my Billy. He was no angel, but he sure wouldn't have done the things they're claiming he did."

Carly frowned and nodded. “I'm really sorry, Juanita. I wish I knew what else to say."

“That's okay. I just figured that somebody made you take back your story, and I wanted you to know that you were right the first time. It was nice to find out that somebody in this town was on my side and wasn't happy that Billy had died."

Juanita let out a sob, finally giving in to her grief.

Carly grabbed the widow's trembling hand and spoke softly. “I'm so sorry ... Have you told anybody else about this? Like an attorney?"

“No,” Juanita answered quickly, wiping away her tears. “I'm not going to fight the almighty Sheriff Nagle. You can't win a fight with him. You've heard the stories. He does whatever he wants and everybody thinks it's just grand as long as this county's safe. I used to feel the same way ‘til it hit home. And it hit home real hard!"

“But, maybe a lawyer could—"

“No! I have a little boy. Who knows what Sheriff Nagle would do if I went against him? He let a man die because of a stupid car! Why kind of person does something like that? I hate his guts for what he did to me and my son, but I'm not going to risk having him hurt us anymore. We're moving out of this town as soon as I get everything together. Please promise me you won't tell anybody. I just wanted to meet the girl who had guts enough to print the truth, and I wanted to thank you for it. I also wanted to tell you to be careful. I wished you hadn't taken your article back, but I know it's best for you that you did."

“But he shouldn't just get away with this. We need to talk to somebody. My dad's the mayor, maybe he—"

“No!” Juanita said, nearly shouting. “If you tell a soul, I'll swear you're lying!"

“Okay, I won't say a thing. I promise,” Carly said, holding up her right hand.

Juanita softened. “I didn't mean to burden you with all of this. I just wanted you to know that you were right. I think you already knew it, though, didn't you?"

Carly looked into Juanita's tearful eyes and nodded slowly. “Yeah ... But I sure didn't want to be."

The remainder of the week, Carly tossed and turned in her bed in spite of the hypnotic sound of falling rain that had been ushered in by a meandering cold front. She couldn't stop thinking about Juanita's sad eyes or the little boy who would grow up without knowing his father. The heavy millstone of secret knowledge—that she was unable to use to bring about long overdue justice—only added more sleepless hours to her nights.

After three days of unstoppable rain and an unappeasable restlessness, she decided to take action. She phoned Billy Northcutt's mother and asked if they could meet to discuss her son's demise. A number of unfavorable names were immediately broadcasted through the line before the dial tone echoed in Carly's ear. The rest of the Northcutt clan were just as helpful. Not one of Billy's family members was willing to discuss his life or his death with the college student who had come too close to their concept of the truth for comfort. Billy's cousin and boss, Pete Northcutt, rudely asked Carly to leave his auto parts shop immediately, saying that if she wanted to know why his cousin was dead, she should ask Sheriff Saul Nagle himself.

Carly knew she should've gone straight to the source at the beginning of her investigation, but she had no desire to be in the presence of a power-hungry murderer who would only infuriate her with lies. Knowing she couldn't take another sleepless night, however, she drove in the direction of the sheriff's department, telling herself that a good journalist marches bravely toward the war zone with no concern for anything except uncovering the truth.

After ten minutes of driving around and around Town Square working up her courage, she whipped into a parking spot in front of the Plites County sheriff's department and quickly walked inside before she changed her mind. With shaky legs, she marched straight to the clerk's desk outside Sheriff Nagle's office and asked if he was free to meet with her. While she waited for an answer, Deputy Rob Coad strolled into the office as if on cue and spotted her immediately. He sprinted toward her just in time to hear that the sheriff would be glad to see her.

“What on earth are you doing, Carly?” he asked, planting himself firmly in front of the sheriff's door.

Carly crossed her arms in front of her. “If you'll get out of my way, I'm going to conduct an interview with Sheriff Nagle."

“Oh, no you're not,” Rob said quietly but firmly, taking her arm and pulling her away from the door.

“Let go of me right now, Robby! You're obstructing justice and impeding my first amendment rights."

“Ah, you reporters and your so-called rights ... Look, I know you don't believe it, but my boss is the best sheriff around. I look up to him and respect him more than any officer I've ever met. But he don't like to have his methods or his decisions questioned by anybody, especially a college kid. He has a bad temper and can yell real loud. I'm just looking out for you, Carly. I don't want you to get your feelings hurt."

Carly had to force her eyes away from the deputy's tender, concerned gaze. “Well, don't worry about me. When I conduct an interview, I leave my feelings at the door."

Rob laughed bitterly. “Yeah, and when you're around me, you leave your heart at the door!"

She hesitated slightly before stalking past the rookie. “That's where you're wrong, Deputy Coad. I've always been told that journalists have no heart."

Rob quickly followed and grabbed her raised wrist, stopping her knuckle just before it tapped on the sheriff's door. “Oh, you've got a heart. You seem to have lost the instruction manual for it, but I know you've got one. Please, don't do this, Carly,” he pleaded, his thumb gently stroking the top of her hand as he retained his grip on her wrist.

“I have to, Robby. I'll be fine,” she reassured him, rapping on the Sheriff's door with her other hand, causing the rookie to release her and step back out of view.

When Carly received permission to enter, she opened the door and boldly walked into the same office that caused full-grown men to tremble when summoned to it. Rob shook his head as the door closed, an unexpected smile forming on his lips. “Man! I've got to get that girl. I've just got to!"

Five

When Carly entered Sheriff Nagle's office, she was greeted with the smell of stale cigar smoke and a firm handshake. The sheriff motioned for her to sit in the tiny chair facing his huge desk, which held stacks of dog-eared papers, an ashtray full of cigar butts, and a large “No Smoking” plaque. Just being in Sheriff Nagle's presence made Carly feel as though she were inhaling air poisoned with vileness and evil doing. As she took a seat, she said a silent prayer that the demons inhabiting the room might be cast out until her interview ended.

The sheriff's expression held a mixture of amusement, amazement, and lust, and Carly avoided eye-contact by opening her notepad and jotting the date at the top of the page. When she glanced back up and met the sheriff's deep-set eyes, he smiled at her questioningly as if waiting for an explanation for her impromptu visit. His jagged smile reminded her of a documentary recently presented by a fellow student in her journalism class.

The short film had been entitled, “Crocodiles: Pure Evil or Just Plain Hungry?", and Sheriff Nagle embodied both the attitude and physical attributes of the main characters. His eyelids hardly ever blinked, and his mouth appeared to hold twice as many teeth as was the norm. His severely craggy face, large nose, and wavy ash-brown hair, which was greased straight back on his head, further emphasized his crocodilian appearance.

As Carly cleared her throat to begin her interview, Sheriff Nagle took charge of the conversation. “You sure have grown up into a beautiful woman, Carly. It's a good thing you took after your mama, I reckon,” he said with a chuckle.

Carly forced herself to smile. “Thank you. I'm here today because I want to interview you for my school newspaper. I specifically want to discuss Billy Northcutt."

The sheriff raised his thick eyebrows. “I thought that subject was closed. I've already answered every one of the real news people's questions. What else could you possibly need to know on the subject?"

“I'd like to know why you were smiling and eating cookies when a man had just died because of your actions."

The bold question caused Sheriff Nagle's immobile eyelids to blink rapidly three times before a deep, raspy laugh escaped his thin lips. “Well, I was eating cookies ‘cause I like cookies. I reckon I was smiling for the same dad-blame reason."

“Well, I don't understand how you could do either when a young man's lifeless body was being loaded into an ambulance right in front of you. Especially since he may've still been alive if you'd sent your men right in after him."

The sheriff sighed, the expression of amusement remaining. “I'm sure the sight of a dead body is disturbing to most civilians like yourself, but I've been in the law enforcement business so long it doesn't faze me no more. It's just another day on the job. And I will never feel guilty about protecting my men from escaped criminals who are armed and dangerous. Or about eating cookies and smiling! Now, does that clear things up for you?"

Carly did not divert her eyes from the sheriff's intimidating glare. “Can you explain how a five-foot-seven, one hundred and sixty pound man overtakes a six-foot-two, two hundred and fifty pound armed cop?"

Sheriff Nagle frowned and shook his head sadly. “Your daddy came here a couple of weeks ago and apologized for that article you wrote about me in your school newspaper. I thought maybe you were here to do the same thing, especially since I heard you printed a retraction last week. Now you come in here asking me questions that just ooze with doubt and suspicion, which leads me to believe that you still think I'm guilty. That hurts me, Carly. It really does."

She stared silently at him as he continued.

“I confessed something to your daddy last week, and I'd like to confess it to you, too. But you're going to have to set down that pen of yours and promise me you won't repeat this to anybody."

“I have a responsibility to let the people know the truth,” she stated, her pen still postured to write.

“The people? Which people? The fifty citizens of Doral College?” the sheriff asked with a sarcastic laugh. “Well, what I'm going to tell you is strictly off the record, or it'll remain my and your daddy's little secret forever."

Carly pressed her lips together and tapped her pen on her notepad, debating whether or not she really wanted additional knowledge she wasn't allowed to share with the general public. Knowing she'd hate herself even more if she didn't give ear to the sheriff's confession, she set her pen down on top of notepad and nodded. “You have my word."

The sheriff also gave a quick nod. “Good. Now, I know it must've took a lot of guts for you to come in here and face me today, especially if you've listened to other folks’ opinion of me. Everybody thinks I'm a big, mean ogre that bites the head off anybody who says bad things about me.

“Well, the truth is I like for folks to be afraid of me. I like it that everybody in the state of Tennessee knows who Sheriff Saul Nagle is. I like it ‘cause it makes criminals think twice before they come around here stirring up trouble. The rougher they believe I'll be on them, the less likely they'll be to do something that lands them in my jail. Plites County didn't get to be the safest county in the state for nothing. It's because of folks like you who love to spread tales about its intolerant sheriff."

“You mean you don't mind people thinking that you intentionally set a prisoner free just so you could let him die?"

“Nope. It keeps my jail from getting overcrowded like all the others around the country. If Plites County stays safe ‘cause folks are afraid to commit a crime, then let the gossip fly. I will admit, though; it does bother me for a pretty, young thing like you to look at me with such hostility and suspicion. Can't we be friends, Carly? I'd really like to be your friend."

Carly cringed at the way Sheriff Nagle's eyes quickly swept over her entire being before returning to meet her uncomfortable gaze. Ignoring his comment, she picked up her pen, pressing the tip against the notepad. “While I find your confession to be interesting—and a little disturbing—it doesn't answer my original question. Just how does a man of such small statue wrestle a weapon away from an officer almost twice his size, especially if said prisoner was in shackles?"

Sheriff Nagle's lips twitched with amusement. “I've seen a lot of strange things happen in this business, Carly. This is just another one to add to the list."

“Was Billy Northcutt in shackles?"

“No. I don't put non-violent prisoners in shackles when they're being transferred."

“But earlier you called Billy Northcutt an escapee who was armed and dangerous. Was he dangerous or not? And if not, why didn't you send your men in after him?"

“Once he was armed, yes, he was considered dangerous, even though he had never been arrested for a violent crime."

“And just how'd he get your officer's gun away from him?"

“I reckon the little squirt was just faster. Boy, you don't let up ‘til you get what you're after, do you? Are you this forceful with that boyfriend of yours?” he asked with a provocative grin.

Carly's eyes narrowed. “Are you in the habit of making suggestive remarks to girls less than half your age? And believe me; the answer to this question will not be off the record!"

The sheriff's grin melted. “There was obviously a miscommunication here. I have nothing but respect for you, and I'd never say something out of the way to any woman. Why do you want to keep hurting me with these unfair accusations, Carly? Your daddy seems to trust and respect me. Why don't you?"

“My daddy's a politician. He's paid to trust and respect you. Did you have a personal vendetta against Billy Northcutt because he stole your friend's car?"

“Boy, you have done your homework, haven't you?” the sheriff asked with a surprised expression. “Well, naturally, I didn't like it that the weasel stole from my buddy, but this is a small town. I usually know someone who's involved in just about every crime that's committed. But when I'm on the job, I leave my personal feelings at home. Maybe you should try it sometimes. What'd I ever do to cause you to despise me so?"

“This isn't a personal issue for me. I'm just trying to find out the truth."

“Well, the truth was printed in the newspapers days ago. I would've thought an aspiring young journalist like yourself would at least read what the real reporters had to say. Then you'd see the right way to report a news story."

“Did you intentionally hem Billy Northcutt up in the woods without his insulin and let him die, Sheriff Nagle?” she asked loudly, very ready to conclude the interview and leave the sheriff's presence.

“No,” he answered without an ounce of emotion in his voice or on his face.

She studied the sheriff, looking for any twitch or flicker that might belie his answer. After quickly reminding herself that a news story could not be reported based on a facial quiver, she rose to her feet. “Thank you for your time, Sheriff."

“The interview's over already?” he asked with disappointment, following her to the door. “We were just starting to really get to know each other. You can drop by for an interview anytime, Carly. And feel free to print whatever you want about me. Folks like you help keep my reputation from fading. Keep up the good work. Bye, now."

Carly calmly exited the sheriff's office, feeling the heaviness of his eyes upon her all the way to the front door of the building. Once outside, she ran full speed to her car, falling into the driver's seat and quickly locking the doors. She felt as though she had been in the presence of Satan himself and was being used to help further his evil cause.

If she truly believed that the Sheriff Nagle stories were merely folklore, she would have no problem in reporting them as such, for many were harmless, amusing tales of ingenuity. However, her strong conviction that he was even more wicked and corrupt than depicted in the most disturbing of the rumors, along with the fact that he enjoyed being viewed as such, deflated her desire to publish any more of the Sheriff Nagle chronicles. While she longed for people to know the truth, she hated the thought of assisting the sheriff in his twisted game of tyranny. And while she felt thankful to be living in a safe town, she wondered who would keep the citizens safe from the man in charge of protecting them.

As she massaged her tense neck muscles with her fingers, pondering the complexity of her dilemma, she jumped with a start when a tap sounded at her window. After making sure the tapper was not Sheriff Nagle, she let out her breath and rolled down the window. “Robby, I told you not to sneak up on me like that!"

“Sorry. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. Are you?” he asked, standing in the rain without an umbrella but appearing not to mind.

“I'm fine. But you're soaking wet! Get back in there and stop wasting tax dollars."

“Well, why don't you make a citizen's arrest and take me into custody, baby? You've been holding my heart prisoner for a long time already."

As Carly rolled her eyes and started rolling up her window, Rob quickly drew his nightstick, stopping the glass before it reached the top. “Seriously, Carly, are you all right? Sheriff Nagle didn't yell at you or hurt your feelings, did he?” he asked, wiping the rain from his eyes as he peered through the small slot.

“No. After being in his presence, I feel like I need to go to church and take a few dips in the baptismal pool, though. He was courteous enough for the most part, I guess."

“Did you get answers to all your questions?"

“No. All I got was more questions. I haven't made up my mind whether I want the answers or not."

Rob nodded thoughtfully. “Well, if I can help in any way, don't hesitate to call, day or night. You have my number, right?"

She loosened the window's grip on the nightstick and pushed it through to the other side. “Oh, I've got your number, alright,” she said, quickly rolling up the window and driving away, leaving the infatuated deputy standing crestfallen in the rain.

Carly made it back to campus just in time for her weekly meeting with the other writers for the school newspaper. While the rest of the students mingled, Carly organized her notes before whistling loudly and calling the meeting to order. As she presented her ideas for the next edition, Wyatt Gurnell, the grossly overweight and perpetually late arrival, burst into the room, interrupting Carly mid-sentence. “Hold the presses!” he exclaimed breathlessly. “I've got my greasy little paws on the story to end all stories. You'll never believe what my next door neighbor's boss’ uncle told him this afternoon."

Carly sighed. “Wyatt, the last time you claimed you had the story of the year, we all ended up in Mrs. Thaxton's barn helping deliver her twin calves instead of the two-headed one you swore was going to come out."

“Yeah, I know. But this time, it's the real deal. I promise!"

“Okay. Go ahead. But make it quick,” she ordered, tossing down her pen.

Wyatt turned to face the other students. “Okay, I found out that Sheriff Nagle is taking some of the prisoners out of jail and having them work from sun up to sun down building a garage on his own personal property. He's not allowed to do that! I'm pretty sure the TV stations and newspapers don't have a hold of this one yet. If we hurry, we can be the first to report it."

As everyone enthusiastically asked questions and discussed possibilities, Carly shook her head. “Sorry, folks. No more Sheriff Nagle stories. We need a topic that's new and fresh."

Wyatt looked at her with an exasperated frown. “Didn't you hear me, Carly? We can be the very first ones to report this story. We'll have to get right on it and work all night, but just think how cool it'll be to beat the rest of the media to a story!"

All heads nodded in agreement, but Carly continued to shake hers. “No. It's totally out of the question. Now, let's get back to my ideas."

Wyatt dramatically threw has hand over his forehead. “I can't believe it! Hell has actually frozen over! The self-proclaimed greatest journalist in Plitesville isn't interested in being the first on the scene for a breaking news story. Someone please wake me from this insane dream!"

Carly stared at her notes and waited for the laughter to die down. “Look, everybody. I'd love to beat the other reporters to a story just as much as you would, but I think this is a topic that's been done to death. Do y'all really believe anybody wants to read another story about a sheriff who thinks he's above the law?"

A resounding “yes” filled the room followed by adamant opinions and unyielding insistence that they must pursue Wyatt's lead. As Carly stared wearily at the floor, Wyatt walked up to her with his hands on his wide hips. “I never thought I'd see the day that Carly Wright got soft and let the establishment trample on her first amendment rights. I guess it's really true that everybody has a price. I just can't believe you'd sell out for the sake of a politician. I don't care if he is your daddy."

“This isn't about my father,” she stated defensively.

“Oh, so it's Professor McCoy, then. He must've laid down the law and killed all Sheriff Nagle stories after that last one you wrote."

Carly shook her head. “No. It's something else..."

“Well, whatever it is, it's not right. What happened to your hunger? What happened to your edge? It's sad enough that you've turned into the antisocial president of Dullsville! Now, you're going to hang up your thirst for cutting edge journalism, too?"

Carly tapped her fingers on the desk as Wyatt's razor sharp words sliced through her apprehension. While she detested being a pawn in Sheriff Nagle's warped game of oppression, she had a responsibility to inform the residents of Plites County when one of their elected officials was practicing an illegal act.

After mere seconds of silent deliberation, she clapped her hands together loudly. “Okay, folks, let's do this. Nicole, you and Stephanie go find out just what the law says about putting prisoners to work on personal property. Wyatt, Jacob, and Ashley, grab your cameras and video equipment. We'll head on over to the sheriff's place and see what we can dig up. The rest of you stay here and throw together some more stories and quick. We're printing a special early edition that'll be out first thing in the morning. With any luck, the media won't get a hold of this story before then. Okay, let's get to work."

Six

“Ssshhh,” Carly hissed with her index finger over her lips as she and the other Speerings staff members hid in the wet thicket surrounding Sheriff Nagle's property. Although the rain had finally stopped falling, it felt as though the world and all that was in it was drenched to the core. The sound of voices, saws and hammers could be heard in the distance, but the tall hedge, serving to camouflage the young reporters, covered a high wooden privacy fence that impeded their ability to trespass. They searched for loose boards and even tried to pry a few from their base, but they were sorely unequipped, thus, sorely unsuccessful.

Wyatt and Jacob attempted to hoist Carly over the fence, but Sheriff Nagle had built it just tall enough to keep out the average size intruder. Once back on the ground, Carly motioned for the group to follow as she stealthily crept around the perimeter toward the backside of the estate. When they reached the grazing pasture for the sheriff's prize-winning Brahma bull, they discovered that the area was secured with shorter chain link fencing rather than the impenetrable wooden obstruction. “Looks like we found our way in,” Carly stated with a victorious smile.

“Are you out of your mind?” Jacob asked with an anxious expression. “There's a two-thousand-pound watchdog behind that fence! I'm not getting in there with him!"

“Me neither,” Ashley said, shaking her head vigorously.

“Aw, come on, you chickens,” Wyatt taunted. “Ernie won't hurt you. I saw him at the fair last fall. He's just a big, ol’ baby."

“Yeah, a big, ol’ baby with horns and a bad attitude! No way, man,” Jacob said firmly.

Carly emerged from the bushes, where she had been surveying the situation. “I don't even see Ernie in there. Maybe he's in the barn or in a different pasture. Let's go for it."

Jacob and Ashley looked at one another then simultaneously handed their cameras to Carly and Wyatt. “Have fun, you two. We'll wait out here and pray for you,” Jacob stated seriously.

“Amateurs,” Wyatt said, shaking his head and taking Jacob's video camera. “Come on, Carly. Let's show these greenhorns how it's done. After you, my lady,"

“No, after you,” Carly insisted, gracefully holding her hand out in front of the fence as she strapped Ashley's camera around her neck.

“My father taught me that ladies should always be allowed to go first. I promise I'm right behind you."

“Well, my father taught me not to trust grinning idiots. Especially when they're holding a video camera, just waiting to get a shot of a bull charging me!"

“Would I do that?” he asked innocently. “Okay, let's go together. We'll climb to the top of the fence then jump over on the count of three."

“Agreed,” Carly said, pushing through the thicket and taking a long last look from one end of the pasture to the other.

When they were both sitting atop the fence with one leg hooked over the other side, they stared intently at one another, each taking deep breaths. Jacob and Ashley watched with nervous anticipation, waiting for the fateful countdown to begin. The two gallant reporters remained motionless on their perch, each waiting for the other to start the count. When Carly opened her mouth to initiate the moment of truth, Wyatt quickly held up his index finger to stop her. Apparently, he decided that now was the time to make sure the video camera didn't fail him during their mission. After painstakingly ensuring that the equipment was in proper working order, he gave Carly a slight nod. She opened her mouth again but suddenly stopped and scratched her nose vigorously as if she had the most severe itch in the history of the world.

Jacob looked at Ashley and rolled his eyes. “Good grief! Would you two bags of hot air jump already? One, two, three!"

In spite of Jacob's count, Carly and Wyatt remained on the fence, staring silently at one another. Suddenly a wide, contagious grin broke out on Carly's face, immediately infecting Wyatt's, and they both leaped to the ground, running as fast as they could in the direction of the sheriff's house. Jacob and Ashley climbed to the top of the fence, keeping a watchful eye out for Ernie.

In mere seconds, the overweight, out-of-shape Wyatt glanced behind him then slowed his pace to a trot. No longer hearing Wyatt's gasps for breath, Carly glanced back and frowned but also slowed when she realized they were not being pursued by a vicious bovine. She and Wyatt jogged side-by-side toward the wall of trees that marked their sharp turn just ahead, not knowing if an angry bull or armed guard awaited them around the bend.

All of a sudden, Wyatt's foot hit a fresh pile of Ernie droppings, causing him to slide across the wet grass flailing wildly like a novice ice skater. Carly instinctively reached out and grabbed him firmly by the forearm, but his weight and frenzied motion knocked her to the ground with him just before they reached the mysterious curve.

Wyatt lay flat of his back, breathing loudly and still holding Jacob's video camera straight up in the air as he had done during the great fall. Carly ended up sprawled out on her stomach, facedown in the waterlogged grass, Ashley's prized camera slung safely behind her back.

Although worried about their friends, as well as giving themselves away, Ashley and Jacob could not contain their laughter. Carly raised her head quickly, shooting her mirthful audience a sharp glare, but soon found herself snickering as she lifted her soaked self to her knees. Wyatt slowly pulled himself up, too, causing her snickering to grow into laughter. Her laughter immediately turned into muffled squealing when her partner in crime waved his manure-covered sneaker in her face, bringing her to a standing position.

As Wyatt rocked himself to his feet, Ashley's laughter quickly change to terrified screaming. Ernie had emerged from a small group of trees mere yards for the scene of the fall and was staring directly at her comrades! The massive bull had been enjoying an afternoon nap under the umbrella of maples until the annoying sound of youth brought him out of his hay and heifer-filled dreams.

Ashley continued to scream and point at Ernie, who stood motionless, blinking sleepily at the horrified students. Jacob tired to shush her and at the same time wave his arms wildly and point at the bull. The two trespassers inside the fence held no doubt as to what loomed over their shoulders. Carly slowly turned around and drew in a quick breath at the sight of the large, gray bull watching them from the shadows of the trees. “Hey, shut up!” she yelled to Ashley.

Wyatt remained frozen in his spot, looking too terrified to turn around and face reality. “What now?” he whispered to his cohort.

Carly swallowed hard. “I'm not sure. He doesn't look like he's going to charge, but who knows what he'll do if we move?"

“I say we run back to where we came from, jump the fence, and forget the whole thing,” Wyatt said, hardly moving his lips.

“We've come so far; I hate to turn back now,” Carly whispered, slowly raising the camera and snapping a picture of the beast. “I say we go for it."

“No way! I like the pursuit of a good story as much as the next reporter, but this is crazy. Let's get out of here!"

“It can't be that much further to the house. Let's slowly and calmly walk around the bend and see what's ahead."

“You've lost your mind, Carly! What if there's no way out of this fence around the corner? We'll become Ernie's little play toys and there'll be nothing left of us but two little grease spots on the grass."

“I thought you said Ernie was a big, ol’ baby. Come on, Wyatt. We have to go for it. We just have to!"

Wyatt remained silent, staring at the horrified faces of Jacob and Ashley. For a moment, Carly thought he might attempt to run back to them but his expression held a distinct look of doubt in his own physical abilities. When he made the mistake of glancing at her, he received a look that announced her intentions to make his life miserable if he ran away like a coward. She made his choice crystal clear. He had no choice.

“All right,” he said with resignation. “But if you make it and I don't, please tell my mother I love her, okay?"

Before Carly could reply, he charged full speed toward the sharp turn, the rhythmic swishing of his thighs counting down what could be the last seconds of his short life. So much for walking slowly and calmly around the bend, Carly thought, taking a quick glance at Ernie, who was staring after Wyatt with an antsy curiosity that reeked of trouble. When he took two purposeful steps toward the fleeing young reporter, Carly waved her arms wildly. “Hey, Ernie! You don't want him. I'm the one you're really after. Come and get me, you big ol’ bag of hamburger!"

As Ernie pawed the ground, letting out short, angry snorts, Carly turned and ran faster than she had ever run in her life. Ashley and Jacob pounded their fists on the fence to divert Ernie's attention, but the Brahma stayed on course. With a petite fireball of a woman in his sights, he appeared to delight in the opportunity to spear one of the rude humans who had interrupted his daily nap.

As their lead reporter disappeared around the bend, Jacob and Ashley jumped down from the fence and raced toward Ernie, wearing horrified expressions when the bull's tail flapped around the curve.

Carly rounded the manmade curb of trees and was relieved to see a gate leading into Sheriff Nagle's huge wooded backyard. Wyatt already waited on the other side, his hand furiously outstretched to his partner. She grabbed it and started her climb, but Wyatt's terror had turned his hand slick and clammy, causing her to fall onto her backside with a thud. Wyatt gasped as Carly scrambled back onto her feet and glanced back at the charging bull quickly gaining ground. “Take my hand!” he screamed, stretching as far as his short arm could reach.

“No,” she said calmly, taking three large steps backward. In Ernie's direction!

“What are you doing?” Wyatt screamed, staring in horror at tiny Carly, framed by a gray, two-thousand-pound backdrop.

With Ernie in dangerously close pursuit, Carly suddenly switched gears and dashed toward the fence. Just as the bull lowered his head to strike, his horn inches from the small of her back, she leaped into the air and scaled up the gate with one swift motion, jumping to safety and rolling with relief on the thin layer of wet pine straw on the other side.

Wyatt jumped from the gate to the ground, watching with terror as Ernie angrily butted the gate, a large horn ramming through the wooden planks.

Out of breath and soaking wet, Carly knelt on the cool, sodden ground and raised her head toward the gate. Very slowly, a smile spread across her face at the sight of the frustrated bull glaring at her through the fence. “I just love being a reporter,” she said in between huffs.

Wyatt crumpled onto the ground, one hand across his chest. Staring at his partner, he shook his head with utter disbelief at her animated expression.

While the two reporters continued to catch their breath, Jacob and Ashley appeared from around the bend. They quickly made a U-turn and ran back toward their refuge when they witnessed their consorts alive and Ernie still irate. The bull, completely unaware that two additional humans had violated his domain, continued to glower at Carly and Wyatt as if daring them to challenge him further. Standing a safe distance from the fence, Wyatt did challenge him, but this time with a loud and long raspberry, his thumbs placed in his ears, fingers wiggling tauntingly at the bull.

Carly stood to her feet and brushed herself off before walking right up to the gate and stooping down to speak with the animal face to face. “Don't be embarrassed that you got outrun by a girl. I'm sure you've got other good qualities. Like flavor! Just kidding, Ernie. This was fun. Let's do it again sometimes."

“Well, you're doing it without me!” Wyatt stated seriously, checking the video camera for signs of damage.

After determining that both cameras were still intact, they covertly made their way through the woods toward Sheriff Nagle's house, running tiptoe from tree to tree like two cartoon characters, all the while drawing closer to the sounds of construction. When they could see the frame of the huge garage, they crept to the widest pine tree nearest the clearing and assessed the situation. There were at least eight men working on the project, each of them wearing the official Plites county jail fatigues. A white van parked on the other side of the construction site was partially visible from Carly and Wyatt's perspective, but the armed deputy leaning against it was perfectly in view.

Thankful that Ashley's camera had a built-in zoom lens, Carly quietly raised it to her eye to click several pictures of the illegal activity. Wyatt also filmed the action, his grin revealing his joyfulness at being the first on the scene of a hot news story. Carly set down her camera and whispered to her associate. “We have to show that this is the sheriff's property. Got any ideas?"

“None that won't land us in jail. I'd ask if you have an idea, but I'm really afraid of the answer."

Carly snickered under her breath. “Well, I actually do have an idea. But I don't think you're going to like it."

“No doubt,” he whispered, shaking his head wearily. “But go ahead and tell me anyway."

It took Carly ten minutes to convince Wyatt that her plan would be the only way to complete the enormous task with which they had assigned themselves. They debated back and forth, struggling to keep their voices down, the disputation becoming very heated at times. Wyatt finally conceded when Carly presented the defining argument. “What happened to your hunger? What happened to your edge? Sound familiar, Wyatt? Now, you know we can't leave here without going the distance on this thing. Are you in or not, ‘cause I'm doing it, with you or without you!"

Wyatt sighed and nodded. “I wonder how long it'll take them to find my cold, lifeless body in these dense woods."

The most difficult part of Carly's game plan was the waiting. Their clothing damp through and through, both students shivered from the wetness, as well as the anticipation, while crouched behind the trees in the cool evening air. After what seemed like infinity, the time to take action arrived, and Carly hopped up without hesitation, grabbing Wyatt by the arm and helping him to his feet.

As he took deep breaths, Carly stepped out from behind the tree and marched audaciously toward Sheriff Nagle, who had arrived home from work in his patrol car. Spotting Carly immediately, he hurried from his vehicle and stalked toward her, a mixture of surprise and annoyance covering his face. “I believe you're trespassing, Miss Wright. Just what do you call yourself doing, traipsing around my property like you belong here?"

Before answering, Carly turned to make sure Wyatt was filming the confrontation, but found that he had remained in his hiding place, peeking at her from around the tree. Frantically gesturing for him to join her, she silently waited until her assistant arrived by her side, video camera rolling. A deputy had joined Sheriff Nagle, his hand resting on his nightstick, but the sheriff held him off and waited for the mayor's daughter to explain herself.

When she finally complied, she made sure to use her most professional reporter voice. “I'm here to ask about the construction crew that's building your garage. Are they inmates from the Plites county jail, and if so, why are they here? Isn't it against the law for them to be working on your personal property?"

Sheriff Nagle looked straight into Wyatt's lens and scowled. “And just who are you supposed to be?"

“Don't answer that,” Carly instructed Wyatt, whose brow now glistened with beads of perspiration. “Sheriff Nagle, we represent The Speerings, and we want to know why you think you have permission to break the law when you're in charge of upholding it."

Carly could hear a soft moan escape Wyatt's throat as the sheriff turned toward her with eyes flashing. “I reckon the same reason the mayor's daughter thinks she has permission to break the law by trespassing. What's your daddy going to say when he finds out about this?"

“This isn't about the mayor or his daughter,” she stated calmly. “It's about a sheriff who drags prisoners out of jail and has them build a garage on his property without paying them for their work. Have you single-handedly brought slavery back to the South, Sheriff Nagle?"

Wyatt swallowed hard when the sheriff gave her a murderous glare. The deputy had obviously heard enough. “You want me to arrest them both for trespassing, sir?” he asked, reaching for his handcuffs.

Sheriff Nagle didn't answer right away. He regarded Carly with a calculating expression, his eyes squinted with displeasure. Suddenly, his face relaxed into an obnoxious smile. “No. We're not going to arrest these two curious young people. They came here for a story, and they're going to get one. Carly believes I'm a slave driver, and it's my duty to prove to this pretty, little thing that nothing could be further from the truth. Deputy Mills, please escort her and her friend over to the crew, and let them ask all the questions they want. I believe that's where the real story is."

Three frowning and confused faces stared at him in disbelief. The deputy pulled the grinning sheriff aside. “Sir, I don't want to question your authority, but do you really think this is a good idea?"

“Just do it!” Sheriff Nagle hissed under his breath. “And when they're through with their little interview, hold fat boy by your car and bring the girl back to me."

“Yes, sir,” Deputy Mills said with a quick nod, turning and walking toward the two confounded students.

When the deputy took Carly by the arm to lead her to the busy workers, she wiggled out of his grip, pivoting quickly and walking back toward the sheriff. “I'm not through interviewing you,” she announced, standing firmly in front of him.

The sheriff smiled pleasantly. “I'll be glad to talk to you when you're done with the others. In fact, I'm really looking forward to it,” he said, blatantly looking her up and down.

Carly cringed and quickly turned away from his lascivious gaze, knowing she had yielded to his twisted form of intimidation, but unable to stand his eyes upon her for even a second. Running back to Wyatt, she shrugged at him uncertainly as they walked with the deputy toward the laboring inmates.

Deputy Mills commanded Carly and Wyatt to wait by the van before he turned to whisper the sheriff's instructions to the armed guard keeping watch over the prisoners. As the guard looked in their direction and nodded, Wyatt stared wide-eyed at the deputy's shotgun. “I don't know what possessed me to listen to you,” he whispered harshly to Carly.

Carly nodded. “It'll be fine,” she assured him, wondering why he had listened to her.

Hadn't it only been a few weeks since he wrote that piece about her in The Speerings? The piece where he said, “Under normal circumstances, Carly is a calm, rational young woman who displays intelligence, as well as common sense. However, when she becomes caught up in the exciting pursuit of a news story, she turns into a crazed zealot, leaving fear and judgment hanging on a nail next to her pride and inhibitions. There is no doubt in my mind that her name will one day be added to the list of the greatest journalists of all time. Please just don't ever assign me as her cameraman!"

Carly returned to reality when the deputy whistled loudly and motioned for the inmates to gather round in front of the van. After the ten men had formed a semicircle facing the deputy, he announced that the mayor's daughter would be asking a few questions and that they were to be cooperative and polite, as well as to give honest answers. The floor was then turned over to Carly, who appeared to be truly uncomfortable for the first time that evening. She whispered for Wyatt to roll tape. “How do y'all feel about being brought here to work without getting paid for it?"

Laughter followed. One of the inmates raised his hand before answering. “We are getting paid for it. Being able to get out of that cell and move around in the fresh air, that's plenty enough pay for me."

As the other men nodded in agreement, Carly looked around at their tired, dirty faces and frowned. “But doesn't it bother you to work so hard, knowing you're being used to provide someone with a free garage?"

“Naw, man. We don't care why we're here. Being outside, working and building something with our hands ... It's like being free again. It's almost like having our regular lives back."

The rest of the prisoners concurred, and Carly strained to hear any negative or argumentative comments in the sea of voices. None could be found.

The Zacchaeus of the group stood on his tiptoes and raised his hand. “Can we get back to work now, Miss? We have an awfully big garage to build, and the sooner we finish it the better."

“And why is that?” she asked with suspicion, making sure Wyatt continued to film the interview.

“Oh, no reason,” the inmate answered quickly. “It's just an expression, that's all."

Carly nodded slowly, wondering if there was more to the prisoner's statement than the simple use of a cliché. She also wondered if his sheepish expression and unwillingness to expound further was due to the armed guard stationed mere yards away. Quickly dismissing her speculation as grasping at straws, she decided to throw out a general question. “Y'all do realize the sheriff's breaking the law by having you work here like this, right?"

Her statement brought on more laughter. “Do we look like we're all that concerned about the law?” one inmate asked with a chuckle, giving his cellmate a high five.

As the laughter and jokes continued, Carly frowned and searched her brain for another question that might trigger the desired answer. Suddenly, an idea came to her, and she tapped Wyatt on the shoulder, whispering for him to stop filming. “Okay,” she said loudly, “we've turned the camera off for a minute. Now, tell us how you really feel."

More laughter ensued. “The answer ain't going to change,” one detainee said impatiently. “In spite of how the general public views us, we're not all lazy bums who enjoy sitting around a cell all day. It feels good to get out of there and do some work. It makes us feel useful. It makes us feel like human beings instead of animals. It makes us tired so we can sleep at night instead of counting the lonely minutes ‘til we're back home with our families again. Tell your daddy that if he wants to do something good for this town, he'll get rid of the stupid law that says we're not allowed to do work for the sheriff or anybody else. Ain't no harm being done here. Everybody wins in the end."

As the men applauded, giving their spokesman playful pats on the back and congratulating him on the articulate speech, Carly and Wyatt looked at one another disappointedly. Their hot story had been downgraded to lukewarm without the element of human suffering and injustice to fan the literary flames. Carly longed to ask the inmates additional questions about life behind bars at the Plites county jail, but knew they would not be forthcoming with one of Sheriff Nagle's right-hand men and an armed guard watching.

When she informed the deputy that there were no further questions, he sent the men back to work for the few minutes of daylight remaining that cloudy evening. Carly took the opportunity to snap more pictures of the inmates and take a close-up shot of the armed guard, who scowled nicely right into the lens.

Wyatt appeared amazed, as well as dismayed, at his companion's fearlessness, but obediently followed when she walked toward the homestead to resume her interview. The deputy immediately stopped him, escorted him back to his spot by the guard, and instructed him not to move until given permission to do so. Wyatt looked to Carly for assistance, but she continued to march determinedly toward the sheriff's house, unaware that she was all alone in her venture. Sheriff Nagle met her at the door, and by the time she realized that neither Wyatt nor the deputy had accompanied her, she was already standing inside the house, the sheriff quickly closing the door and locking it behind him.

Seven

The sheriff's home was very dimly lit and uncomfortably warm, the air thick with humidity and tarrying cigar scent. Carly stood motionless while Sheriff Nagle lifted the cafe curtain on the door and peeked out as if to make sure no witnesses were within earshot. Her eyes quickly swept the room for an escape route, but before she could determine which doorway led where, Sheriff Nagle had turned around and was walking toward her, his face absent of emotion or intent. Carly held her breath as he drew closer, telling herself that the sheriff would certainly never harm the mayor's daughter, but fearing the worst because of his reputation, as well as his uncloaked appreciation for her anatomy.

Brushing past her, he muttered, “Come on in the den, and we'll have ourselves a little talk."

She released the air in her lungs and spun around quickly. “I'd like for my cameraman to be present for the interview,” she stated, glancing up and grimacing at the cold, dead stare of the four-pointer buck hanging on the wall above her.

Sheriff Nagle's face finally displayed an emotion and it was extreme impatience. “You don't need no blasted cameraman! You write for a school newspaper."

“Yeah, but I like to have interviews on tape so I don't forget anything when I write the story."

“Well, this isn't going to be so much an interview as it is an intimate conversation between friends. Come in here and have a seat,” he commanded with finality, watching her intently from the doorway.

Her first impulse was to flee as quickly as possible, but she could not bring herself to leave an unfinished news story. The fact that there were armed deputies right outside the door also aided in her decision to stay. As she stood in the foyer, mentally encouraging herself to be brave and trying not to imagine the worst, a voice coming from an adjacent doorway startled her.

“Well, hello,” the sheriff's wife said with surprise. “Saul didn't tell me we had company. You're the mayor's daughter, aren't you?"

“Yes, ma'am!” Carly said with relief, shaking Mrs. Nagle's hand graciously. “I'm here to interview the sheriff for my school newspaper."

“Well, isn't that nice? Saul doesn't get too much good press coverage around here. Maybe you can help improve his image a little ... Well, bless your little heart; you're clothes are all wet! Let me get you something dry to wear."

“She ain't going to be staying that long,” Sheriff Nagle announced before Carly could reply. “Why don't you go put on a pot of coffee and finish up my supper? I'm hungry."

Mavis Nagle smiled apologetically before retreating back into the kitchen. Carly watched the petite, grandmotherly woman hurry away, wondering why such a kind person would choose to spend an hour, much less a lifetime, with someone like Sheriff Nagle.

As Carly walked into the den, she refused to look into the sheriff's carnal gaze, knowing she would only feel more intimidated, angry, and repulsed. Before taking a seat in the chair furthest from his recliner, she pulled a small pad and pen from the back pocket of her jeans to take notes during the interview. Sheriff Nagle had questions of his own. “So just how did you and Pudgy get on my property, anyway?"

“That's not really the issue here,” she stated casually, a line she had learned from watching her father in numerous campaign debates. “Let's talk about why you're not obligated to obey the law like everyone else in Plitesville."

Sheriff Nagle chewed thoughtfully on the tip of an unlit cigar a moment before releasing a sigh and looking at the ceiling. “You know what would be a real shame, Carly? It would be a terrible shame for Boyd Dennison to find out that his girlfriend showed up at my house with another guy, their clothes and hair all wet and in disarray, looking like they'd been rolling around in the bushes together ... Yep, that would sure be a shame.

“And I'm pretty sure the whole town would be shocked to hear that the mayor's daughter had been partaking in such unladylike behavior since moving out of her parent's house. Not to mention that she added to the thrill by trespassing on my property to do it."

Carly's mouth had fallen open yet she was too stunned to speak. She was unaccustomed to being addressed with such disrespect from an authority figure or being blatantly blackmailed by anyone. When her vocal chords would once again perform, she found herself chattering nervously. “That's a lie! Nobody would believe such a ridiculous rumor. You can't threaten me with something that never even happened. You can't—"

“I'm just reporting what appears to be the truth, kind of like you did with that Billy Northcutt fiasco. If you and your lover get arrested for trespassing and lewd behavior, I'm sure the whole town will be convinced that it really happened. And that includes your boyfriend and your daddy.

“Of course, since you just love news so much, I reckon you'd enjoy being the top story of the week, now wouldn't you? It's entirely up to you, though. All you've got to do is answer my question and your ice queen reputation will stay intact. Now, tell me how you and Tub-o got on my property, and I mean right now."

Carly could feel the blood rise to her face. She knew without a doubt that Sheriff Nagle wasn't bluffing and that his word would be accepted over hers no matter whose daughter she was. While she felt fairly certain that Boyd would never believe such an outrageous lie, she couldn't shake the fear of tarnishing her father's image by being featured on the front page of “The Plitesville Sentry". She despised caving in to the sheriff's coercion almost as much as she loathed his self-pleased smile. But she had no other choice.

“We jumped the fence and came in through the pasture,” she stated with defeat.

Sheriff Nagle frowned. “Wasn't Ernie back there?"

She nodded and tried to resume the interview. “How can you justify breaking the law when you're the sheriff of this county?"

“Man! I guess I need to have a talk with ol’ Ernie. He's falling down on the job. If he can't do no better than that, I reckon I'll be filling my freezer with steaks this summer."

“But we snuck up on him! He tried his best to spear us, but we had a pretty big head start."

Sheriff Nagle shook his head disappointedly. “I'll either have to get me a new bull or electrify my fence. That's just all there is to it."

Carly knew the threat of her arrest dangled at the end of a stick held firmly in Sheriff Nagle's malicious grasp. She also realized that the same stick deemed her interview null and void. She had made an unrecoverable mistake by trespassing on the sheriff's property, but her journalistic instincts told her to pursue the story just the same.

“I don't believe you answered my question, Sheriff. Why do you feel free to disobey the law when you've been elected by the good folks of Plitesville to enforce it?"

Sheriff Nagle surprised her when he smiled. “Carly, there are a lot of foolish laws written on the books. Some of them are old, outdated laws and some are newer, senseless ones, thrown together by lawyers to appease special interest groups and politicians. No reflection on your father, of course. For example, did you know that horse stealing is still considered a hanging offense in the great state of Tennessee?"

She shook her head. Why did the sheriff feel the need to explain his actions when the threat of blackmail still hung over the room like a thick fog?

“Yep, the law books say that a man who steals a horse should hang by the neck until dead. I have a young man who's sitting in jail right now for stealing Hank Alexander's best Palomino. Should I throw a rope over a tree in the Town Square and hang that no-good thief?"

“No, sir,” Carly answered quietly.

“Are you sure? It is the law, you know. Since you're so concerned about following the law to the letter, I'll be glad to let you kick the bucket out from under him and watch him choke to death."

“That won't be necessary,” she stated with a sigh.

“Did you know that Tennessee law also states that if more than eight women live in one dwelling it constitutes a brothel? Should I come on down to the dorm and start arresting you girls for prostitution?"

“No!"

“Well, the law that says I can't have inmates working on my property makes just as much sense as hanging horse thieves and outlawing dormitories. Who decided that prison should be about lying around doing nothing all day and getting three squares and a free place to live? All the folks who haven't gotten themselves arrested have to go to work every day. Why don't the criminals? We're not allowed to let them do much of anything except pick litter up off the streets. That job's far too easy on them if you ask me. Besides, did any of the inmates you interviewed complain about coming here to work?"

“No,” she answered, looking down at her empty notepad.

“So, what's the big deal then? Where's the news story?"

“The news story is that you're practicing slavery by forcing men to work without paying them for it! Do you think the law against slavery is foolish and ridiculous, Sheriff?"

“Do you think the law against trespassing is foolish and ridiculous, Carly? I'm no slaveholder, and you know it! So I'm bending the rules a little. It's no different than you bending the rules by trespassing on my property to try and catch me doing something wrong. I'll be more than glad to overlook your little impropriety, if you'll overlook mine."

Carly knew she was about to take another giant risk but had to be true to her journalistic convictions. “I have to report what I found here today. It's my duty. Besides, I thought you liked it when reporters print negative stories about you. Why is this one different?"

“I never said I didn't want you to print this story. You go right ahead. I'm just telling you that if you're thinking about trying to put a stop to my prisoner work program, you're going to turn the whole town against you. Not to mention the ten men out there in my yard who look forward to getting some fresh air and exercise every day. Do you really want to get on the bad side of convicted criminals?"

Carly shook her head and looked confused. “No. But why would the whole town turn against me?"

“Because most law abiding citizens on the street don't want their hard-earned tax dollars used to support lazy inmates who don't hit a lick all day. They'll be glad to hear that some of the lawbreakers are earning their keep. I don't believe you'll find too many sympathizers to join you in your crusade to provide crooks with a free ride, do you?"

“I'm not a crusader, Sheriff. I'm a reporter. And I am going to print this story. Then the people can decide for themselves."

“I don't have a problem with that as long as you tell the whole story, even the part about how the inmates like coming out here to work. You will leave out the part about our little agreement ... Won't you, Carly?"

She didn't reply. Threats of blackmail and false charges would make an extremely compelling story. However she feared the repercussions of reporting the whole truth, but more so the effect the repercussions would have on her father. “I'll have to think about it,” she finally stated daringly.

Sheriff Nagle bit off the tip of his cigar and spit it into an ashtray. “Well, while you're thinking about it, don't forget who has the authority to throw pretty, young college girls in jail..."

The tone in the sheriff's voice and the expression on his face conveyed such vivid images of threats and consequences that she nodded in agreement with his terms against her will. “Yes, sir, I won't tell a soul. Well, I'd better be going now.” Standing to her feet, she walked toward the door without receiving permission to leave.

“Yeah, I'd better let you go. Your big, ol’ stud-muffin's waiting for you,” the sheriff said with a chuckle, following her into the foyer.

“Tell your wife I said goodbye,” she said, running to twist the deadbolt lock and quickly flinging the door open.

As she stepped onto the front porch, she paused for a moment to take in a cleansing breath of air, not realizing that Sheriff Nagle had followed. When he reached out and placed his hand on her shoulder, her entire body became rigid.

“You can visit me whenever you want, Sweetheart,” he invited softly, his lips mere inches from her ear. “But next time, leave the notebook at home and come to the front door like a civilized young lady, okay?"

Wiggling out from under his touch, she rushed down the stairs. “Thanks for your time, Sheriff,” she said over her shoulder, making her way back to her terrified sidekick.

Wyatt's face displayed raw relief the moment he spotted her walk through the door. Even though her face looked pale and held an anxious expression, she otherwise appeared to be unharmed.

She longed to bolt from the appalling presence of the sheriff, but since he continued to trail her, she walked calmly toward Wyatt, refusing to let her fear or disgust show. Wyatt quietly asked about her welfare, but her only reply was, “Let's get out of here."

Wyatt refused to budge, waiting for the sheriff to voice whatever thoughts caused the deep crease in his brow. He didn't have to wait for long. “I know your partner in crime doesn't want you to tell me your name, but I'm sure you really do want to cooperative with me. Don't you, boy?"

Before Wyatt could reply, his armed watchman answered for him. “I know his name, Sir. It's Wyatt Gurnell. He told me everything. I've got his name, address, phone number, date of birth and the year he was potty trained, if you want it."

While the guard and sheriff enjoyed a good chuckle, Wyatt gave Carly an apologetic shrug. Dismissing his guilt with a wave of the hand, she smiled encouragingly then motioned for him to follow as she headed down the long driveway. The sheriff's gruff voice stopped Wyatt in his tracks. “Hold up there, you two. There's no need in y'all walking. It's about to get dark. Deputy Tucker will be glad to drive you wherever you need to go. I'm trusting this'll never happen again, right, Wyatt?"

“Y-Y-Yes, sir,” Wyatt said, crossing his legs.

Casey looked at Wyatt sympathetically. How many times had she heard him berate himself for inheriting his mother's nervous kidneys?

“Good,” the sheriff said with a nod. “Now, I want you to know that you'd be cuffed and on your way to jail right now, if it weren't for Carly, here. Since she's the mayor's daughter and all, I thought I'd cut her some slack this time. But if I ever catch either one of you trespassing on my property again, it won't matter if your daddy's the King of England. You'll both be behind bars so quick, you won't know what hit you. Have I made myself clear on this?"

Wyatt nodded rapidly, his eyes opened wide with fear, but Carly didn't reply. She was too busy taking pictures of the prisoners being loaded into the van to return to their cells for the night. “Can I ask you one more question, Sheriff?” she said, never diverting her eyes from the white vehicle pulling away.

“Well, I'm sure you will whether I want you to or not!"

She turned her thoughtful gaze upon him. “Just how do you decide which prisoners will come here and work?"

He sighed impatiently. “The same way any employer decides who'll work for them. You look for the most qualified person for the job."

Carly bit her lip thoughtfully while jotting his answer down on her notepad. “Okay. Our vehicle's parked just down the road. If Deputy Tucker can drop us off there, we'd appreciate it,” she said, opening the back door of the patrol car.

Sheriff Nagle nodded at the deputy and watched Wyatt slide into the vehicle, followed by Carly. Shaking his head, he turned to walk back toward his house. Just before he reached the steps of his front porch, Carly reappeared in front of him again. “I thought of one more question,” she said, catching her breath from the jog after insisting Deputy Tucker stop the vehicle and let her out.

“Now what?” Sheriff Nagle asked irritably. “It's still not too late for me to have you arrested for trespassing and other things, you know."

“I promise this'll only take a second. During our conversation earlier, you mentioned the fact that I'd moved into the dorm. How'd you know about that? I don't recall telling you that I'd left my parent's house."

“Your daddy let me in on that little secret when he came to apologize for that article you wrote."

“Oh.” Her imagination had sparked images of the sheriff having her followed, or worse, following her himself.

The sheriff looked at her thoughtfully a moment before another smile broke out on his face. “Yeah, your daddy asked me if I'd keep an eye on you since this is the first time you've been on your own. I told him it'd be my pleasure."

Carly's mouth fell open. “My father asked you to spy on me?"

“No, I wouldn't call it spying. He just wanted me to make sure you didn't go getting yourself in trouble with all that freedom at your disposal. That's one of the reasons I didn't want to arrest you tonight. I'd hate to see you have to move back home with the folks."

“So you've been following me?” she asked, swallowing hard.

“No. I don't have time to tail some college kid all over town. I've informed my deputies to keep an eye on you, especially a certain young rookie. He didn't seem to have a problem with that assignment at all."

Carly's alarm subsided while her hurt and anger increased ten-fold. The fact that her father had asked an officer of the law to watch her was bad enough, but to ask someone like Sheriff Nagle. What a slap in the face! Not to mention a very frightening prospect. Although she was relieved to hear that the sheriff had delegated the favor to his subordinates, to learn that Deputy Coad had been specifically assigned to the task stirred up feelings she would've never expected.

Her relationship with Robby had always been based on flirtation and rejection, but lately she had found his heightened appearances in her life a welcome diversion. Now, she felt like a complete fool for entertaining brief thoughts of “what ifs” and “maybes” involving the insistent and undeniably attractive deputy. She had interpreted his increased attentiveness as sincere interest in a relationship rather than an opportunity to add yet another name to his black book, which she imagined contained as many volumes as the Encyclopedia Britannica. Finding out that he was merely following orders awakened such strong feelings of disappointment that she was more infuriated with herself than with her father.

Forcing her mind back to the present situation, she quickly realized that Sheriff Nagle was enjoying her silent fume-fest a little too much. It was time to retaliate. “So, our sheriff's department has nothing better to do than track a college student who's never been in trouble a day in her life. Well, at least our tax dollars are being well spent. Good work, Sheriff."

Not waiting for a response, she turned and ran back to the squad car, mentally lambasting herself for speaking so boldly to a man who exhibited no qualms about destroying lives. She and Wyatt remained silent while riding in the back of the police car, and Carly realized they could have easily been taking the same ride in handcuffs.

After Deputy Tucker dropped them off by Jacob's car, Carly and Wyatt raced to retrieve their associates. Jacob and Ashley ran to meet them, greatly relieved to see their friends alive, unharmed, and uncuffed. From the first moment of the reunion, Wyatt began jabbering and didn't stop until they reached the school. He recounted each detail of the adventure, overly emphasizing how he was not as physically unfit as everyone believed since he was able to outrun a Brahma bull. After enduring ten miles of incessant bragging, Jacob exploded. “Wyatt, for your information, you'd be nothing but a bad memory right now if it weren't for Car—"

“Okay, that's enough fooling around,” Carly interrupted, shaking her head at Jacob. “Let's get busy on this special edition. We've got to be the first to report this story."

Eight

It was close to one o'clock in the morning when the novice journalists finalized the special early edition of The Speerings. Jacob used the school's dark room to develop the pictures Carly had taken, and while they lost quite a bit of quality when scanned into the computer for printing, everyone agreed that the lead journalist was also not a bad photographer. Displayed on the front page of the periodical would be a photograph of Ernie, the word “Speerings” printed strategically between his wide horns. It was unanimously decided that Ernie would become the official mascot for the school newspaper and appear on all future editions. When Carly finally placed her stamp of approval on the finished product, the room exploded with applause, and the copiers began churning out copy after copy of the maiden report of Sheriff Nagle's latest escapade.

After the stacks of newspapers were placed in the bins right inside each of the college's entrances, someone suggested that the staff retreat to Johnnie's Hangout for a rousing celebration. Applause, whistles, and shouts of approval ensued before everyone piled into vehicles to convoy to the popular nightspot. As Wyatt threw his car in reverse, he noticed Carly discreetly slipping away alone. Telling Jacob he would return shortly, he shifted back into park, opening the car door and trotting after the lone figure. “Aren't you going with us, Carly?” he asked, huffing and puffing from the short sprint.

“No, I'd better get some sleep. I've got an early class in the morning."

“Aw, come on! We've all got early classes. You have to come with us. What would this celebration be without the brave soul who took on Sheriff Nagle and lived to tell about it? You're going to be as legendary as he is if you keep this up."

A brief smile crossed Carly's face. “Sorry ... I can't."

Wyatt nodded understandingly for a moment then changed gears and shook his head. “Well, I didn't want to do this, but you've left me no other choice.” Abruptly grabbing her around the waist, he threw her over his shoulder like a sack of Ernie's manure. “You're going, and that's final!"

As Carly protested loudly, wiggling and kicking to free herself, Jacob appeared on the scene to assist Wyatt in his kidnapping of the mayor's daughter. Together, they managed to place her in the back seat of Wyatt's car, where Jacob became a human straight jacket to prevent her escape. All the way to the nightclub, she demanded to be taken back to her dorm room, spewing threats that ranged from filing a police report to firing both kidnappers from the newspaper staff. Wyatt and Jacob ignored their hostage's venomous chatter even when she tried a different approach and offered them money to return her to campus.

When they reached Johnnie's Hangout, they carried her inside like two football coaches helping an injured player off the field. The other staff members applauded their courageous efforts and helped place Carly in a chair at the far end of the long table where there would be no escape without four students willingly allowing her to pass. Carly finally surrendered, but attempted to hide her identity by slouching in the chair with her elbow on the table, her hand shadowing the side of her face.

While the other students enjoyed telling stories, laughing, and occasionally hitting the dance floor during a favorite song, Carly sat uncomfortably in her imprisonment, reliving her conversation with Sheriff Nagle and wondering if one of his watchful officers had followed her to the club. Wyatt tried to include her in the group discussions, but she had retreated into a deeply reclusive state, refusing to speak or move so as not to call attention to herself. When the moment arrived that Wyatt and Carly were alone at the table, he leaned toward her and pointed a finger.

“Carly, you really need to get over it! So your father's the mayor. So what? Didn't you get the memo? Politician's kids are supposed to be brats and get into trouble. You have the perfect excuse to live like there's no tomorrow, and you're totally blowing it! Even if you don't go all out, you're still entitled to have a life. Come on and sit up and join in the fun. I don't think anybody in this town will have a problem with that. In fact, I think everyone will breathe a collective sigh of relief when they find out that you're the real Carly Wright and not some imposter android your daddy sent to live among us."

Carly looked discreetly around the room before slowly sliding up in her chair. “Hey, Wyatt, can I ask you something?” she said quietly, leaning toward him.

“Sure. Ask me anything. Anything at all. Except how much I weigh,” he added, mocking her secretive demeanor.

She remained dead serious. “Well, I was just wondering if everybody thought that I was ... Well, if you ever heard anybody refer to me as ... As an ice queen."

Wyatt leaned back in his chair, a surprised expression lengthening his face. After hesitating briefly, he shrugged then nodded. “Well, yeah, Carly. That's what all the guys call you now. Isn't that what you wanted?"

“No,” she whispered, looking down at her hands. “I never wanted any of this."

“Well, it's not too late to change. Just chill out, and forget whose daughter you are, and try to have a little fun. Who in the world called you an ice queen to your face, anyway?"

“Sheriff Nagle,” she answered quietly before taking a deep breath of liberation.

Before Wyatt could verbally express the astonishment on his face, Carly overheard Nicole mention a familiar name that made her follow her comrade's gaze to the dance floor. She immediately slid back down in her seat the moment she spotted Robby Coad, who was dancing with not one, but two, giggling females. Infuriation once again surfaced at the thought of the young rookie obeying the sheriff's bidding to follow her, all the while feigning a genuine interest. Her anger doubled at her own jealousy over Robby dancing with the two girls.

Although his reputation as a player was common knowledge, she had never witnessed him in action. Her attempt at ignoring his presence was not unlike being at the scene of a fatal car accident. She knew it was in her best interest to look away, but she was unable to divert her envious eyes for even a second.

Wyatt tried to coerce her into telling him what had prompted the sheriff to call her an ice queen, but his words were overshadowed by Nicole's giddy observations of Deputy Coad's good looks. Carly could not remain silent. “Yeah, and he's well aware of how good-looking he is, too."

“Sure, he is,” Nicole stated matter-of-factly. “He'd have to be. I'm sure he owns a mirror."

“Yeah, his house is probably filled with them,” Carly stated acidly.

Wyatt's face broke into a knowing grin at the sight of her jealous stare. As a slow song began to play, and Rob took one of his dance partners into his arms, Carly finally averted her eyes, her chin resting in her hand as she stared miserably at the table. Wyatt's amusement quickly turned to an expression of sympathy. “Why don't you go and cut in on his dance?” he encouraged in a whisper.

“I don't want to dance with him! He's nothing but a smooth-talking, lying jerk. And not only does he worship himself, he also bows down at the feet of Sheriff Nagle!"

“Uh-huh,” Wyatt said, smiling at the lady who protested too much. “I'm sure he just doesn't know you're here or he'd be dancing with you instead."

“Oh, he knows I'm here! Trust me on that! And I wouldn't dance with him if he was Fred Astaire reincarnated!"

Rising from his chair, Wyatt held out his hand. “Well, will you dance with me, then? I'm sure it'll make him insanely jealous."

Carly looked up and smiled. “Thanks for all you're trying to do, Wyatt. You're a great friend; you really are. But all I want to do is get out of here, go back to the dorm, and get some sleep."

Wyatt frowned with defeat but only for a moment. Tapping his glass with a spoon, he cleared his throat loudly then spoke louder still. “Your attention, please, all Speerings staff members. At this time, I would like to toast our illustrious and most righteous leader, who boldly takes us where we've never gone before. Even though, most times, we wished we hadn't been dragged there at all. She's always on the cutting edge and has more guts than anyone I've ever met.

“May she always stay true to her convictions—with the exception of the one that makes her hide out in her dorm room all alone. I have no doubt that she will one day be a great journalist, and I will have the distinct pleasure of saying that I was her associate and friend. To you, Carly Wright. May you learn to live and to love with the same passion that you report the news."

Carly slid down even further in her chair, giving Wyatt a homicidal glare as the group shouted, “To Carly,” raising their glasses high in the air. At the mention of Carly's name, Office Coad's head immediately whipped toward the table of students. Dropping his hands from his partner's waist, he left the dance floor without explanation or apology and headed straight toward the slouching toastee. Both Carly and the girl who'd been deserted mid-dance held the same expression of anger and hurt, each staring a hole through him from opposite sides.

When he reached the table, Nicole's face lit up like the schoolgirl she was. “Hey, Rob,” she said sweetly, flipping her long blonde hair over her shoulders.

“How's it going?” Rob asked absentmindedly, never taking his eyes from Carly's face. “Hey there, Lois Lane. I can't believe you're actually here. I must be dreaming or something."

Carly scooted up straight in her chair, all eyes at the table watching her expectantly. “Hello, Deputy Coad,” she said coldly, looking past him. “I believe your girlfriend's a little peeved at you for leaving her alone on the dance floor like that."

“Oh, she's not my girlfriend. I don't even know her name."

“Well, isn't that romantic?” Carly observed, crossing her arms in front of her while noting Nicole's jealous scowl.

“So, you finally decided to visit my favorite hangout, huh?” Rob asked with a knowing smile. “If I'd known you were coming tonight, I would've gotten here a lot sooner. I'm free to dance whenever you're ready."

As low-pitched teasing sounds ensued, Carly wanted to crawl underneath the table. Instead, she decided to face the situation as she did with breaking news stories: head-on and without second thoughts. Standing, she addressed the wardens who were blocking her escape. “Excuse me, but I need to have a private discussion with this officer of the law. He seems to have forgotten the rule against hitting on another guy's girlfriend."

At Wyatt's command, they gave Carly parole. With her head held low, she marched across the nightclub and through the door with Rob on her heels. As soon as the cool night air hit his face, he recommenced his pursuit. “So, where is Boyd Devoid tonight, anyway? You claim to have a boyfriend, but it seems to me he's never around. If you were my girlfriend, I'd—"

“Oh, give it a rest, Robby!” she spat, spinning to face him. “You're not fooling me for a second. I know the real reason we've been running into each other so much lately."

“Sure you do. It's not like I've tried to hide how I feel about you."

“Will you stop it already? I'm not as stupid as all those airheads who fall for every line you toss at them. I know all about the little assignment Sheriff Nagle gave you."

“Huh? What assignment?"

“He told me all about it. So you can quit pretending you're interested in me. I know you're only following me ‘cause it's your master's orders."

“I have no idea what you're talking about. Have you been drinking? I'd sure hate to have to report Johnnie for serving alcohol to a minor."

“No, I haven't been drinking! Sheriff Nagle told me that he asked you and the other deputies to keep an eye on me."

Rob laughed out loud. “No, he didn't! Why would he do something like that? Besides, it's not like you ever go anywhere."

“Well, don't tell anybody, but my father asked him to keep an eye on me after I moved into the dorm."

“You moved out of your folks’ house? I didn't know that! Sheriff Nagle never told me, and he sure didn't ask me to follow you. I seriously doubt he told any of the other guys to, either. We've got enough to do without spying on the mayor's daughter for him."

Carly felt doubtful, as well as wounded. “I know things have always been weird between you and me, but I really thought we were friends. I can't believe you'd agree to watch me like that and not even tell me what's going on. And I can't believe you'd stand here and openly lie about it."

“I'm not lying!"

“Oh, really? Then how do you explain your showing up tonight right after I got here?"

“I come here all the time! You know that! I thought you showed up ‘cause you knew I'd be here. I was hoping that was the reason, anyway."

“Oh, get over yourself, Deputy! Believe it or not, every woman's action does not revolve around you. I still can't believe you'd keep this from me."

“I'm not keeping anything from you, Carly! Sheriff Nagle's just yanking your chain ‘cause of all the stuff you've reported about him lately. I told you it wasn't a good idea to cross him, but, as usual, you wouldn't listen. I'm sure he was just trying to get under your skin, and it looks like he did a good job of it. Now, for the last time, Sheriff Nagle did not tell me to keep an eye on you. If he had, there's no way I could've done it with a clear conscience. I promise you I'm telling the truth. The one and only reason I watch you like I do is to see if you're looking back. I keep on hoping you will ... one day."

Carly swallowed hard as she looked up into eyes that portrayed pure sincerity. Looking away, she nodded and self-consciously rubbed the outside of her arm with the opposite hand. “Okay, Robby. I believe you. I'm sorry I accused you of lying, but it did seem like you'd been around a lot more than usual lately. I'd better get back inside with my friends."

“Wait,” he said, reaching out and taking her arm as she turned away. “You haven't given me a chance to tell you how beautiful you look tonight."

She glanced down at her clothes, which were wrinkled and dirty from her adventurous evening. Running her hand through her stringy, air-dried hair, she pulled her arm out of his gentle grip and rolled her eyes. “Save your lines for the ditzy airheads."

“It's not a line, Carly. I swear you're the most beautiful woman I've ever laid eyes on. Look, Boyd's not here. Won't you dance with me just one time?"

She let out a snort. “You don't need me to dance with you. There's a line of girls a mile long in there just waiting for you to ask them. I'd really hate for everyone to slip in the puddles of mascara that'd flow if you disappointed your little groupies."

As she walked away, Rob grimaced and shook his head with frustration, muttering to himself. “Who ever knew being so popular with the ladies could be such a curse? But I will not surrender,” he avowed, jogging after the elusive object of his affection. “Hey, Carly, wait up ... Look, let's stop playing this game for a minute, okay? Why don't you tell me what I've got to do to get you, ‘cause I'm just about out of ideas here."

“Hey, did you ever stop to think that maybe I don't want to be ‘got'? I have no interest whatsoever in being added to your long list of conquests."

“No, it's not like that. What have I got to do to convince you that my intentions are honorable? I want you to be my girlfriend, my full-time girlfriend. The only reason I dance with all those other girls is to keep myself from dying of loneliness ‘til you come around. All you've got to do is say the word and I'll be yours and yours alone. Please just give me the chance to prove you wrong on this one, okay?"

Carly stared at the ground with a proud forlornness, refusing to look into the earnest eyes of the man standing vulnerably in front of her. “Sorry, Robby. You should know by now that Carly Wright doesn't like to be proven wrong. Everybody knows that."

Hesitating as second thoughts weighed upon her, she forced herself to turn and walk back into the club, unknowingly carrying another small piece of Rob's heart with her.

Nine

Almost every student attending Doral College huddled around the small television set in the student lounge, eager to see the news report uncovered by two of their own. Channel Eight action news was first on the scene and interrupted a favorite morning soap opera to show live coverage of inmates performing slave labor for the Sheriff of Plites County. A female reporter walked toward the locked gate leading to the sheriff's property while dramatically stating the serious implications of his illegal actions. The camera first panned dense woods before showing a close-up shot of the gate's padlock as the reporter speculated about what would be seen by viewers were she able to enter through the gates.

The Speerings' staff members immediately smiled at one another and shared high fives. They were in possession of footage that the professionals were unable to obtain! As they continued to brag and congratulate one another on their miraculous accomplishment, the other students loudly shushed them. The cameraman had abruptly spun away from the trees and was now filming the reporter marching toward the red faced Sheriff Nagle, who had pulled up in his patrol car!

Everyone in the room fell silent and held their breath as the reporter fired inaudible questions at the sheriff while waiting for the cameraman to catch up with her unencumbered pace. As soon as the camera was within arm's length of Sheriff Nagle, wavy static lines appeared across the screen, followed by a view of the bright, blue sky.

The bubbly, blonde reporter could be heard screeching in the background. “Oh, my gosh! Joe, are you all right? Ladies and gentlemen at home, if you can still hear me, you should know that Sheriff Nagle has struck our cameraman and knocked him to the ground! The sheriff has now entered through the gate and is shouting for us to leave the premises immediately. We are currently being threatened with charges of trespassing ... We will be back with more details when they can be safely obtained. This has been a live, very eventful, Channel Eight Action news report. Now back to you in the studio."

The student lounge remained completely silent as the shocked news anchor stammered that they would again break in if any new developments arose in the very controversial story. Otherwise, there would be a full report at the top of the hour.

When the soap opera resumed, all amazed eyes turned toward Carly and Wyatt, the courageous souls who had not only trespassed on Sheriff Nagle's property, but also managed to take pictures, film the live action, and interview the sheriff himself inside his personal residence. Bright smiles and laughter quickly ensued, followed by discussions of possible charges of assault or even a lawsuit filed against the sheriff by the Channel Eight cameraman. All agreed that such a scenario would make a fascinating follow-up story for The Speerings, especially with the staff's unusual vantage point on the subject.

Professor McCoy stood in the doorway, watching the celebration and observing the victorious smile radiating from Carly's face. Even though he had thoroughly chastised her and the rest of the staff for trespassing on personal property, he inwardly felt proud of their accomplishments. Unfortunately, his pride was overshadowed by a deep concern for their welfare. Sheriff Nagle was an extremely powerful figure whose methods and ideology were not only rumored to be unconventional, but ethically questionable at best. The professor felt certain that the only reason the students had escaped the sheriff's vengeance thus far was because the lead journalist's father just happened to be mayor of the city.

While it was comforting to know there was a built-in safety net, he couldn't feel entirely comfortable with his students placing themselves in a potentially harmful situation. He entertained thoughts of vetoing all future Sheriff Nagle stories, however after taking one look at “Carly, the Hermit” smiling and laughing like a carefree college student should, he quickly decided to maintain a wait and see attitude. He would have to hold onto the hope that the sheriff's political interests were strong enough to ward off any and all trouble.

His concern sprouted anew when Carly voiced a sudden revelation. “Hey, we could call the news station and tell them we have the footage they want! We can say that we'll be glad to let them use it as long as they give us full credit. Wouldn't that be cool?"

All expectant eyes turned toward the teacher when he stepped in and loudly cleared his throat. “I don't think that's a good idea, Carly. Let's just enjoy knowing that we've beaten the professionals to a news story and leave it at that."

“Why?” Carly asked indignantly. “We have what every news station in Tennessee wants. Just think how much publicity it would get us. It could really help jumpstart all of our careers. Plus, it would put Doral College on the map. Maybe after this hits the airwaves, it'll help us rise above the stigma that goes along with being a small college. You're not against helping the school, are you, Professor?"

He bit his lip thoughtfully. “Carly, I know this appears to be a great career opportunity for you, but you need to stop and think this through a little better. The sheriff obviously feels very strongly about keeping the media from reporting this story, seeing as how he just punched out a cameraman over it. How do you think he'll react when he finds out you provided the news stations with the footage? Especially after he was kind enough not to arrest you and Wyatt for trespassing."

“I don't think he'll have a problem with it at all,” Carly stated without hesitation, causing the professor to raise his eyebrows and her fellow students to laugh out loud.

Professor McCoy quickly approached the brooding student. “Let's step out into the hallway and discuss this,” he instructed quietly.

Carly appeared happy to escape the room, immediately defending her statement before the door had closed. “I promise I have a perfectly reasonable explanation for what I said. I just can't tell you what it is. All I'll say is that I've gotten to know the sheriff on a more personal level since interviewing him, and I can assure you there'll be no negative repercussions if I share that tape with the news stations."

Professor McCoy frowned. “You haven't gone and done something crazy, have you, Carly? Like use your father's position to blackmail the sheriff?"

She let out a surprising burst of laughter. “No. I'm sure it hasn't hurt that I'm the mayor's daughter, but I've tried not to abuse it. And I would never blackmail anyone for any reason."

“Well, that's a relief! Look, Carly, I really have no right to tell you or Wyatt what to do with your videotape, however I do strongly advise against this course of action. Please understand that it's only because I'm concerned about you. I don't think I need to explain why.

“Now if you decide not to take my advice, please understand that you're not allowed to mention this school, its newspaper, or anyone who works here in affiliation with your submission. You're completely on your own this time. It's entirely up to Wyatt as to whether he wants his name associated with it or not.

“It's one thing to print a story in a college newspaper. If you go public, the sheriff may feel pressured to arrest you for trespassing just to make an example of you. Kind of like he did with that cameraman. And I'm sure I don't have to tell you how this could affect your father's career."

Carly visibly flinched at the mention of her father. “I appreciate your input, Professor, but I can't just let an opportunity this big slip out of my hands. If I get arrested, then so be it. I'll have a great story to tell my grandchildren one day. And as far as my father's career goes ... well, I've never heard of any reputable journalists setting aside a news story in order to save a politician's reputation. My job is to report the facts, and that's what I'm going to do."

As Professor McCoy watched her walk away, he could have sworn he felt five more hairs turn gray on the spot.

Wyatt immediately turned down the offer to have his name affiliated with the video. While he would've loved the free exposure, his fear of the sheriff beclouded all dreams of an overnight success in journalism. He tried to talk Carly out of sharing the videotape for her own safety's sake, but she had already gone to work making three additional copies while contacting the closest major news stations. Once she had firm appointments set to meet with the programming director of each station, Wyatt felt slight twinges of jealously. But he simply couldn't lay to rest his terror at the thought of becoming Sheriff Nagle's next target.

When the video aired on all three of the major network news broadcasts, Wyatt watched with his oblivious parents, wanting to kick himself for acting like such a spineless wimp. While his mother and father berated the mayor's daughter for abusing her position, breaking the law, and meddling in business which was of no concern to her, Wyatt mentally kicked himself even harder. All great journalists were considered pushy and nosey, and his envy doubled at hearing his parents criticize his partner in crime. Even though they would've probably disowned him had they known he was the man behind the camera, he inwardly promised himself to never again become a victim of paralyzing cowardice.

Wyatt was not the only viewer experiencing strong emotions over the news report. Mayor Wright's blood pressure reached record setting heights when he heard his daughter's name broadcasted over primetime airwaves. Carly's mother patted her husband's hand encouragingly and attempted to explain why they should be proud of their daughter's unwavering determination and intestinal fortitude.

Refusing to acknowledge his wife's rationalization, the mayor marched straight into his office and made yet another apologetic phone call to Sheriff Nagle, who reassured him there were no hard feelings. The sheriff went on to compliment Carly on her gumption and spunkiness and even extended an invitation to the mayor and his family for a cookout at his house one warm Saturday afternoon. He chuckled while asking they enter through the front gate rather than the pasture since his watchdog wasn't as gracious a host as one might imagine.

The sheriff took the opportunity to explain that the Channel Eight cameraman had simply slipped on the wet grass, and as usual, the media used the incident to boost their ratings by contriving a more interesting scenario. The sheriff ranted at how absurd it was for the news stations to be concerned over who was building a garage on his property when there were bigger and more important issues to report.

Mayor Wright politely agreed and apologized a second time for his daughter's actions, thanking the sheriff for his leniency and good-natured attitude. When the amiable conversation ended, Mayor Wright stared at the phone, wondering how he could put a stop to Carly's reporting rampage while preventing his wife's wrath from falling upon him. He also wondered if the registered voters of Plites County would be as forgiving and understanding as Sheriff Saul Nagle.

After hanging up the phone, the sheriff smiled to himself at the thought of having another favor to hold over Carly's lovely head. Not only had he spared her the humiliation of being arrested, but he was also responsible for her newfound fame as the girl who outwitted the powerful sheriff. Typically, his intolerance ran deep for anyone who dared challenge him, but when it came to beautiful young women, why not take advantage of every opportunity that might produce reciprocation?

As a teenager, his drunken father had told him that pretty women were invariably the cause of every man's downfall. Scoffing at the ridiculous notion, he turned his mind back to inventive ways in which to collect on his favor.

* * * *

Carly sat on the edge of her boyfriend's bed, her mouth stretched wide in an elated grin as she flipped from station to station. Boyd finally snatched the remote from her so he could focus on the snippet of footage that showed her standing next to an armed guard and surrounded by a group of inmates. The news story ended with another showing of the sheriff's infamous encounter with the Channel Eight news team. Carly awaited a reaction from her perpetually reserved boyfriend, who had little to say unless computers were involved. His amazed expression told her she had finally won his attention.

“Wow! You say Wyatt Gurnell shot that footage? He did an excellent job. If his hands hadn't been shaking so much, it would've almost been professional quality."

“What about me?” she asked with a frown.

“Oh, you looked great ... You know, like you always do."

“Who cares how I looked! How'd I do as a reporter?"

“You did fine ... Just like you always do."

Her bubble burst so violently she thought she actually heard the explosion. “Boyd, I was the brains and the leader behind this whole project. Interviewing the sheriff was totally my idea. In fact, it took me ten minutes to talk Wyatt into going along with it. Can't you give me a little harder pat on the back than ‘you did fine'?"

“I'm sorry,” he said, literally patting her back “You did a great job. How'd you get on the sheriff's property, anyway?"

“What? Weren't you listening to me when I told you about my great adventure? Remember the story about Ernie chasing me and all that?"

He shook his head and frowned. “Ernie...” he repeated uncertainly, walking back to his computer and sitting down in front of the screen. “Is he the guy whose video camera Wyatt was using?"

Carly didn't answer as she watched her boyfriend become immediately engrossed in the World Wide Web. She waited to see if he would repeat his ridiculous question, and when he did not, she rose from his bed and slipped quietly out the door.

Ten

Mayor Wright waited on the cement bench outside Carly's dormitory for twenty minutes before she finally appeared in the distance walking with a small group of girls from their morning classes. He was surprised to see her laughing and chatting with other students and felt both relief and apprehension about his daughter reentering the social realm. When Carly spotted her father rising to his feet to meet her, she immediately stopped dead in her tracks, as if contemplating running in the opposite direction.

The mayor smiled pleasantly and shook hands with each of the girls as they passed by him. When they were safely out of earshot, he walked with purposeful steps straight toward his daughter, whose face displayed indignation and fear mixed with a dash of unanticipated devotion. In light of Carly's recent exploits, Mayor Wright's only focus had been squelching her whistle-blowing reports, and he had forgotten just how much he missed being in his only child's presence. His tender feelings were quickly extinguished when she addressed him with hostile tones.

“I know what you're going to say, Dad. You might as well save your breath. I know you're disappointed in me. I know I'm embarrassing you. And I know you want me to stop reporting the truth about Sheriff Nagle. But guess what? It's not going to happen. I can't worry about your political career anymore. This is my life, and I'm going to start living it the way I want. If you really loved me, that's what you'd want me to do. Goodbye,” she said acridly, sidestepping him to walk into the dorm.

“How dare you say I don't love you?” he hissed, taking her by the arm. “You know that isn't true. I love my daughter with all my heart. But I'm finding it very difficult to like Carly, the wannabe reporter."

“Well, I don't feel very fond of you at the—"

“Do you have any idea what you're doing to me? My phone's been ringing off the hook with calls from concerned citizens. They're worried that your little stunt is going to ruin this town. They're afraid that if Sheriff Nagle's forced out of office, the crime rate will skyrocket, and they're probably right. As the mayor, I have an obligation to listen to the people's concerns and do everything I can to make them feel safe and secure. How am I supposed to do that when my own daughter's striking fear in their hearts and minds?"

Carly crossed her arms. “The only person who should be striking fear in their hearts and minds is your buddy, Sheriff Nagle. How can you sit idly by and defend him, knowing the illegal and immoral things he does? I don't care how safe this town is; the fact of the matter is you're supporting a criminal who abuses his power and position every opportunity he gets. He's a wolf who doesn't even bother putting on sheep's clothing. All the sheep are too stupid to admit what he really is!"

The mayor's face turned a deep shade of angry. “I will not stand here and allow you to call me or anyone else stupid! I don't care how old you are or how righteous you think you are. You will show me and the fine folks of Plitesville the respect we deserve.

“Now, you listen to me good, Carly. You need to stop this witch-hunt, and I mean right now! If you don't, I'll find a way to stop it myself, even if I have to pull you out of this school and lock you in your room until you're thirty!"

“Well, well, well. Looks like I have a brand new slant on this evolving story: How the mayor chooses to look the other way while unethical and illegal activities are running rampant through the sheriff's department. I wonder how the fine folks of Plitesville will feel about that. When they find out their distinguished mayor is more concerned about his political career than protecting them from an evil tyrant!"

“That so-called evil tyrant was voted into office by an over-whelming majority. You're barking up the wrong tree by trying to turn folks against him. The only thing you've accomplished is to make a complete fool of yourself and cause me humiliation in the process. As well as severe headaches!

“Now, I'm not asking you; I'm telling you. Stop this foolishness right now! There'll be plenty of time for you to ruin politicians’ careers when you grow up and become a real reporter."

“So does this mean I can quote you as saying that you fully support Sheriff Nagle in his illegal activities?” Carly asked, pulling her trusty notepad and pen from her back pocket.

“No!” the mayor answered loudly, snatching the notepad from her hands. “You may not quote me as saying anything! I leave the police and sheriff's departments to do their business. I have every confidence that they have the best interests of this county and its residence in mind."

“Nice diplomatic answer, Mayor. Then may I report that you're openly choosing to take sides with a man who would—"

Carly stopped speaking mid-sentence, and the mayor realized that her face had taken on the same look she displayed as a child when she felt afraid to tell him something. In those days, he would've pulled her to him and encouraged the words out of her with fatherly affection. Oh, how the years had changed things. “What idiotic notion's floating in that head of yours now?” he heard himself ask, regretting the question even before teardrops formed in his daughter's eyes.

“Did you ask the sheriff to spy on me?” she asked, attempting to blink away the evidence of her emotion.

“Of course not! Where would you get an idea like that?"

“He told me himself. Then I guess this means you stand firmly behind a bold-faced liar?"

Mayor Wright's patience ran out, and he grabbed his daughter by the arms, shaking her slightly. “Carly, listen to me. This isn't a game. It's not like playing pretend reporter like you did when you were little. This is real life with real people who have real feelings and can be deeply affected by the things you print about them. You need to stop thinking only of yourself and your career and consider how your words and actions might be injurious to other people."

“Good advice. But I guess it doesn't apply to the mayor, does it?” With a bitter sadness, she pulled away from him, yanking her notepad from his hands and stalking into the dormitory.

Mayor Wright watched the door slam behind her, feelings of heartbreak and guilt mingling with his infuriation. Even though the responsibility for his first political crisis fell fully on his daughter's shoulders, he truly missed the close relationship they had once shared. He knew Carly felt as though he had taken sides against her. He also knew he couldn't allow his career to be undermined by the antics of a naive young woman who had no concept of the subtleties involved in the everyday life of a politician.

Turning to walk back to his car, he quickly glanced around to see if anyone had witnessed the heated discussion. After discovering with relief that there had been no spectators, feelings of emptiness and regret filled his fatherly heart. As he drove back to his office to fulfill his mayoral duties, he could only hope that Carly would be plagued with similar feelings and cease her rebellious reporting.

As soon as Carly entered the dormitory, wiping tears from her cheeks, a fellow student handed her yet another phone message from Boyd. It was the fourth she'd received from him since the night she left his room without saying goodbye. As with the others, she quickly wadded the scrap of paper into a tight ball and threw it into the nearest trashcan.

Collapsing onto a sofa, she took a deep breath and stared at the ceiling, silently praying for wisdom with regards to her relationships and especially the ability to forgive her father for his betrayal. Since moving away from home, she had spent many a sleepless night inspecting her soul to ensure she was doing the right thing for the right reasons. Although she had found peace within herself about her journalistic responsibilities, she continued to struggle with feelings of guilt concerning her strained relationship with the man who gave her life. The sun had set on her anger night after night, and she could still not scrounge up even an ounce of forgiveness.

Knowing that a change of heart wouldn't come simply by lounging around on the sofa in contemplation, she decided to busy herself with other matters while her prayers were being answered in their own time. Walking to the phone, she dialed the Channel Eight news station to ask if they or their cameraman had filed charges or a lawsuit against Sheriff Nagle. After being transferred from one uncooperative department to the next, she quickly realized she was wasting her time. Flustered, she hung up but kept her hand on the phone while a heated debate waged within her. The debate ended in record time. She knew that all personal reservations must be set aside when it came to news reporting.

Taking a deep breath, she pulled a worn piece of paper from her backpack and dialed the number scribbled on it, her heart fluttering involuntarily. Closing her eyes tightly and willing an answering machine to pick up, she found herself feeling dismayed yet thrilled when the familiar voice answered with an authoritative, “Hello?"

“Robby?” she asked in the hope that she had dialed a wrong number.

“Carly?” Deputy Coad asked in an amazed and hopeful tone.

“Yep, that's me. How's it going?"

“Great, now that you've called! Hey, I saw that video you sent in to the news stations. Very impressive! If you hadn't been attacking my boss and breaking the law to do it, I would've really been impressed."

“Thanks,” she said with a surprised and self-conscious tone.

“So you've finally come to your senses and decided I'm the man of your dreams, right? Please tell me that's the reason you're calling."

She rolled her eyes even though Robby couldn't see her. “No. This is strictly a professional call. I was wondering if you'd heard anything about the cameraman filing charges against Sheriff Nagle, or a lawsuit."

“Well, I might just know a little something about that. I don't really think it's something we should discuss over the phone, though. Why don't we meet in a secluded spot later, say about seven or so, and talk about it over dinner?"

“Spare me the drama, Robby. You're not fooling me for a second. Just tell me what you know so we can both get on with our lives."

“I'm afraid I'm just too busy to talk at the moment. If you'll stop by Johnnie's tonight around eight, I'll be glad to tell you everything I know then."

“Will you give it a rest already? Do you really think I—?"

“Sorry, Carly, but I've got to go. See ya tonight."

Before she could protest, a dial tone sounded, and she couldn't help but snicker at her wooer's endlessly inventive strategies of pursuit. Rationalizing that it was her duty to follow all leads no matter how dubious, she decided to meet with the enamored officer just in case he was actually in possession of useful information. As her heart continued to thump louder and louder at the prospect of spending time alone in a nightclub with Robby Coad, she impulsively dialed Boyd's phone number.

“Now I get an answering machine,” she stated, waiting for the tone. “Hey, Boyd, it's me. I know I shouldn't have walked out without saying anything the other night, but I was really hurt and upset. I guess we need to talk. Give me a call when you get in. I'll be here ‘til about eight or so. Bye."

Boyd called within the hour, asking Carly to come over as soon as possible. She flatly refused to meet at his house, knowing the impossibility of capturing his attention with a computer present. Boyd agreed to visit her at the dorm and arrived in record time, bearing an apology and a small bouquet of flowers. After accepting his apology, Carly informed him that in the future he was to be more attentive and sensitive to her feelings. Nodding meekly, he asked for another chance. Carly conceded, and as Boyd wrapped his arms around her, she made herself a promise that this chance would be his last.

* * * *

Johnnie's Hangout wasn't as crowded as it had been the last time Carly entered its swinging, saloon style doors. Had she been wearing a bustle and a large feather hat, she would not have felt any more uncomfortable or out of place as she did walking all alone into a bar full of eager, wandering eyes. Every head turned to gawk at the mayor's daughter, who rarely made a public appearance except to become a nuisance at the scene of a breaking news story. Carly anxiously swept the room for a familiar face but saw only anticipatory expressions of strangers waiting to discover who or what was the target of her latest exposé.

She had intentionally arrived fifteen minutes late to ensure that she didn't have to wait alone, but it appeared that Robby had suddenly decided to play it cool after two years of relentless flirting and lame pick-up lines. As she continued to scan the crowd, a drunken customer yelled out from across the room. “Hey, Ms. Wright! I hear you don't like the way the sheriff's doing things around here. Well, I got a solution for ya! Interstate Seventy-five runs north and south. Feel free to hop on it and head on out of here in either direction!"

Silently execrating all men, she turned to make a hasty retreat from the jeering and laughter and came face to chest with the winded deputy, who had never looked more dapper.

“Sorry, I'm so late, Carly,” he huffed, moving closer to her with every step she backed away. “I must've changed clothes ten times. I wasn't sure what to wear to meet the girl of my dreams."

“And which dream would that be?” she asked, crossing her arms. “The one where you treat me real nice ‘til you get what you want? Then you put me on a shelf next to all your other trophies?"

Rob shook his head with a wounded expression. “No. It's the one where I kiss Sleeping Beauty, and she finally wakes up and realizes that I'm the prince she's been looking for all these years. It's the one with the happily-ever-after ending. It's the same dream everybody has. Don't you have it, Carly?"

Clearing her throat, she tried to pull her eyes from his honest gaze but found no way out of the endless sea of blue. When a waitress walked by and gave him a playful whack on the backside with a dishtowel, the trance was quickly broken. “We're here to talk about the sheriff, remember? Now, tell me what you know so I can get back to the dorm and do my homework,” she commanded, giving the waitress a disapproving glare.

Rob smiled at her reaction. “Okay, but first let's go sit in a booth and order something to drink. Then I'll tell you all my dirty little secrets."

“We are still talking about Sheriff Nagle, aren't we?” she asked, hesitantly following as he led her to the darkest, most private booth in the nightclub.

“We can discuss any dirty little secrets you want. You go first.” After waiting for her to take a seat, he slid in close to her on the same bench.

“Other side, Deputy,” she said, pointing to the seat across from her.

“Man, you know how to take the fun out of everything, don't you?” he observed, moving to the opposite side of the table. “You've definitely been hanging out with Boyd Devoid too long. I'm assuming you are still with that computing freakazoid?"

“Yes. As a matter of fact, he brought me a gorgeous bouquet of flowers earlier this evening. Now stop stalling, and tell me what you've got for me."

Carly knew the moment the sentence left her lips that she'd not chosen her words wisely. Rob's mischievous expression told her it would be while before she obtained any pertinent information. “You want to know what I've got for you? Well, first off—"

“Can we please not do this tonight, Robby? Is it impossible for you to have a normal conversation with a woman without hitting on her?"

“I'm not hitting on you. You're the one who wanted to know what I've got for you. Just let me answer the question, okay?"

“If you must,” she said, crossing her arms impatiently in front of her.

“Yep, I must,” he stated with a serious nod. “Well, first of all, I definitely wouldn't hide you in my room all night while I stared at a computer screen. I'd never be able to take my eyes off of you. We'd go out and have a great time, and I'd be so proud that nobody would be able to stand my gloating about it. I promise you'd feel wanted and needed and adored twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. That's just a little of what I've got for you."

Carly stared speechlessly at the young deputy who had dropped his gaze and opened his heart. When he finally raised his eyes to see her reaction, she swallowed hard and attempted to break the thick air of tension. “So, does this sort of line usually work on all the other—?"

“I wouldn't be able to wait until quitting time every day so I could be with you and hear what crazy, brave thing you did that day. Even if I didn't agree with what you were doing, I'd never try to stop you. Unless I thought you were putting yourself in real danger, of course. I'd just read your news stories and admire your guts and determination, and I'd be proud to say, ‘That's my Carly'. I do all that now, except the last part. I'm just counting the days ‘til I can actually call you mine."

Opening her mouth to scoff at his possessive male attitude, she found herself reasoning with him instead. “Robby, you know I'm Boyd's girlfriend. Why do you keep chasing me like this? Is it because I'm the one you can't have?"

“No! There are a lot of girls around here who have boyfriends. That's not it. It's just ... You! You're amazing! I've always thought you were amazing. See, I don't want you so bad ‘cause I can't have you. I'm beginning to think I can't have you ‘cause I want you so bad. Maybe I'm being too open with my feelings. Would I have a better chance if I treated you like Boyd does?"

“You'd better not!” she answered far too quickly than intended. “Look, let's just set aside this cat and mouse game and get on with why we're here, okay?"

“Maybe that's why you're here,” he remarked dismally. “Can you just tell me one thing first? If you weren't with Boyd, would you go out with me?"

Carly looked away, her mind spurring her heart to admit the truth to herself and to Robby. Her heart flatly refused. It was terrified of the feelings the attractive deputy stirred within its chambers, as well as at the prospect of being broken by his roving ways. Suddenly realizing that her silence only served to encourage, she ransacked her brain for a clever way out. Dark humor and sarcasm had always been her friends.

“Why are you asking me that question? Are you going to have Boyd arrested or shot to get him out of your way? Sounds like you're following right in your boss’ footsteps."

“Why can't you just answer the question, Carly?"

“Why can't you take ‘no’ for an answer, Robby?"

“I don't think you've ever said the word ‘no’ to me. Let's see if you can. What if I go ask that pretty blonde girl over there to dance? Would that make you jealous?"

Carly scrambled to her feet. “Are you going to tell me about the lawsuit or not? If not, I'm leaving. I have better things to do with my time than participate in this ridiculous little game of yours."

“See? You just can't say ‘no’ to me, can you?” he asked with a smirk.

Releasing a frustrated puff of air, she turned to leave, but Rob stopped her with mere words. “There's not going to be a lawsuit."

“What?” she asked with an amazed frown, quickly sitting back down in the booth.

“That's right. No charges were filed and there won't be a lawsuit. End of story. Now, let's go back to talking about you and me."

Eleven

Rob refused to tell Carly the whole story until she agreed to dance with him. After several minutes of protesting and compromising, she agreed to dance, but only to one song and it could not be a slow dance. Rob felt as though he were entering through heaven's gates when he led her onto the dance floor, mentally pleading for the song to last forever. To his dismay, the tune ended far too quickly, and she marched back to the booth before he could give her the customary hug he bestowed upon each and every one of his dance partners.

When he finally returned to the booth after turning down several dance requests from female patrons, Carly's impatient glare told him it was time to spill what information he had. “There's really not much to tell, Carly. The cameraman, who claimed to have been struck by the sheriff, showed up at the station the day following the alleged incident. He had the district attorney with him and—"

“The same district attorney who's a close, personal friend of Sheriff Nagle?” Carly asked with disdain.

“Yeah, they're friends. Big deal. Anyway, I'm afraid I don't have any information about what went on in that meeting, but evidently they came to some sort of understanding ‘cause the subject's closed and there's been nothing mentioned about a lawsuit. I guess the guy finally admitted he really did slip on the grass like Sheriff Nagle said he did."

“More blackmail, I'll bet,” she mumbled, shaking her head.

“There you go jumping to conclusions again—Wait a minute ... What do you mean by more blackmail? Who has the sheriff blackmailed already?"

She looked around to make sure no one could hear. “Me,” she answered quietly.

Rob frowned. “What'd he do to you?"

“He threatened to tell outright lies about Wyatt and me and arrest us for something we didn't even do. Please don't tell him I told you, okay?"

“Well, that all depends. What was he going to arrest y'all for?"

“That's not really the issue here,” she stated before taking a huge gulp of soda. “The point is, he was going to take us in on a false charge."

“That's a very serious allegation, Carly. He could get in big trouble if you can prove what you're telling me."

“But I can't prove it! It's his word against mine. And who do you think everyone would believe? I'm sure it isn't me. Besides, I can't risk it because of my dad. I'm only telling you this ‘cause I'm trying to make someone around here realize what kind of man we're dealing with. Don't you believe me, Robby?"

“Of course I believe you. But I'd bet a ton of money that Sheriff Nagle was just bluffing. He probably only wanted to scare you so you wouldn't trespass on his property anymore. I'm sure he'd never follow through with arresting you without proper cause."

“Why does everybody around here defend him? You've already told me what a bad temper he has. I know you're not going to sit there and tell me you honestly believe that cameraman slipped on the grass."

Rob looked around to make sure no one fell within earshot before leaning toward her. “Well, I'll admit I have my doubts, but if the guy doesn't want to press charges, then that's his business. He shouldn't have been trespassing on the sheriff's property in the first place. You set yourself up for all kinds of trouble when you step foot on another man's domain without permission."

“Point well taken, Father Coad. Look, Robby. Blackmail is nothing compared to some of the other things the sheriff's done. Someone shared more information about the Billy Northcutt case with me, but I promised I wouldn't tell anybody. It's pretty serious stuff."

“Did the person who told you this stuff have proof to back it up?"

“No. There's never any proof. Sheriff Nagle's an expert at covering his tracks and keeping folks from talking. I really don't like you working for somebody like that."

An immediate smile broke out on Rob's face, making Carly look as though she would retract her statement. Leaning across the table toward her, he gently interrupted. “Don't worry about me, Carly. You just take care of yourself. Maybe you need to stop doing reports on Sheriff Nagle. You definitely need to stay out of the fence with his bull!

“And I know I haven't been working for the sheriff very long, but I really believe that most of what you hear is just exaggerated rumors. It might not be a bad idea to just let it lie, you know?"

“I can't do that, Robby. You know I can't."

“Yeah, I know,” he stated with unmasked admiration. “Well, Sheriff Nagle's not all bad. He told me he could've easily taken that videotape away from you and Wyatt, but he didn't ‘cause he wanted you to get full credit for being the first on the scene."

She looked doubtful. “He actually said that?"

“Yep. It really bothers him that you dislike him so much. He said he was doing you a favor to try and get in good with you"

“Yeah, I'll bet,” she stated with disgust. “So, he's admitted to you that he likes that reputation of his and doesn't mind it being broadcast all over the news?"

Rob laughed. “Well, yeah! Everybody knows that. He takes pride in being the baddest sheriff in Tennessee. In the whole southeast, I reckon."

“He told me it was a secret. Well, if nothing else, we know he's a liar. So tell me, Deputy. Just what do you think about the sheriff putting prisoners to work on his personal property?"

“Is this off the record?” he asked, glancing discreetly around the room.

“Your personal opinion is always off the record."

“Okay. Well, I'm kind of torn on that one. I do believe that prisoners should have to work like everybody else, but I don't think its right for the sheriff to break the law by using them on his own property. I personally don't see any harm in what he's doing, but it is against the law, and he should set a better example for the community, especially the children.

“There don't seem to be any true role models for kids anymore. I used to look up to the police officers when I was little and thought they were the best folks in the whole wide world. I thought they never broke the law and that they were always there to help when you called for them. Sort of like superheroes. That's the kind of cop I always wanted to be. I guess things aren't so simple when we grow up, are they?"

Carly shook her head, appearing completely engrossed in his candidness and blue eyes. “Things seem to be getting more and more complicated every day,” she said in a far away voice.

Gazing into her confused, mesmerized eyes, he felt a small flicker of hope. He decided to go with the moment. “Carly, please tell me why you won't be my girlfriend. Is it because I'm a cop? Just tell me if that's it, and I'll quit my job tomorrow."

Immediately redirecting her attention to her purse, she scrambled for her car keys. “Don't quit your job, Deputy. This town's in desperate need of a superhero."

“Please don't go,” he pleaded as she stood to her feet. “You don't know how bad I hate seeing you walk away from me. Although the view is really nice."

Carly rolled her eyes but couldn't contain a slight smile. When he smiled back warmly, she turned dead serious. “You know, you're the only guy around here who would say something like that to Plitesville's frostiest ice queen. Do you just enjoy the rejection or what?"

“Ice queen? Why would you call yourself that?” he asked with a laugh.

“Well, the word on the street is that all the guys call me that. I figured you were the one who pinned me with it."

“No way! Whoever called you an ice queen don't know what they're talking about. Sure, you like to hide behind that layer of aloofness, but you're not fooling me for a second. There's enough fire inside of you to turn Iceland into a Caribbean paradise. Antarctica, too!"

She cleared her throat and looked flushed. “Thanks ... For the information about the sheriff,” she clarified quickly, “and the Coke."

“Anytime. It was my pleasure,” he declared wholeheartedly, walking with her toward the door. “If you need any more information, I'd be more than happy to ask around tomorrow and meet you here again. Say tomorrow night, around the same time?"

She shook her head and rolled her eyes. “You've been very helpful, but you're information is limited at best. I doubt the sheriff or his cronies will ever let you in on their little schemes. Not only because you're a clean cop, but because they know you and I are friends."

“Is that all we're ever going to be, Carly? Just friends?” he asked with such a pathetic expression that her stone expression melted into a pool of compassion.

“I-I don't know, Robby. Only God knows what the future holds for any of us."

His creased brow quickly relaxed into an ecstatic grin. “So you're saying I actually have a shot with you!? Well, hot dog and hallelujah! My prayers have been answered! I knew God would eventually give in if I kept praying about this. I'm going home tonight and pray even harder!"

He enthusiastically opened her car door, wearing the happiest smile ever presented on a human being's face. Carly shook her head. “Robby, I didn't mean—"

“Hey, I heard exactly what you said! Don't start back peddling now. Boyd Dennison better watch out. Rob Coad's on the prowl! Move over little kitty, the king of the jungle's moving in!"

She paused, taking a deep breath. “Hold on a minute. I think you misunderstood what I—"

“Please, don't,” he beseeched, gently placing an index finger on her lips. “Don't ruin this for me, okay? Let me enjoy the moment even if I'm making a complete fool of myself. Just say good night, and let me score this one time, all right? You're still about a billion points ahead."

Nodding, she took his hand from her lips, momentarily squeezing it with both of hers and staring into his pleading eyes. “Good night, Robby,” she said softly, before sliding into her car.

“Good night, Carly,” he said with an appreciative smile, closing her car door and watching her start her car and drive away.

Carly couldn't stop thinking about her conversation with Robby, even as she sat with Boyd in the ice cream shop two evenings later. She was afraid she'd given the insatiable young officer an open invitation to step up his unyielding quest. His proclamation sounded as though he might confront her jittery programmer boyfriend, an encounter that would certainly not shed a favorable light on either of her suitors. When a male voice called out her name from across the small shop, she snapped out of her reverie but kept looking straight ahead as if she hadn't heard. Was that Robby's voice?

“Some guy's calling you,” Boyd stated, momentarily looking up from doodling on his napkin.

Carly slowly turned around feeling relieved yet surprised to see a stranger walking towards her. When he reached the table he held out his hand and shook hers vigorously. “You are Carly Wright, aren't you? The girl who was on the news last week?"

“Yeah,” she answered hesitantly, giving her preoccupied boyfriend a slight kick under the table.

“And I'm Boyd,” he sputtered quickly, holding out his hand to the very large, tattooed stranger.

“Hey, Boyd. My name's Leon. Sorry to interrupt, but I'd like to have a word alone with Carly for a few minutes, if you don't mind."

Boyd swallowed hard then frowned. “What about?"

“Well, I just got released from jail a couple of weeks ago, and I'd like to talk to the woman who has a very unhealthy interest in Sheriff Nagle."

“O-Oh, okay,” Boyd said, jumping to his feet. “I'll be right over there. Not listening in or anything."

Carly's mouth flew open with disbelief as her boyfriend unhesitatingly left her at the mercy of the ex-con. When Leon slid into the booth across from her, she pushed herself straight up in the seat and attempted to not sound intimidated. “Now, Leon, before you start telling me how unfair I'm being to the sheriff, let me just say that—"

“Hold on there, Carly. I didn't come over here to harass you. I just thought you'd like to know the real truth. The truth about how Sheriff Nagle gets free work done over at his place."

“What do you mean?” she asked, the familiar sinking feeling forming in her stomach.

Leon leaned in. “The sheriff arrests folks when they haven't done anything wrong just so he can make them do work at his house without having to pay them for it. That's what happened to me."

Carly suddenly realized she was holding her breath and let it out quickly as she pulled her notepad out of her purse. “Go on,” she said, scrambling through her belongings for a pen.

“Hey, wait a minute. I'm not here to give an official statement or anything. I just wanted to talk to somebody who'd believe me for a change. I went to jail ‘cause my own lawyer didn't even believe me. I'll be glad to tell you everything, but you've got to promise not to repeat it, especially to the news people. No telling what the sheriff would arrest me for next time around."

Carly rubbed her forehead with frustration. “But I only write for a college newspaper. It's not like many people would see it."

“Are you kidding me? Everybody around here's talking about the stuff you're writing in that college paper. It's becoming more popular than the Plitesville Sentry."

“Really?” she asked brightly. “Well, what if I don't reveal the specific details or mention your name? Can I at least give a general description of the incident but credit the story to an anonymous source?"

“I don't know. I'm afraid the sheriff might figure out who squealed and come after me again. My ol’ lady will kill me if I end up back in jail."

“Okay ... Well, what if I report what you tell me but write the story as if it's my own theory? I won't mention that anyone told me anything."

Leon shrugged thoughtfully. “I reckon that'd be okay as long as I can approve what you write. I would like folks around here to know the truth. I just don't want to get myself in trouble again."

“All right. Tell me your story, and I promise to only print it after you give it your okay."

He studied her eyes a moment before nodding. “Well, first off, let me tell you that my name's not really Leon. But I think I'll keep my real name to myself just for peace of mind."

“Fair enough,” she said with an uncomfortable laugh, glancing at her boyfriend who sat as stiff as a corpse several booths away.

Leon leaned across the table toward her and spoke in a quiet voice. “Okay, here's the deal. Whenever Sheriff Nagle needs some work done down at his house, he gets the jailers to find out if any of the prisoners are qualified to do it. When his house needed a whole new plumbing system, I guess there weren't any plumbers locked up at the time. I've heard that he was asking around to find out who did the best plumbing work in Plitesville. Well, guess whose name kept coming up every time. That's right; mine!

“Next thing I know, I'm being hauled in on some bogus charge of theft by taking. They claimed to have found some stolen video equipment and stereos on my property, but I swear I didn't take that stuff, Carly. They must have planted it there just so they could lock me up and make me do the sheriff's plumbing work for him. I've never stolen anything in my life."

Carly continued writing furiously. “Had you ever been arrested before?"

He looked away and sighed. “Yeah. I spent a night or two in jail for fighting down at Johnnie's Hangout. But I ain't no thief. I swear it! Don't tell me you don't believe me either."

She stopped writing and looked into the large man's eyes. “I do believe you, Leon. I really do. It would just make a more compelling story if I could say the sheriff was arresting men who didn't have records."

“Well, sorry to ruin your story, but the sheriff don't just look for the most qualified person for the job. He also makes sure they've been in a little bit of trouble before. He's a sly one, that Sheriff Nagle."

“So you know for a fact there've been others who were framed just to do work at his house?"

“I could give you the names of three other guys this has happened to besides me. But I won't,” he added after Carly inquisitively raised her eyebrows.

She nodded with resignation. “So why don't you and these other guys get together and have this investigated? Surely somebody can put a stop to it."

He laughed. “And who's going to take the word of four ex-cons? We were all convicted of crimes ‘cause there was hard evidence against us. We wouldn't have a leg to stand on. Nobody would even agree to take on a case like that. It would look like four bitter crooks looking for revenge against the sheriff who caught them."

“So he wins again,” she muttered to herself, staring at the dismal notes before her.

“Yep,” Leon stated with a nod. “The only positive thing I can say about that no-good pig is that he did show me a little mercy. He turned me loose just as soon as all the work was done."

Carly nodded, a desperate idea suddenly filling her head. “Hey, maybe that's the way to get the sheriff investigated. Someone needs to look into why he's releasing certain prisoners early. Maybe they'll put two and two together."

“No, all that'll do is make the poor guys who were wrongly arrested have to serve their full sentences. Believe me, Carly; I've thought of every possible angle, but the sheriff's got it all covered. All I can hope for is that he'll slip up one day and somebody will bring him down. That and hope he doesn't need any more plumbing work done at his house! I'd love to move out of this town, but I just can't afford it right now."

She nodded sympathetically. “Well, thanks for sharing your story with me. Maybe if enough folks start coming forward, justice can be served."

Leon rose to his feet. “Folks aren't going to come forward until someone higher up takes a stand against Sheriff Nagle. Can't you get your daddy to do something about this?"

She looked away. “Well, things are kind of complicated for the mayor of a city..."

“Right,” Leon stated sardonically. “Well, thank you for listening, Carly. I don't reckon it's really necessary for you to let me read your report before you print it. You seem pretty trustworthy to me."

“Thanks,” she replied with a slight smile.

Leon hesitated briefly then bent at the waist and looked directly into his interviewer's eyes, speaking softly. “I have been wrong about a few people in my time, so let me leave you with this thought. See your puny little boyfriend over there? If you want him to stay in one piece, make sure you don't go printing something you shouldn't, okay?"

Leaning away from his intense glare, she nodded rapidly. He returned one final nod then stood up and held out his hand. Carly shook the ex-con's calloused hand then watched with angst as he walked purposely over to her boyfriend. Wearing a friendly smile, he tipped his baseball cap at Boyd—making it apparent that he had stopped to memorize his face—before giving Carly one last confirming glance.

As soon as Leon exited, Boyd ran back to the booth where Carly sat. “Is everything all right?” he asked taking her hand into his.

Carly promptly pulled her hand away and stood to her feet. “Well, I thought everything was all right. Now, I'm not so sure,” she said curtly, turning and walking out the door.

Twelve

As Carly drove back to the dorm, she fought to contain the inferno of anger brewing inside of her that had Boyd's name written all over it. Although he was justified in being intimidated by the monstrous ex-con, the fact that he left her alone to fend for herself without looking back even once hurt and enraged her. She was also furious with herself for imagining how differently the scene would've been had Robby Coad been sitting across from her. After thoroughly admonishing herself for falling victim to the smooth propaganda of a notorious player, she turned her thoughts back to Leon and his intriguing accusation toward Sheriff Nagle.

When she reached her dorm room, she quickly read over her notes from the afternoon and developed a nagging feeling that she had missed a clue somewhere in a prior interview. When her brain's search engine failed to come up with a basis for the vexing notion, she decided to review her notes, pictures, and videos in the hope that something would trigger her memory. Taking a sip of water and turning on the video of the inmates performing their slave labor, she almost choked when the image of a very sheepish prisoner appeared on the screen. She rewound the tape and watched the footage in its entirety again, noticing how he stood off to himself and never broke into laughter as did the other inmates.

After hearing his chilling request that Carly let them return to work because “the sooner they finish the better", she stopped the tape and rewound it over and over again to study his anxious expression and listen to his pleading words. During her ice cream parlor interview, Leon stated that he had been released from jail as soon as he completed his work. Perhaps the nameless inmate in the video had also been arrested on false charges and promised clemency at the completion of his assigned task. Carly quickly gathered up her notepad and a picture of the mystery man's face and ran down the stairs of her dormitory while dialing Robby's cell phone number.

“Yeah, I know who this is,” Rob stated, handing the picture back to Carly. “His name's Gary Lee Chestner. He got arrested a few weeks ago for theft. Why are you so interested in him all of a sudden?"

“Oh, it's just a lead I'm following. Theft again, huh? You'd think the sheriff would get a little more creative and come up with a different charge."

“What in the world's going on inside that gorgeous head of yours now?” Rob asked, walking beside her through the deserted park.

“Not anything you'd be interested in hearing. What was Gary Lee accused of stealing?"

“They found some tools that were taken from the hardware store stashed behind his barn. He claimed he didn't take them, but that's kind of hard to believe when there's hard evidence staring us in the face."

“Just what the sheriff's counting on,” she muttered as they strolled along the winding path. “What's this guy do for a living?"

“He's a builder. I reckon that's why he stole tools. He builds small stuff: decks, barns, sheds, things like that."

Carly came to a halt. “Don't you find it a little coincidental that a builder gets arrested just about the time Sheriff Nagle needs a new garage?"

She expected laughter, but instead Rob shook his head and looked into her eyes with sincere concern. “Poor Carly. It's such a shame that Boyd Dennison can't keep you entertained. You've got all this extra time to just sit around and let your imagination run wild. If you were my girlfriend, I'd—"

“You'd be miserable ‘cause you wouldn't be able to tomcat all over town anymore!"

“Miserable? No way! I'd be the happiest guy the world's ever seen. If I had you, my tomcattin’ days would be over. How many times do I have to tell you that?"

“And how many times do I have to tell you to stay on the subject?” she asked as she resumed walking at a much quicker pace, desperately in need of an excuse for her sudden shortness of breath.

Rob quickly followed. When he caught up, he walked with his hands crossed behind him as if handcuffed, his head lowered toward her so as not to miss one syllable. “Okay, we'll come back to that subject later. What else do you want to know about Chestner?"

“Do you think he'd agree to talk with me?"

“He'd be a fool if he didn't!"

“Seriously, Robby. If I pay him a visit in jail, do you think he'll open up to me? He seemed kind of reserved at the Sheriff's place. Of course, I guess I would be, too, with an armed guard looking over my shoulder all day."

“He is kind of the quiet type. What do you want to talk to him about?"

“I want to know if the sheriff promised to release him as soon as the garage is finished. I understand that's the agreement whenever he arrests someone just to get free work done at his house."

Rob stopped dead in his tracks, reaching out and gently bringing her to a stop as well. “Have you been interviewing prisoners and ex-cons again? I really wish you wouldn't do that. I worry about you. If something was to ever happen to you, I don't know how I'd stand it. And I'd really hate to get myself arrested for taking down a guy who dared hurt you in some way."

Carly's memory made an immediate U-turn back to the ice cream parlor and the vivid picture of Boyd defecting to a safer booth without regard for her well being. “That's very superheroish of you, Deputy,” she stated appreciatively with just a hint of sarcasm.

He gave a crooked smiled. “Nah. It's just natural to want to protect the woman you dream about day and night. Look, Carly, I don't want to tell you how to do your job, but do you really think that criminals are your best source of information? I mean, think about it. These are the folks that try to get away with breaking the law and hurting people. They're the bad guys. Not exactly reliable sorts, you know? It's not surprising that they'd have nothing but bad things to say about the sheriff. I'm sure most of the guys he's had locked up would just love to find a way to get back at him.

“Maybe it's time you started interviewing the nice, law-abiding citizens for a change and find out what they have to say about the sheriff. As much as I admire your bravery, I'd sleep better at night knowing you weren't consorting with the same guys I have to chase down and throw in jail every day."

“Did you ever stop to think that maybe not all the guys in your jail are guilty?"

“Of course,” he stated with a serious nod. “Everybody knows the jails are just full of innocent folks."

“Sarcasm will get you nowhere, Deputy,” she stated with a half-smile.

Rob reached out and boldly took her hand into both of his. “Okay, so tell me what will get me somewhere,” he said with deep intentness.

She neither replied nor looked into her pursuer's eyes. Instead, she stared at the large hands that tenderly held hers and told herself not to fall into the strong arms to which they were connected as her heart begged her to do. “Robby, please don't do this,” she said, gently pulling her hand away when he raised it toward his lips. “Don't make me say things that'll hurt you. You've been very helpful as usual, and I don't want to see that look of rejection on your face again when it's time for me to leave. In fact, I'd better be going now. I've got an interview with a renowned mobster at five o'clock!"

He sighed deeply. “I don't know why you won't give me a chance, but I'm not going to give up, ever! You mark my words, Carly Wright. One day, we will be together and you're going to wonder why you wasted so much time turning me down. I'm just trying to do you a favor and keep you from experiencing bouts of deep regret."

“How very valiant,” she stated with feigned swooning.

“Make fun of me all you want. I can take it ‘cause I know I'm right about this. I know I'm right about us. I think you know it, too. You're just too blasted cautious with that heart of yours."

“That's right. I'm not so foolish as to hand my heart over to Plitesville's most notorious heartbreaker. With all due respect, Deputy, you should be in jail yourself for stealing and vandalizing the hearts of countless young women in this town."

“And you should be in jail for doing the same thing to me! Plus false advertising."

“False advertising?” she asked with a frown.

“Yeah. You lead folks to believe that you're a hard-hearted reporter who's afraid of nothing and nobody. But I know the truth. You've got a heart of gold hidden down deep inside. It's obvious by the way you try and protect your father. And that same heart's scared to death of giving itself to somebody who's crazy about you. Please don't be afraid, Carly. I promise I'm not going to hurt you."

She looked away. “I'm sure you wouldn't mean to, Robby. I'm just not a gambler when it comes to my heart. You have to admit that when you look at your record, it doesn't appear that the odds are stacked in my favor, now does it?"

“No,” he admitted regretfully. “But that doesn't mean I'm incapable of being true to one woman. Just say you'll give me a chance. That's all I'm asking."

Carly hated herself for desperately wanting to nod in agreement, yet hated herself even more for shaking her head. “I can't,” she stated quietly. “Right now, I'm a little too busy giving Boyd a chance. Unlike you, I can only handle one relationship at a time. I've got to go."

“Wait,” he bade, following as she retreated back to her car. “What if I swear off all other women for a while? Let's say I don't see anybody for a week. Will you go out with me next Saturday night if I can stick to it?"

She continued to march toward her vehicle. “Wow, a whole week! Why don't you go into the priesthood while you're at it?"

“Okay, two weeks. A month. A year. Whatever it takes! Just say you'll give me a chance, and I'm through dating around. Rob Coad will take himself off the market for good."

She quickly unlocked her car door. “And deprive the female gender of your blessed presence? I couldn't live with myself."

As she stepped into her car, he kneeled down beside her, blocking her ability to slam the door in his face yet again. “I'm going to do it anyway, Carly. I'm going to show you I can be true to you, even though I don't even have you yet. I don't know what else to do to convince you I'm serious."

“And just how am I supposed to know you're not seeing anybody?” she asked, concealing the inner excitement his proposal awakened within her.

“That's easy. Just come to Johnnie's every night and see for yourself. I'll be there, but I'll be hanging out with my buddies. I won't be talking to any women or dancing with them or even looking at them for that matter. I'll show you once and for all that I can do this."

She shook her head and laughed. “This is just another attempt to trick me into going out with you, isn't it? If I show up at Johnnie's, it'll be like we're on a date together."

“Okay, then send somebody else to spy on me. Or come yourself and bring your friends. Bring Boyd if you want. It'll kill me to see you with him, but if that's what it takes to prove myself to you, it'll be worth the torture."

“This is the most ridiculous idea I've ever heard in my life. There's no way I'm going to tell you to give up dating for me when I have a boyfriend. That wouldn't be fair at all."

“That's right,” Rob said with a grin, standing to his feet. “But as of this moment, I'm declaring myself undatable to anyone except you. I guess you'll just have to live with the guilt, won't you?"

Looking up into his mischievous eyes, she squinted doubtfully. “I think you're bluffing,” she stated as if participating in a high stakes poker game.

“Well, there's only one way to find out..."

She shook her head, an amused smile forming on her lips. “You've stooped to an all-time low, Robby Coad."

“Well, I've tried being Mr. Nice Guy for a couple of years now, and it's gotten me nowhere. I guess it's time I tried a different approach. I just hope you don't lose too much sleep over being the cause of my complete and utter loneliness. If I were you, I'd at least show up at Johnnie's and dance with the lonely slug who's pinning away in solitary confinement over you. It might help ease a little bit of that guilt that's going to slowly eat away at you day after day."

“You're only hurting yourself, Robby. I never asked you to stop seeing other people. I refuse to take the blame for your self-inflicted pain."

“Whatever helps you sleep at night. See you at Johnnie's,” he stated with complete confidence. Closing the car door, he smiled down at her with his arms crossed authoritatively across his chest.

She rolled down her window. “I'm not going to feel guilty ‘cause you're not going to be able to stick to this crazy plan for more than a couple of days! At the most!"

Rob bent down, leaning his forearm across the window and speaking in a low, smooth voice. “Like I said before. There's only one way to find out."

As she rolled her eyes and started the car, he surprised her with a quick kiss on the cheek before standing up and strolling arrogantly toward his vehicle.

While driving to the Plites county jail, Carly fought hard to contain the giddy smile that continuously erupted on her lips.

Thirteen

Gary Lee Chestner stopped dead in his tracks when he saw that the visitor he'd been summoned to see was Carly Wright. The guard looked at him understandingly while he appeared to struggle with whether or not to speak with the mayor's pesky daughter. After a lengthy deliberation, he sighed and nodded at the guard who then escorted him to the chair facing the Plexiglas window. Carly already held the telephone receiver in her hand, and he hesitantly picked his up, firing off hostile questions before she could begin her interrogation. “What do you want now? Didn't you get all the information you needed out at the sheriff's place?"

She shook her head. “No. I don't even think I scratched the surface. First off, we were never formally introduced. My name's Carly and I know that yours is Gary Lee. Now I'll get right to the point. I was hoping you'd expound further on why you're so anxious to get finished with Sheriff Nagle's garage."

Gary Lee stared silently at her for a moment before speaking. “Why should I tell you anything?” he asked impatiently, his hand posed to hang up the phone at any minute.

Carly realized she should head into the home stretch, even though she had only begun the race. “I have reason to believe that Sheriff Nagle's using his position to get free work done at his house. I know you're a builder, and I know you pleaded ‘not guilty’ to the charges of theft. When I put two and two together, I have to wonder if you were framed just so Sheriff Nagle could get a quality garage built at his house without having to pay for it. Is that what happened, Gary Lee? If so, I'll do everything I can to expose the truth and help you prove it."

He stared at her with hopeless and bitter eyes. “There's nothing you could possibly do to help me. All you are is an overzealous college kid who's out to make a name for herself. I don't want no part of your little crusade. Leave my name out of your school newspaper and leave me alone!” Slamming the phone receiver back into its bracket, he stalked toward the guard, who escorted him through the prison doors.

Carly sighed loudly as she hung up the phone and walked out of the visitor's area.

The remainder of the evening, she meticulously studied the videotape of her interview with the toiling inmates in search of any clue that might lead her to a victim more willing to cooperate. Even though she wanted to print her findings in the next edition of The Speerings, she hated to print them as an editorial piece and risk yet another lecture from Professor McCoy. If she could find just one man willing to step forward and verify Leon's story, she would finally have the evidence needed to prove that Sheriff Nagle was indeed the evil tyrant she had portrayed.

She agreed with Robby's assertion that criminals would not be viewed as the most reliable sources in the world. But if her article could spark an investigation, then maybe the truth would come to light at last. She knew she had to try. She hoped she would not die trying. It was highly improbable that her status as the mayor's daughter or Sheriff Nagle's fondness for her physique would forever insure her safety from his wrath, no matter how much he claimed to enjoy his infamy.

When she tired of watching the video over and over again with no hint of a new lead, she turned off the television set and stared at the ceiling, turning her thoughts to other matters. She knew she should return Boyd's call, but she had yet to decide if his latest offense warranted the final punch of his last chance card. Was his fear of being pummeled by a man twice his size really deserving of a break-up?

There also remained the question as to whether she was merely looking for an excuse to end the relationship because of Robby's impulsive pledge of commitment. She hated to make such a serious decision based on the empty promises of a Casanova, despite the fact that she'd harbored doubts about her relationship with Boyd for some time. Until she could get a handle on the inexplicable giddiness Robby's proposition conjured up within her, she knew she should not be hasty in making a decision. Boyd would just have to be patient and wait for her call.

Of course, Boyd's exerting himself for any cause was about as likely to happen as Robby Coad keeping his vow of abstinence for more than twenty-four hours. She doubted he'd make it past nine P.M.! As Carly's thoughts drifted to a hazy motion picture of romance with the young rookie, his compelling words rang in her ears.

“There's only one way to find out..."

Impulsively, she grabbed her purse and headed out the door, her targeted destination: Johnnie's Hangout.

Carly sat in her car, staring at the flashing neon lights atop the nightclub. She shifted into reverse with every intention of returning to the dorm with her pride still in tact. She knew if she did, however, that she'd spend a sleepless night filled with curiosity and maddening imaginations.

Silently condemning Robby for captivating her with his pledge of fidelity then luring her into his tender trap, she turned off her engine and angrily threw her keys into her purse. How had she become a pawn in a risky game of chance? Why did she keep losing more and more control over her once rigidly stable and predictable world?

In spite of her reservations, she knew she must walk into Johnnie's Hangout and see with her own eyes that the consummate Don Juan was purposely without female companionship. The difficult part would be accomplishing this mandatory task without the clever young officer seeing her. The last thing he needed was another boost to his already robust ego.

As Carly stepped out of her vehicle, the answer to her dilemma became apparent at the sight of a waitress tossing murky dishwater from the back door. Carly quickly headed for the same door, her heart thumping loudly with anticipation, yet weighing heavy at the thought of witnessing Robby breaking his vow. She glanced at her watch. It was already twelve minutes past nine, the hour she predicted would mark the swift conclusion of his stab at self-control.

At first, Carly walked casually toward the kitchen entrance. Her stroll quickly turned into a hurried pace, then into a jog. Within seconds, she took off running at full speed, begging herself not to burst into tears should she find that her prediction had materialized. She also ordered herself not to burst into song if, by some miracle, Robby had managed to keep his word.

After hesitating outside the door a moment, she slowly turned the handle and entered underneath the sign that read, “Employees Only". Cautiously making her way through the busy kitchen, she remained unnoticed until reaching the door leading into the club.

“Hey, what are you doing back here?” Johnnie yelled, running over to meet her. “Oh no, not you! Why are you snooping around my kitchen? What kind of trouble are you trying to stir up now?"

She quickly turned on her reporter persona. “Well, actually, this isn't about your club, Mr. Maloney. I just wanted to check out some of the customers sitting at your bar."

“Is Sheriff Nagle out there?” Johnnie asked in a panicky voice, peeking through the swinging door.

“No, but a few of his deputies are. Mind if I hang out in here and watch them through the door for a few minutes?” she asked, straining to see over his shoulder.

“And just what are you expecting to see? Those guys are some of my best customers!” He pulled the door closed before she had the chance to spot Rob.

“You never know what you might see around this town. There are news stories everywhere."

He eyed her suspiciously. “Something tells me there's more to this than you're telling me. I don't think I like the idea of you spying on my regular customers. It'd be best if you leave right now. And go out the front door like a civilized person."

She smiled pleasantly. “Okay. But since I won't be able to put together a story about the sheriff's deputies, I guess I'll just have to go with another one. Hmm, let's see ... How about the one about the bar owner who mixes non-alcoholic beer with the draft beer so his customers will order more? I wonder how his regulars will feel about that ... Especially the ones who work for Sheriff Nagle."

Johnny's mouth fell open. “Who told you that? It's a lie!"

“I have my sources. And they're very reliable. I've wanted to report this scandal for a while, but I've been too busy with my stories on the sheriff. I guess now would be as good a time as any since I can't come up with anything else,” she stated with a shrug, pushing against the swinging door.

“Wait a second,” he said, grabbing her arm. “Just how long do you want to spy on the deputies?"

“As long as it takes. And you let me leave the way I came in, and you don't tell the deputies or anybody else about this. Ever!"

“As long as you don't mention my bar in your newspaper, it's a deal,” he said, holding out his hand.

“Deal,” she agreed, shaking his hand firmly.

“Just stay out of everybody's way and no more snooping around.” Walking over to the cook, he explained that the mayor's nosey daughter would be their guest for the evening.

Carly took a deep breath before slowly pushing on the door until the crack grew large enough to view the bar. Scanning the crowd, her heart sank. Where was the chiseled face of Deputy Coad? There was a small group of off-duty deputies standing in a huddle, but Robby was not among them.

Quickly moving to the other side of the door, she peeped through the small opening between the hinges. She skimmed the crowd on the dance floor, but Robby was nowhere in sight. Her eyes quickly swept across the room, taking in the patrons sitting at tables and cuddled together in private booths along the walls. Although the dimly lit room shaded many of the faces, Carly felt fairly certain that none of them belonged to the cunning rookie.

Robby had to be in the building somewhere. She'd driven around the parking lot and located his car long before proceeding with her harebrained scheme. Maybe he decided to leave while she stood in the kitchen bargaining with Johnnie! She hoped not. If he saw her car in the parking lot ... Well, heaven help her if he did!

Carly quickly shifted back to the other side of the door and continued to search through the myriad of persons. No sign of Deputy Coad anywhere.

As she considered heading back to the parking lot to see if his vehicle was still there, a peculiar sight caught her eye. A young woman appeared to be engaged in a heated conversation with three of the deputies who were gathered around the bar. The trio of men stood shoulder to shoulder with their arms crossed, shaking their heads at the irate female and occasionally pointing as if to send her away. Carly finally recognized her to be a fellow student in her English class, a senior named Melanie Sikes. Just when it appeared that Melanie stood on the verge of ejection, Rob's head popped up above the other deputies’ and he stepped down from his barstool to push through the small crowd.

Carly's hand flew to her mouth as she watched the most eligible bachelor in Plitesville gently reason with the infatuated college girl before sending her disappointedly on her way. When he returned to his place of refuge, and his loyal buddies gathered back around to ward off any potential temptresses, Carly lowered her hand from her mouth and an ecstatic smile involuntarily burst forth on her lips. Robby had formed a support group to assist in his vow of abstention, and the cleverness of the plan caused Carly to throw back her head and let out a laugh of utter joy.

Johnnie shot a questioning look her way as she cupped her hands over her face and giggled while facing the closed door. The nightclub owner's look of confusion turned to concern when her laughter suddenly stopped and she returned to her stakeout bearing a somber expression. It had quickly dawned on her that Robby must've received a severe ribbing from his friends, in addition to the exasperation of turning down droves of amorous young females.

Her heart stirred with feelings of sympathy mixed with complete adoration as she stared at the guards keeping watch over her pursuer. She suddenly developed a desire to walk into the nightclub, push the three watchmen aside, and officially declare herself Robby Coad's girlfriend. Instead, she remained safely behind her wooden shield. It would take more than a few hours of restraint to convince her that “Horny Toad Coad” would be able to commit himself to her completely. And would he be capable of keeping his promise without the aid of three strapping young deputies at his side? There also remained the question as to whether he'd be as enchanted by her once the excitement of the chase was over.

For two years, Carly convinced herself that Robby's working for Sheriff Nagle immediately eliminated him from the dating pool—setting aside his reputation with the ladies. But lately, his honesty, integrity and vision of becoming a superhero to the kids of Plitesville had caused her to reevaluate her original decree. As long as he held fast to his convictions and steered clear of the sheriff's web of corruptness, he couldn't be written off completely, based on his choice of vocations. Carly had unwavering faith in Robby as a cop. If only she could feel as convinced about his ability to remain faithful.

After several more minutes of staring contemplatively at the band of enablers huddled around the bar, Carly decided that Robby just might make it through his first night of temperance. Thanking Johnnie for his cooperation, she headed for the door with the club owner following closely behind. “So, did you see anything interesting out there?” he inquired coldly.

“Very interesting,” she said with a content smile. “But I may have to come back a few more time to really get the whole story."

“Great,” he muttered. “I look forward to being the victim of more blackmail from an amateur reporter."

Carly winced apologetically. “I'm sorry, Mr. Maloney. I usually don't stoop so low, but this was really important to me. My advice to you is to stop ripping off your customers. Then you won't have to worry about being found out."

“Oh, so now you're writing an advice column, huh? Well, let me offer you a little piece of advice, college girl. If you know what's good for you, you'll stop sticking your nose in Sheriff Nagle's business. You'll never make any friends that way."

“Oh, you'd be surprised at the friends I've made,” she stated, envisioning the faces of Billy Northcutt's widow and Leon, the falsely accused. “Well, thanks again. I'll see ya next time."

“Great. I've finally got a reason to use that long roll of red carpet stored back here."

* * * *

Back in the bar, Rob laughed good-naturedly as his friends and cohorts teased him. They simply could not understand his pledge of fidelity to the mayor's daughter. Because of her, he'd had the word “rejected” stamped across him more times than a mule's application to join a stud farm. Continuing with the equine theme, they accused him of being as stubborn as a mule and not knowing when to surrender. They also charged him with looking like a complete jackass by chasing after a crazed female whose prime objective was to undermine the hard work of their beloved leader.

As they came up with catchy phrases to describe Carly such as “beautiful but batty", “hot but hostile", and “inviting but icy", Rob soon stopped laughing, his face turning the usual shade of red that emerged whenever disparaging comments were made about the one he adored. “Shut up, you pinheads! Y'all just don't know her like I do."

His partner patted his back encouragingly. “Chill out, man. They don't mean any harm. Look, we're all just concerned about you, all right? It's really painful to old married men like us to see you give up all these fine chicks. Are you really sure she's worth it?"

While a smile tugged at his lips, a faraway look filled Rob's eyes. “Is a mule ornery?"

Fourteen

Boyd's face expressed his surprise when he opened the front door and found Carly standing there. “Hey,” she said unemotionally as he stared at her in silence, squinting from the bright afternoon sunshine.

“Hey,” he said uncertainly.

She waited for her boyfriend to invite her inside, but he remained speechless. “May I use your computer?” she finally asked impatiently.

He frowned deeply. “What for?"

“I need to do some research and my laptop is in the shop right now. Don't worry, Boyd. I promise not to hurt your precious baby. I know how much she means to you."

He hesitated. “Well, I'm kind of in the middle of something right now..."

“Fine,” she spat, turning away. “Sorry to have bothered you."

Boyd watched her stalk toward her car until it appeared to dawn on him that he should go after her. “Hold on!” he yelled, running down the walk. “Would it be okay if I helped you with your research?"

Carly laughed and turned toward him. “Is that all you have to say to me, Boyd?"

He shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. “Well, no ... Um ... I-I wanted to say that I'm really sorry about the other day. I acted like a total wimp, leaving you all alone with that ex-con. I sure hope you can forgive me. I-I miss you, Carly."

Sympathy, confusion and guilt filled Carly's heart as she looked into his sad eyes. Okay, so maybe he still had a lot to learn about women and wasn't a smooth talker with come-on lines that could melt an iceberg. But he was loyal and undeniably sincere, during those rare times when she could drag his feelings out of him. She tried to convince herself that she was better off with someone she could trust, but pictures of the confident Deputy Coad continually flashed across her mind.

Shaking her head as if to topple the frames displaying the distracting images, she impulsively decided that Boyd still had one strike left and Robby's voluntary aloneness was his own problem. If he was truly serious about his commitment to her, he could wait while she sorted through her feelings.

She suddenly realized that Boyd had taken hold of her hand and that his face exhibited the pain of a man slowly dying from anticipation. “It's okay, Boyd,” she whispered encouragingly. “I forgive you."

As they walked toward the door hand-in-hand, Boyd exhibited a hint of courage. “So, we're okay, then?"

More guilt filled Carly's heart when she answered. “Yeah, we're fine."

For now, she thought as Boyd stopped and hugged her appreciatively before leading her into the house.

Once in his room, Boyd assisted Carly in locating a website that listed the names, offenses, and sentences of everyone who had been incarcerated in the state of Tennessee during the course of the previous three years. They then narrowed down the search until the list contained Plites county convicts only. While Boyd returned to work on his own project, Carly highlighted the name of each person arrested for theft then looked up the phone numbers of those inmates who had completed their sentences.

When she grew weary and frustrated from enduring derogatory name calling, scathing insults, and the abrupt sound of a dial tone, she decided to take a detour. Dialing the Channel Eight News station, she asked to speak to Jason Fearon, the cameraman who claimed to have been assaulted by Sheriff Nagle. The receptionist informed her that Mr. Fearon left the company to pursue a career in another state and had given no forwarding address or phone number.

Carly quietly thanked the receptionist then hung up and stared at the phone in deep, dismal thought. With what had Sheriff Nagle threatened Jason that would cause him to uproot his family and evacuate his home? Why couldn't she find just one person brave enough to come forward and take a stand? Even though it appeared she stood alone, her conviction stood as strong as ever: Sheriff Nagle embodied a soul too evil and despicable for words. Unfortunately, she had no evidence to back up her belief.

With the hopelessness of the situation suddenly crashing down upon her, she threw her elbows on the desk and placed her face in her hands. She scoured her brain for a solution, thinking one may be hidden beneath the confusion and doubt generated by her unsettled love life. Her personal struggles were most assuredly muddying her thought process, making it impossible to stay focused. So limited was her concentration that she wasn't certain how long she sat in her posture of discouragement, but when she finally raised her head, she realized that Boyd continued to work intently on his computer. As usual, he appeared completely oblivious to her frustration, but she decided to give him one more chance to prove his interest in her and her affairs.

“Hey, Boyd. How do you feel about me trying to expose Sheriff Nagle?"

As he continued to type furiously, she watched the clock on his wall, timing how long it would take him to realize she had spoken. “Huh?” he asked, after an eleven-second delay.

She signed wearily. “What do you think about all the things I've been reporting about Sheriff Nagle?"

“Oh. I think if that's what makes you happy, that's what you should do."

“But what do you think about the accusations I've made against him? Do you agree or disagree?"

Boyd looked at her as if she were a cruel trapper. “Uh ... Well, since you're my girlfriend, I agree with you. That's how it's supposed to be, right?"

“And what if I wasn't your girlfriend? How would you feel then?” she asked, crossing her arms.

“I'd feel terrible,” he quickly stated, giving her a worried frown.

“No. I meant how would you feel about my articles about the sheriff?” she asked impatiently, yet feeling pangs of guilt over his answer.

He squirmed nervously in his chair. “Well, to tell you the truth, I probably wouldn't read your articles unless they were posted on a website. You know that just about everything I read comes from the Internet."

“Boy, do I ever. Look, it's okay if you don't agree with me. We don't have to share the same opinion on everything. I was just curious, that's all."

“Oh, okay,” he answered, sounding relieved.

She waited for him to present his views, looking forward to a titillating debate, but he disappointed her yet again. “So are you going to share your thoughts with me or not?"

While he stuttered and stammered his excuses, Carly imagined what Robby's answer would've been: "If I shared my thoughts with you, you'd slap my face!"

She couldn't contain a snicker.

“Are you laughing at me?” he asked timidly.

“No. I was just thinking about something else. Well, I need to get going now, I guess."

He followed her to the door. “You are still coming over tonight, aren't you? It's the night of the big tournament."

“Oh, yeah. Well, I have The Speerings staff meeting this evening, but I guess I can come over for a little while after that."

“Good. I wasn't looking forward to facing Lukas alone. I'm glad you showed up today, Carly. I really did miss you. I'll see ya tonight, then. Right?"

She nodded slightly then gave Boyd a quick kiss. “Yeah, I'll see ya,” she said with a distinct tone of dread, walking quickly toward the door and leaving her boyfriend wearing a worried frown.

At The Speerings staff meeting that evening, Carly placed Wyatt in charge while she scribbled down an editorial piece on Sheriff Nagle. She shook her head angrily as she proofread it, desperately wishing for solid evidence to write an actual news story. At the end of the meeting, when everyone else had departed, she handed Wyatt her completed work, and his eyes grew wide at the sight of its title. “Professor McCoy's going to kill us if we print this,” he stated, scanning the piece of paper.

“We'll put it in the editorial section. I have a right to my opinion, don't I?"

“Yeah, but don't you think you're taking it a little too far? I mean, look at your first line: ‘Saul Irving Nagle: Is it mere coincidence that our sheriff's initials spell SIN?’ Come on, Carly. Why are you resorting to such cheap sensationalism?"

She squinted at him angrily. “Because this town needs to wake up, that's why! I know for a fact there are people who could back me up on every last thing I said in that editorial, but they're all too chicken to do it. I've had folks approach me with stories that you wouldn't believe, but they made me promise not to tell anybody. All I can do is keep the topic alive and hope that somebody around here gets brave enough to investigate the sheriff's actions."

“There have always been tall tales floating around about the sheriff, and everybody loves it. Do you honestly think anyone's going to take you seriously when your editorial condemns someone who's considered a hero in this town?"

“Probably not. But I've got to do something!” she stated with loud unmitigated frustration.

“Yeah, but maybe what you ought to be doing is going out and having a little fun instead of spending all your energy on this. There'll be plenty of time to take on this town's injustices when you're out of school and living in the real world."

“Believe me; I'm already living there..."

He studied her face. “Yeah, I know what you mean. Hey, why don't we head over to Johnnie's after we're done and blow off a little steam? I'd love to hear all about this real world you're living in."

“I can't. I promised Boyd I'd watch him play in the on-line chess tournament tonight. He's up against Germany's number one ranked player."

“Ooh, can I come? Sounds like a sure-fire cure for my insomnia."

“I know. It's not the most exciting way to spend an evening, but I told him I'd be there. He's really into it, and I want to be a supportive girlfriend."

“Well, that's very honorable of you, but if he were any kind of boyfriend, he wouldn't ask you to spend the evening at Snooze-fest Central. You can't tell me you'd rather sit and watch two geeks battling it out over the Internet than go to Johnnie's Hangout and dance with a certain deputy sheriff. I'll bet he'll be there tonight."

“Oh, I'm sure he will be. But I don't want to see him. And I sure don't want to dance with him!"

“Why not? All the other women seem to like him."

“Yeah, and he likes them, too. All of them!"

“Only until you walk into the room. That night I forced you to go to Johnnie's, didn't you see the way he dropped that girl he was dancing with when he saw you? After he discovered you were there, every other female in the room could've got completely naked and he still would have been staring at you. You had to notice it, Carly. Everybody else sure did."

“Yeah, he puts on a real good show. He'll try anything to convince me to go out with him. You wouldn't believe his latest strategy."

Wyatt scooted his stool closer to the table. “Oh, you've got to tell me. This sounds good!"

She hesitated. She hadn't opened up to anyone about a personal matter since her father was elected mayor. A definite bond had formed between her and Wyatt since their great adventure at Sheriff Nagle's estate, and she felt certain she could trust her new friend with a secret. She also knew it'd feel awfully good to lift the veil of privacy and confide in someone again. Plus, wouldn't it'd also be extremely beneficial to gain an unbiased opinion and advice on the matter?

She soon found herself presenting Wyatt with a sketchy description of the situation. The shallow creek of information gradually turned into a mighty river, which contained elaborate and tearful details of her innermost feelings about life, loyalty, and the intricate relationship between man and woman, as well as parent and child. She had not intended to reveal her conflict with her father but as she continued to speak, her rusty ability to confide in a friend quickly rebounded, allowing hurt, anger, and fear to pour forth like water over a rocky falls. Wyatt silently listened, never interrupting with comments or advice, only nodding with a look of complete understanding. When the accumulation of emotions finished spilling from her heart, Wyatt handed her a tissue then patted her gently on the arm.

“Carly, I'm no psychologist, but let me offer some friendly advice that I think will help you with all of your problems. It's the same advice I've been giving you all along: Live your life as Carly Wright, not as the mayor's daughter or Boyd's girlfriend or as someone who's scared to death of what the media has to say about her. You don't have to prove anything to anybody. Even God accepts you just like you are. It's time you let yourself be that person.

“That's it. That's all the advice you need. Now, why don't you give Boyd a call and tell him you can't attend that chess tournament after all? Then we'll head over to Johnnie's so you can see how Rob's coming along on that promise of his. Isn't that really what Carly Wright's just dying to do?"

Blowing her nose, she nodded. “Yeah, but what if he sees me?"

“Then he sees you! So what? If Carly Wright wants to go to a nightclub and make sure a deputy's keeping his word, then that's what she should do. You need to live your life the same way you report the news: straightforward and honest with no regard to what other folks think about it. Besides, if Rob sees you checking up on him, it just might help him stick to his plan. A little hope and encouragement goes a long way."

She pulled her compact from her purse to check her eyes for running mascara. “But is it fair for me to expect him to stick to his plan? I'm still not sure exactly how I feel about him."

“Well, once you get reacquainted with the real Carly Wright, she can tell you. It may take her a few minutes to work up to it, but once she gets rolling, watch out!"

Carly laughed then looked humbly at her friend. “I'm sorry I went on and on like that, but it sure felt good to get it all off my shoulders. Thanks for listening and being a great friend. I'd forgotten how much I needed one."

“You're welcome,” he said with a slight bow. “Now, call Boyd real quick so we can get over to Johnnie's. And there'll be no sneaking in the back door this time. The Carly Wright I know would walk through the front door with her head held high."

Fifteen

Wyatt spotted Rob immediately. The rookie sat alone at the bar, staring miserably at the empty glass in front of him. With a look of kindred sympathy, Wyatt watched him a few more seconds before turning and heading back out the door. He scurried across the parking lot to report his findings to Carly, who refused to enter the nightclub unless he first investigated the situation. She had also made him promise to be honest with her if he witnessed Rob breaking his vow.

Approaching his vehicle, he could see her meticulously inspecting her make-up in the mirror for the third time since they arrived. When he tapped lightly on the window, she jumped with a start.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you,” he said when she opened the window. “Don't be nervous. Just take a deep breath and relax, okay? Everything's cool. Rob's sitting in there all alone and looks completely depressed. No, it's worse than depressed; he looks miserable. No, wait. It's even worse than miserable. I'd have to say he looks plum pitiful."

“Really?” she asked brightly.

“Yep. It's a sad sight. You better get in there quick and rescue the poor guy. And you look fine,” he added with a smile.

She smiled back appreciatively and slowly stood up after he opened the car door. “I hope I'm not making a huge mistake,” she said as they walked toward the front door of the nightclub.

“No, you've already done that. Now, you're doing the right thing.” Allowing her to walk past him, he gently nudged her toward the front steps.

When she reached the entrance, she froze and stared at the door. Wyatt waited with silent patience as she gathered her courage. When she suddenly spun around to run in the opposite direction, he blocked her escape.

“This is going to be too weird, Wyatt,” she explained as he held firmly onto her arm. “Robby and I have always played this cops and robbers game, where he chases after me and I run away yelling insults. I don't know what to say to him now. I'm still not sure I want him to catch me."

“You don't have to be sure of anything right now. You're only here to see if he's keeping his promise. That's all. There's no pressure, Carly. Just go in there and be yourself.” He hooked her hand onto the crook of his arm and held it firmly in place while pulling her through the swinging doors.

The moment the odd couple burst into the room, everyone, including Rob, looked up to see who was being thrown into the bar instead of out. While Rob's countenance lit up as bright as June sunshine at the sight of Carly, scowls appeared on many of the other patron's faces. A few boos and insults were even cast in her direction.

Wyatt lifted his head proudly while raising his eyebrows at Carly to do the same. When she complied, he escorted her royalty-style toward a table located directly behind where Rob used to be seated. The lonely deputy had made his way to meet Carly the second he saw her and didn't seem to notice that she was attached to a very large companion. Wyatt gently elbowed her in the ribs, giving her a reassuring smile when she looked up at him. Biting her lip nervously, she turned her attention to the off-duty deputy grinning brightly before her. “Hello, Deputy,” she greeted him in her usual sarcastic tone.

“Hello, gorgeous,” he answered low and long, still seemingly unaware of Wyatt's presence.

Carly rolled her eyes. “I believe you know Wyatt, don't you?” she asked, still griping her friend's arm tightly for support.

“Yeah. You're the one who trespassed on the sheriff's property with Carly, aren't you? How you doing, man?” he asked, shaking Wyatt's hand.

“Doing good. Doing real good since I've sworn off of listening to Carly's ideas. How are you?"

“Much better now,” Rob answered, smiling warmly at Carly. “So, what brings you two here?"

Carly contemplated making excuses but knew they would sound lame and completely unconvincing. She quickly decided to take Wyatt's advice to be honest and straightforward. “I came here to witness a miracle,” she stated with a smirk.

Rob nodded that he understood. “Well, you won't be disappointed. I can assure you of that."

Carly could've sworn the temperature in the room rose twenty degrees as she and the deputy exchanged weighty glances. Without warning or permission, Wyatt pried her hand from his arm. “I'll be right back,” he told her quietly. “I think I left my wallet in the car."

When she frowned threateningly, he gave her a sideward nod at Rob as if to say, “Go for it."

Rob appeared to be the only witness who understood the signal. “Let's dance while your buddy's gone,” he said, taking Carly by the hand and drawing her toward the dance floor.

Carly didn't protest but several other females in the room did, with jealous glares and catty remarks. As she moved to the upbeat music, she wondered if she'd ever have another friend in her hometown other than Wyatt and Robby. Remembering Wyatt's advice to be herself and not worry about the opinions of others, she took a deep breath and tried to relax, but the tenser than normal chemistry between her and Robby made it very difficult to feel at ease. The way he stared adoringly into her eyes brought on a shortness of breath that made her feel like a marathon runner competing in the Sahara Desert.

As soon as the song ended, she turned to look for Wyatt, but Robby quickly moved in front of her, blocking her view. “Before I made you the promise, I used to always get a hug from the girls that danced with me. Those days are over now, but what do ya say, Carly? Can we start a new tradition?” he asked, holding out his arms.

She rolled her eyes. “It wouldn't be a new tradition, now would it, Robby? It'd be the same ol’ tradition but with a different girl. A girl who sees right through your sneaky attempt at copping a feel. I guess they don't call y'all ‘cops’ for nothing!” Sidestepping the rejected deputy, she scanned the room for her escort.

Rob laughed, following her. “That sort of attitude is exactly why all the guys call you an ice queen. But I know better. You're not frigid. You just like to bide your time and keep the suspense going as long as you can. You like being mysterious, don't you, Carly? Well, that's okay, ‘cause as a cop, I just love a good mystery."

She continued to search for Wyatt as she spoke. “And what happens after the mystery's solved? You go out and find yourself a brand new one, right?"

“Wrong!” he answered, taking Carly by the arm and turning her towards him. “Not this time. This mystery won't ever be completely solved. I'll never figure out how one woman can make me do crazy things like commit myself to her before I've even gotten one lousy hug. And it's all for a woman who hates my profession, wants to bring down my boss, and rolls her eyes every time I tell her how I feel. There's no explaining something like that. I'll bet you can't even explain why you came here tonight, can you?

“I told you already,” she insisted, yanking her arm away. “I can here to witness the miracle. Well, I've seen it, and now I'm leaving."

He trailed her all the way out the door. “Oh, so you came here tonight to make fun of me, tease me a little, and then walk away again, is that it?” he accused angrily.

Carly stopped her flight and turned toward him. Never had he spoken to her in such a wounded tone. Just as she feared, their fun little game of chase had turned from amusing to afflicting. Robby's expression told her it was time to make a decision before she caused him to backtrack from the giant step he'd made in the right direction. Since she had no idea what to say, all she could do was hope the words magically came to her as she spoke. “I'm sorry, Robby. I promise you I didn't come here to hurt you. You were right about one thing. I can't explain why I'm here. But the fact is I am here. Maybe I don't know what to say or how to react other than the way I always have, but here I am ... Here we are..."

His grim expression softened considerably. “What are you saying, Carly?” he asked, inching closer to her.

“I have no idea. I'd better go see if Wyatt's okay."

Rob let out a frustrated growl that echoed over her head as she marched across the parking lot. She wanted to kick herself for fleeing from an uncomfortable situation. That's not what reporters do, she thought, walking along the line of cars where Wyatt had parked.

When she reached the end of the row, she turned around and retraced her steps, feeling even more humiliated for walking right past Wyatt's car. As she made her way back toward the nightclub, she glanced to see if Rob had gone inside, quickly looking away when her eyes met his piercing gaze. After carefully examining each vehicle and finding that none of them belonged to her friend, she shrugged humbly then strolled to the next row.

When she was forced to move along to the last row to search for her ride, she felt like a complete idiot for being so flustered she couldn't even remember where they had parked. By that time, a wide grin had broken out on Rob's face, and when she finally stalked back over to him, her body language encompassing the picture of anger, he couldn't keep from laughing out loud. “He went off and left you here, didn't he?” he asked, attempting to constrain his laughter.

“Yeah, and I'm going to kill him!” she stated through gritted teeth, standing with her arms crossed.

“And I'm going to shake his hand!” Rob declared with a howl. “Man, he never has to worry about getting a speeding ticket from me!"

Carly tapped her foot angrily on the concrete as Rob enjoyed the comic relief of the situation. Wyatt claimed to be her friend. How could he leave her there, knowing how confused she felt about this whole thing with Robby? Why would he pretend to care about her dilemma and then leave her stranded in the midst of it?

Fuming, she watched Robby wipe the mirthful tears from his eyes and continue to giggle intermittently when he looked at her seething expression. It wasn't long before a smile began to involuntarily form at the corners of her lips and short bursts of air escaped her nostrils from fighting to contain a snicker. “I can't believe he left me!” she said, finally releasing the pent-up laughter and grasping Rob's arm for support.

“Oh, I believe it. And I don't blame him one bit!” Rob teased, laughing along with her.

Carly crowed even louder, causing Rob to slip back into a fit of laughter. When the liberating giggling finally died down, they found themselves catching their breath and smiling at one another. “Well, I reckon you're in need of a ride, aren't you?” he asked with a wide grin.

“Yeah, I reckon I am..."

“Okay. I'll go back inside and see if there are any volunteers,” he kidded, turning towards the door.

She chuckled. “Well, I guess I'll start walking."

“Never,” he stated, turning back around. “As long as I have a car, you'll always have a way home. And as long as I have a lap, you'll always have a place to sit."

She rolled her eyes. “You just had to go and ruin it, didn't you, Robby?"

“I'm just stating the facts, ma'am,” he said, pulling out his keys and motioning for her to follow.

The ride from Johnnie's Hangout to her dorm rang out with a lively debate about Sheriff Nagle's virtues, or the lack thereof, depending on who was presenting their view at the time. Rob became furious when Carly admitted to visiting an inmate at the jailhouse, threatening to handcuff her to himself in order to keep her under constant watch. Carly rolled her eyes and continued to talk incessantly about the sheriff, her way of avoiding a conversation about the obvious and a good way of keeping her mind off the inevitable walk to the front door.

As soon as Rob parked his car next to the curb and quickly jumped out to open her door, she silently pledged to repay Wyatt ten fold for the uncomfortable predicament he forced upon her. After opening the door, Rob held out his hand, and she hesitated only briefly before allowing him to help her out of the car. Dropping his hand quickly as soon as she reached a standing position, she walked at a record pace toward the entrance of the dormitory. “Thanks for the ride. I'll see ya later, Robby,” she rattled off as fast as she could while reaching for the doorknob. The door refused to budge. Rob had placed his hand just above shoulder level and was leaning firmly against it with his face mere inches from the back of her head.

“You know ... You're the only person who's still allowed to call me Robby,” he stated softly, before inhaling the lingering scent of her shampoo.

Carly stood staring at her impenetrable escape. “Oh. Do you want me to call you Rob?” she asked casually, wishing her mind would stop racing.

“No way! ‘Robby’ sounds pretty good coming from you. Although, ‘oh, baby!’ would sound even better."

She let out a disgusted sigh and whirled to face him. “Are you ever going to stop using your pick-up lines on me? Haven't you figured out that they don't work on women who actually have brains? You've said a few things that lead me to believe there's a sincere, caring human being underneath that macho exterior. That's the Robby Coad I want!"

Carly knew her face exhibited extreme panic while his lit up brightly. “You want Robby Coad?” he asked with quiet amazement.

“I-I didn't mean it like that. I just want you to quit using your lines on me."

“They're not lines! I'm just expressing what's in my heart. Why don't you try it sometime? A nice word would sound awfully good coming from you every now and then. And when you say something nice, it'd be even nicer if you didn't turn around and try to deny you said it."

Carly nodded and looked humbly at the ground, unable to comprehend, much less express, what was in her jumbled up heart.

Rob titled his head to the side and she could feel him smile sweetly at her. “It's okay, Carly. I kind of like this little game we've been playing, too. But it's not enough for me anymore. I really want to find out if we can be as great together as I've always imagined we'd be. You can keep insulting me and rolling your eyes if that's what you want to do. But please just give me a shot. I'm not asking you to get my name tattooed across your arm. Not yet, anyway. Just give me a chance, okay?"

She continued to stare at the ground, the battle between logic and emotion waging within her. As a reporter, she was accustomed to taking the side of logic. However, when she slowly raised her eyes to meet Robby's expectant gaze, she found that her emotions had charged the battlefield. “Well, maybe we could go out on a trial basis or something,” she heard herself mutter.

Rob's eyes grew wide, and he stared at her uncomprehendingly. “Did I just hear you say you'd go out with me?"

“On a trial basis only,” she stated as if accused of perjury.

He frowned. “A trial basis? Dating is a trial basis."

“Yeah, I know. But after two years of this nonsense, your expectations are so high. I guess mine are, too, in a way. I think we should just go out casually for a while and see how it goes."

He released a frustrated sigh. “Man, I know you like to play hard to get, but you've turned it into an alternative lifestyle!"

“Who's playing? I am hard to get,” she stated proudly.

“Boy, don't I know it! So, how long is this trial basis thing going to last?"

“Why? Are you counting the minutes until you're back in circulation?"

“No! I'm counting the minutes until I can shout from the roof tops that Carly Wright is officially mine."

Looking away, she smiled shyly. “Well, it looks like we'll both be spending a lot of time counting minutes, then. Won't we, Deputy?"

It appeared to take him several seconds to realize that she had said something nice, as well as very promising. His face broke into a wide smile, and Carly expected him to throw himself at her at the first sign of encouragement. Surprisingly, he remained at an appropriate distance and spoke in a gentlemanly fashion. “Will you please give me the honor of having dinner with you tomorrow night, Ms. Wright?"

“I guess that would be okay, Deputy Coad,” she answered, shrugging and wondering why she was nodding so vigorously.

He smiled ecstatically for only a second. “Great! Well, I've got to go,” he said with a serious expression, quickly turning and walking toward his car.

Carly stood frozen in shock, watching the man who had pursued her relentlessly for two years bolt at the first sign of victory. Her fears appeared to be coming to life right before her very eyes, and she ran after him, the anticipated feelings of hurt and rejection developing much quicker than expected. “Hey, why are you leaving in such a hurry?” she asked irately, grabbing him by the forearm.

When he turned around, he was grinning devilishly. “I've got a date with Carly Wright tomorrow night. I've got to start getting ready!"

Carly's frown melted into a warm giggle, and she half-heartedly rolled her eyes. “You've had two years to get ready. I can't imagine what else you'd possibly have to do."

“I've got to go home and start praying. Praying I don't do something stupid and mess up the most awesome thing that's ever happened to me. That's what I've got to do!"

Her smile disappeared. “And I've got to pray that I can live up to this image you've had for so long. It's very intimidating, Robby."

“Don't worry,” he said softly, taking her hand. “You've already lived up to it. Anything more will be a bonus. I have a feeling my imagination's not capable of dreaming up how good it's going to be."

Carly stared at the sight of her hand resting in Deputy Robby Coad's. “This is all so weird. It's going to take a while to get used to being nice to you."

He laughed. “Well, don't go getting too nice to me. I hate to admit it, but I kind of like the abuse."

“I knew it,” she whispered playfully. “Well, I guess I'll see you tomorrow."

“Okay. I'll pick you up around seven. No, let's make it six-thirty. Wait! How about six? Aw, heck why don't I just stay the night and we'll—"

“Good night, Robby,” she said firmly, letting go of his hand and turning to walk back to the dorm.

“Night, Carly. I'll see you at six. Hey, thanks for finally giving me the time of day,” he shouted as she reached the door. “I'll try to give you the time of your life."

Rolling her eyes, she turned to wave. “Thank you, Wyatt,” she whispered as she watched him hop joyously into his vehicle and pull away.

Sixteen

Wyatt managed to successfully avoid Carly on the way to his morning classes, but as he walked to the cafeteria for lunch, he spotted her marching determinedly toward him. “Hey, Carly,” he said casually when she stopped in front of him.

“Hey, Carly? Is that all you have to say after deserting me last night?"

“Well, my intentions were good ... But, hey, wait ‘til I tell you—"

“No! I have something to say to you.” She took a menacing step closer to her cowering friend, who held up his hands.

“Now, wait just a minute. I have to tell you—"

“I don't want to hear your excuses, you defector. You will stand here and listen to what I have to say!"

“Okay,” he resigned, cringing in preparation for the inevitable tongue-lashing.

When she stepped forward, pointing her finger accusingly, her face forewarned danger. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she suddenly blurted out, surprising him with a playful smile and hugging him tightly.

“So I take it things went well with you and Rob, then?"

“Yeah, I'd say so. We're going out tonight."

“No kidding? That's great, Carly. I have a good feeling about the two of you. How'd Boyd take it?"

She looked away. “I haven't talked to him yet. I guess I'll do it this afternoon. It'd probably take him weeks to notice I wasn't coming around so I don't know why I'm even bothering."

“Because Carly Wright does the right thing, that's why. Don't worry. Boyd will be fine. He's got all those cyber chicks to keep him company. You know in your heart he wasn't right for you."

“Yeah, but I'm sure not looking forward to hurting him."

“Well, I've got some news that'll help take your mind off of that. I found someone who's willing to come forward about how he was victimized by Sheriff Nagle. He's agreed to grant us an interview for The Speerings."

Carly's mouth dropped open. “This had better not be another one of your practical jokes, Wyatt."

“No, I'm totally serious. I was researching through some archived news articles for my civics class and came across a piece about a guy named Aaron Miles. A few years ago, deputies stopped him for speeding and claimed to have found a huge amount of marijuana under the driver's seat. They arrested him and ended up confiscating his car. That same car now sets in Sheriff Nagle's garage! It's an awesome old Mach One in mint condition. Anyway, Aaron swore he was innocent and said that Sheriff Nagle only arrested him because he wanted his car. He said the sheriff hounded him for months about selling it, but he kept refusing. To this day, he stands by his story that the deputies planted those drugs in his car at the sheriff's command."

Carly shook her head and let out a laugh of disgust. “And I suppose nobody believes him."

“Not a soul. He's talked to the district attorney and every other lawyer in town. He's talked to the chief of police and even to your dad. Nobody will touch it. They don't believe his story, and even if they did, there's no way he can prove those drugs were planted. It doesn't help that he was caught with weed one time in high school."

“So why does he want to talk to us? What could we do to help?"

“He wants his car. He's willing to try anything to get it back."

“He's not afraid of taking a stand against the sheriff?"

“Nope. He's taken a stand all along, but no one will listen. Since you've been stirring things up lately, he's hoping someone will finally take notice and help him."

Carly nodded then turned thoughtful. “How in the world did Sheriff Nagle get away with keeping a confiscated car?"

“He bought it fair and square. At first, the sheriff's department took it around to the schools and used it in their anti-drug campaign. They wanted to show the kids how much they could lose by getting involved in drugs. After a couple of months, they put the car in the police auction. Sheriff Nagle placed the highest bid and took it home to add to his collection. I remember seeing it that day we paid him a visit. It's a real beauty."

Carly closed her eyes and shook her head. “No matter what the sheriff wants, he finds a way to get it, even if he has to ruin someone's life. This story just keeps getting better and better. So when are we going to interview Aaron?"

“Anytime you're available. I told him I'd give him a call to set up a meeting. How about tonight? No, wait. I forgot. You've got a sizzling hot date tonight for the first time in years. And who's responsible for that? Oh, yeah. I believe that would be me.” Wyatt took a bow, wearing an arrogant grin.

“Well, would you mind calling Boyd and telling him that you're totally responsible for my breaking up with him? It'll make my afternoon a lot more pleasant."

“Sorry, my friend, but you're going to have to handle that all on your own. It'll be a good learning experience for you. Hey, speaking of learning experiences. Did Professor McCoy say anything about your editorial?"

“Yeah. I got the usual lecture about responsible journalism. He also said I was damaging my credibility and hurting my chances of being hired by local stations or newspapers. I don't care. When I graduate, I'm moving to a real city to work for the real media. Who needs these podunk, small-time wannabes, anyway?"

Wyatt shrugged. “A little on-the-job experience couldn't hurt. But you've got to follow your heart on that one. Look, Carly, I know your dad hurt you and all, but maybe writing harsh editorials about the sheriff isn't the best way to get back at him. It just might hurt you more than it hurts him."

She looked down as she replied. “Well, I'll admit that I did write that first article to irritate my father, but that's not the case anymore. Ever since I started investigating the sheriff, I've turned up a lot of disturbing stories. Unfortunately, I haven't been able to find anyone who'll go public with theirs."

“Then shouldn't you wait until you have a real story? It'd be better than writing editorials that turn the town against you and hurt your credibility as a journalist."

“Man, you sound just like Professor McCoy! I do have real stories, Wyatt. I'm just being forced to write them as editorials right now. I know my articles aren't popular and won't win me any friends, but I can't just sit back and be silent. One day, when the truth finally comes out, folks are going to realize that I was right all along. Boy, is that going to feel good!"

“Especially when you can rub it in your dad's face, huh?"

She squinted angrily. “Yeah, that will be really satisfying. But that's not what this is all about. I thought you were on my side here. I thought you wanted to expose the sheriff as much as I do. What happened?"

“Nothing's happened. I am on your side. I just want to make sure we're on the same page as to why we're doing this."

“We are! I think the difference is that you're willing to sit back and wait, while I'm just not that patient. I'm hoping if we keep the public interested in this story, maybe someone with solid evidence will come forward. Or maybe someone with authority will investigate our claims and discover the truth. Wouldn't it be great to finally see justice prevail?"

“Yes, it would ... Look, Carly, I didn't mean to make you mad. I'm just trying to help, okay?"

“Yeah, I know. And you've helped more than you can imagine. There are just some things I have to do my way. Well, I'd better get to class. Let me know when Aaron can meet with us. Good job on getting that interview, by the way."

“Thanks!"

“And good job on abandoning me last night, too. I really appreciate it. Even though I am a nervous wreck about tonight."

“You'll be fine. Just make sure you take the real Carly Wright along with you, okay? That's the person Rob's so crazy about."

Smiling, she gave him another hug and a quick peck on the cheek. “Thanks, again. You're a good friend."

Wyatt grinned and blushed slightly. “Well, it's the least I could do after you saved me from the sheriff's bull."

“What? I didn't think you knew about that!"

“Jacob finally told me. He got sick of me bragging about out-running Ernie. I still owe you for that one. Big time!"

“Hey, that's what friends are for. Maybe you can save my life someday. You've already helped me get back the one I tossed aside. See ya, Wyatt."

“See ya, Carly. I'll say a prayer for you. For Boyd, too. And Rob ... Poor, poor Rob!"

She walked away laughing while shaking her fist in his direction.

* * * *

After Carly's last class of the day, she drove straight to Boyd's house and, as usual, found him working away at his computer. While he continued to type, she greeted him with the customary hug from behind then took a seat on the edge of his bed and waited for him to reach a satisfactory stopping point. When four minutes passed with no sign of his letting up, she slowly rose from the bed and walked over to him, holding his class ring in the palm of her hand in front of the screen. The sounds of computing ceased immediately. Boyd silently stared at the ring with the expression of someone attending the funeral of a loved one who'd been expected to pass for some time. “I'm sorry,” Carly managed to say when he finally took the ring from her hand and gazed down at it sadly.

He shrugged. “That's okay. I knew this day was coming sooner or later."

Kneeling down beside his chair, she looked up into his face. “Then why didn't you do something to stop it?"

“Like what?” he asked with a doubtful frown.

She let out a breath of frustration. “Like acknowledge my presence every now and then. Like pretend you were interested in my life and what I had to say. Like pay me a compliment every so often. Like—"

“Like any of that would've kept this from happening! You were only with me ‘cause I wasn't interested in going out much. Once you moved away from home, I knew it was only a matter of time ‘til you decided you didn't need me anymore. But, hey, I served my purpose, didn't I?"

“That's not true! I really like you, Boyd. I enjoy being with you on the rare occasion you decide to pay attention to me. If you felt like you were being used, why didn't you break up with me?"

“Are you kidding? Guys like me never get girls like you. I was the envy of every computer geek in Plitesville, and a few around the world. I scanned your picture into my computer and sent it out to all my on-line chess rivals. Nobody could believe a nerd like me could get a babe like you. I sure wasn't going to mess that up."

Carly hopped to her feet. “So basically, you're saying that you were using me! I was just a trophy for you to show off to your buddies! And you didn't even have to put any effort into the relationship."

He looked down at his keyboard. “I wouldn't know how to put effort into a relationship. My thing is computers. I can sit here all day and experiment with programs and play video games or even chat with somebody, and I still feel pretty good about myself. Computers may have a glitch every now and then, but I've always been able to figure out how to fix it or at least find a way around it. Now, women are another story! I don't understand them, and I always end up making things worse when I try. I say the wrong thing and do the wrong thing, so I figure I'm better off not saying or doing anything at all. It worked out just fine for a while. You stuck around a lot longer than I expected you would."

“Yeah, but you only wanted me to stick around so you could brag about it to your buddies! You know, I was dreading having to do this. I really didn't want to hurt you. I had no idea I'd be the one who got hurt."

As she stormed out the door, he followed. “Carly, wait a second."

She continued her silent flight with Boyd on her heels, explaining.

“Okay, so I did brag about you being my girlfriend, but that's not all there was to it. I like you a lot. I really do. But I knew there was no way we had a future together. It's so obvious that you're way out of my league. I knew you'd wise up and dump me one of these days so I just let things run their course. I guess I tried not to get too attached ‘cause I didn't want it to hurt so much when it ended. It wasn't fair to you, but I knew it was only a temporary situation anyway. I'm sorry."

Carly stopped at the front door and turned around. “I'm sorry, too. I will admit that at first I was interested in you mostly because you were a homebody like me. But once I got to know you, it turned into more than that. I was more than willing to give us a shot. It's too bad you weren't. You're a great guy, Boyd. There's no reason you can't get any girl you want. You need to stop being afraid of making mistakes and learn to be yourself around real people. The only way to do that is to get up from that desk and go out into the world and practice. A good friend of mine recently reminded me of that, and it's made a huge difference in my life already."

Looking at the floor, he nodded slowly and deliberately. “So who is it, Carly?” he accused quietly.

“Who is what?” she asked before his words had time to sink in.

“The guy you've gone out and practiced being yourself around."

Panic rose to her throat. “What makes you think there's somebody else?"

He lifted his gaze to meet her uneasy expression. “Why else would you suddenly dump me if you were so willing to give us a shot? You might as well go ahead and tell me. This is a small town. I'll probably hear about it before you get back to the dorm tonight. I'd rather it come from you."

She cleared her throat before taking a deep breath. “Robby Coad,” she finally admitted quietly, closing her eyes.

Boyd frowned and laughed at the same time. “Are you kidding me? Come on, Carly! Why would you go out with somebody like him? You think I used you? What do you think that smooth talker's going to do? He's going to try and talk you into doing all the things I told my chat room we were doing when my parents weren't home!"

As Carly's mouth fell open, he instantly flashed a look of fearful regret. “You jerk!” she shouted. “I can't believe you'd do something like that! Did you repeat that lie to anybody around here?"

“No,” he answered, shaking his head vigorously. “Nobody around here would believe it."

“Yeah, ‘cause I'm Plitesville's resident ice queen, right? And to think I came here to say I hope we can be still be friends! Now I'm finding out you were never really my friend at all. Goodbye, Boyd. Goodbye, Mrs. Dennison,” she said to Boyd's mother, who had emerged from the den at the sound of Carly's fury.

“Aw, Boyd,” his mother said disappointedly as Carly marched through the door and down the walkway. “Other than her crazy opinion of the sheriff, she was a real nice girl."

“Yeah, and I totally blew it,” he stated miserably, watching her slam her car door then burn rubber up the street.

“I hate men. Every last one of them,” Carly muttered to herself, speeding toward the dormitory to call Robby and cancel their date.

Seventeen

“No, Carly, you can't do this to me,” Rob pleaded into the phone. “I've been waiting years for this night."

“I'm sorry, Robby. I just don't feel like going out,” she said, nervously twisting the gold chain around her neck that once held Boyd's class ring.

“But I've already got the entire evening planned. It's going to be great; I promise. First, I'm taking you for a candlelit dinner at Russo's. Afterwards, I thought we could go for a walk along the trail down by the river. There's a full moon out so it ought to be an awesome sight. Then I've got to take you dancing at Johnnie's. I can't wait for the world to see me on a real date with Carly Wright."

She cringed. “Oh, just what I need. To be somebody else's trophy."

“What? Why do you sound so hostile again? I thought we made real progress last night. What happened to you today?"

Carly sighed then fell silent. A part of her wanted to hide away in her room forever to avoid becoming the victim of yet another delusive relationship. Another part wanted to run into Robby's strong arms and enjoy the comfort of open adoration and affection. She desperately wanted to believe that he didn't view her as merely an arm charm to be sported like a Rolex, but his past, along with her poor judgment, made it very difficult to retain her faith.

“Hello? Carly? Are you there?"

“Yeah, I'm here. Look, I just broke up with Boyd today and found out some things that kind of rattled me. I think I need to be alone and figure this out before I jump right into another relationship."

“But you're not jumping into a relationship. You're the one who said this is just a trial basis, remember? Let's go to dinner, and you can tell me all about this deal with Boyd. We'll get it sorted out, and then we'll forget about it and have fun the rest of the evening."

“I don't know. I'm kind of confused right now. See, it turns out that Boyd was just using me."

The phone receiver fell silent. When Robby finally spoke, his voice held an unfamiliarly quiet intenseness. “And just how did that freak of nature use you?"

“Not in the way you're thinking, Robby. I really don't want to talk about it. Can't we do this another time?"

“No! I've been waiting forever. Look, I'm not Boyd. Forget about him. I'm willing to listen if you want to talk about it. If you don't, that's fine, too. I'm coming to pick you up at six and we're going out tonight. This discussion is over!"

As she protested, a click and a dial tone interrupted her. She let out a frustrated sigh and then redialed Robby's phone number. Before punching the last digit, however, her finger stopped in midair. Hadn't it been extremely disappointing that Boyd wasn't willing to fight for their relationship? Wouldn't she have been thrilled if he'd asserted himself just once in order to show his feelings for her? Wasn't Robby's willingness to do anything to be with her a refreshing change of pace from Boyd's indifference and detachment?

Suddenly, she felt an unexpected smile creeping upon her lips. Slamming down the receiver, she charged up the dormitory stairs as fast as she could. Robby would be there in an hour and she had no idea what to wear! She spent the next fifteen minutes scrambling through her closet, wishing she'd spent the afternoon shopping for a new outfit rather than discovering how little she really knew about her ex-boyfriend. She finally decided on her favorite red dress that was short but not too short, and snug fitting but not too tight. After quickly refreshing her makeup and trying three different hairstyles, she finally released her ponytail and ruffled her hair with her fingers while running down the stairs promptly at six o'clock.

Robby was sitting on the sofa in the visitor's den, where he'd been tapping his fingertips together for ten agonizing minutes waiting for Carly to appear. As she hurriedly entered the room, he immediately rose from the sofa to meet her. “Wow,” he whispered, shaking his head and staring into her eyes. “You look amazing."

She ran her hand through her hair. “Thanks. You look very nice, too.” She saw Rob make note of her shaking hands and knew what would come next.

“Hey, baby,” he cooed, slipping his arm around her shoulder. “You must be from the islands, ‘cause Jamaican me crazy!"

Rolling her eyes, she pushed him away. “Don't start that so early in the evening! Honestly, you've got more lines than an actor in a one-man show. Do you really think that's the way to a woman's heart? How many times must we have this conversation? And while I have your attention, don't you ever hang up on me again!"

A smile broke out on Rob's face as she ranted yet became immediately at ease. “What do you say we go eat some grub together, Ms. Wright?” he asked, extending an arm.

“Sounds delightful,” she jeered, ignoring his bent arm and walking toward the door.

Rob snickered and followed her to his car.

They engaged in small talk and the usual disagreements about Sheriff Nagle during their thirty-minute drive through the pines to Russo's, a small, intimate restaurant in a neighboring town. Rob had called ahead and reserved their best table on the enclosed deck that overlooked a rocky stream. They enjoyed the sounds of nature and the taste of Italy as they ate their meals and chatted about everything except Boyd Dennison.

As they shared a desert, Carly stared out the window while Rob gazed adoringly at her. The faraway look on her face portrayed a mixture of disappointment and sadness that would've grieved even the hardest heart. Impulsively, he reached out and took her hand. “I sure hope I'm not the cause of that bummed look on your face."

She glanced at him then looked back out the window. “No, it's not you."

He squeezed her hand slightly. “Carly, we've known each other forever. I know it feels weird for us to be on a date together, but I'm still the same guy you confided in all those years. First of all, I'm your friend, and no matter what happens, I always will be. Now why don't you go ahead and tell me what that dweeb did to you?"

She looked at him thoughtfully. “Can you arrest someone for ruining a perfectly blueprinted break-up?"

“I don't know. Maybe. According to you, Sheriff Nagle's arrested folks for a lot less."

“Very funny,” she sneered. “Okay, here's the ridiculous story in a nutshell. Boyd assumed we had no future together so he stayed detached because he didn't want to get hurt. All the while, he's bragging to his Internet buddies about his hot girlfriend. He even gave them details about how we were fooling around. And nothing could be further from the truth. He hardly ever looked at me, much less touched me."

“What an idiot!” Rob stated with disbelief.

She pulled her hand away and crossed her arms. “Why is he an idiot? For lying about fooling around or because he didn't actually try it?"

“He's an idiot for losing you no matter how he did it. I'm going to try my best not to follow in his footsteps."

Her demeanor relaxed considerably. “I feel like the idiot. I don't know why I put up with his disinterest for so long. I guess it was the safest and easiest road to take."

“Well, I ought to a go over there and ring that little wussy's neck! Even if he was only lying to a bunch of European pencil-neck geeks. You just don't do that, especially to somebody you care about."

“That's the problem. He obviously didn't care at all. I would've bet a lot of money that I could totally trust Boyd. That just goes to show how wrong you can be about someone."

Rob nodded thoughtfully. “And you'd bet a lot of money that you can't trust me, wouldn't you? That's why you're so confused."

“I don't know what to think anymore. I can't even trust my own father these days. Everything used to be so much simpler."

“Yeah, and boring, too, I'll bet. Come on, Carly. Let's get out of here and finish this discussion on the way back to Plitesville. I can't do anything about Boyd or your daddy, but I sure can do my best to win your trust. All I need is the chance to prove myself to you."

Looking into his imploring blue eyes, she nodded. “Everybody deserves a chance, I guess,” she said against her will.

“Everybody except Sheriff Nagle?” he teased, pulling out her chair as she rose to her feet.

“I think it'd be in your best interest to let that particular subject lie, Deputy,” she stated equally as playful, walking toward the door.

After arriving back in Plitesville, Rob drove to a park by the Tennessee River. As he and Carly strolled along the bank, admiring the full moon reflecting on the rippling water, he told her a story entitled, “Super Cop Saves the Beautiful, Yet Bewildered Princess."

“Once upon a time there was a beautiful princess who left the king's castle in search of the precious jewels of freedom and truth. During her quest, she became entangled in the web of a giant spider known as The Press. The Press enticed her to stay and look around, promising that the jewel of truth was located somewhere deep within the intricate pattern of his web.

“While she searched for the priceless jewel, along came the evil computer technician. His main goal in life was to conquer the world by lulling its inhabitants to sleep with boring jargon before crippling them with carpal tunnel syndrome. He snatched the princess from the sticky web and whisked her off to his dark dungeon, where everything was painted a drab shade of gray. Somehow he managed to brainwash her into believing that he deserved to breathe the same air she breathed, and the princess felt safe, although restless, dwelling within the dungeon. She still longed to find the jewels but was afraid to face the ensnarement of the world outside.

“For years, a shadowy figure invaded her dreams with visions of gallantry and bravery unlike any mere mortal she had ever encountered. She found herself longing to find such a man, however she knew better than to mistake fantasy for reality. Somehow she convinced herself to appreciate the safety of the dungeon, as well as the security of the ever-present computer technician.

“One fateful day, when the princess grew tired of nothing but gray, she sneaked up the stairs of the dungeon and stared longingly at the colorful landscape spread out before her. After taking one step outside the door, she thought she saw movement within the deep woods that surrounded the dilapidated castle. For a brief moment, she could have sworn she saw a shadowy figure moving swiftly toward her, as if carried by the wind, and she strained to see the face of the hero who had only visited in her dreams.

“Suddenly, the dungeon door opened, and the evil computer tech looked out just in time to see the princess swept up on a white horse by the handsome stranger known as ‘Super Cop'. The evil computer tech watched helplessly as the princess and Super Cop rode off into the sunset with The Press following closely behind. The end."

When Carly's laughter subsided, she found herself asking a dangerous question. “So, what happens in these stories after the couple rides off into the sunset?"

Rob stopped walking and picked up a rock, skipping it along the top of the water. “I have no idea. But I'm willing to give it a try if you are."

She looked at him momentarily then picked up a small stone and attempted to make it skip as well. “How can you be so sure about us, Robby? This is just our first date."

“I can't really explain it,” he replied, showing her how to hold a rock in order to achieve the most skips. “As you know, I've been out with a lot of girls. But I've never felt like it was ever going anywhere. When I look at you, I see a future. I see our future."

She carefully watched him hurl the rock across the water. “And just how long have you been seeing our future?"

“I don't know exactly. It seems like forever. When you turned sixteen, I really started noticing you, but since I was five years older, it didn't seem right for me to ask you out. I knew your daddy would never go for it, anyway. I kept my eye on you, though. You just kept getting prettier and feistier as the days went on, and I could hardly wait for you to turn eighteen. I had no idea it'd take me two years to talk you into going out with me or I would've started sooner! I thought you'd feel the same way I did ‘cause I was so sure about us. Even before I really knew you, I knew you were the one."

Carly stared at the rock in her hand then turned her doubtful eyes toward him. “To how many other girls have you recited that same speech? How do I know these aren't just lines you're using to try to get me to go home with you?"

“I knew you'd think that, so I've come up with a plan. I've already made a pledge to myself, and I'll make one to you right here and now."

After pausing, he took a deep breath, forcing it out with one quick huff before raising his right hand. “I promise I will never take you to my apartment alone. I won't go up to your dorm room, and we sure won't be getting in the backseat of my car. I promise not to put myself in a situation where I'm tempted to try something that'll make you doubt my intentions.

“This is probably going to be the death of me ‘cause I want you more than any other woman I've ever seen in my life. But this is the only thing I can think of that'll convince you I'm not the big, bad wolf. Now I can't promise I'm going to be a perfect gentleman, but I'm going to give it my best shot. I think I've done a pretty good job so far, haven't I?"

“Yeah, you have ... Wow. I'm speechless. It should be interesting to see how long you can stick to this promise."

“Yeah, it'll be interesting to me, too. If you come up with another idea that won't make me as crazy, I'll be more than happy to try it."

She laughed as she successfully skipped a stone across the water three times. “No, I think that under the circumstances your plan is the best one. If you can stick to it, I'll be one hundred percent convinced that you're sincere. Just don't go getting too carried away and start acting like Boyd, okay?"

Immediately dropping the rock, he took both of her hands into his. “Don't you worry about that. It's going to take every ounce of strength I have to keep my hands off you when we're in public, much less when we're all alone."

“Oh, so I shouldn't cancel those karate lessons I signed up for when I agreed to go out with you?"

He pulled her closer to him. “Baby, once you get a taste of this Super Cop's loving, I just might have to fight you off!"

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I'm sure you'd put up a real big fight, Deputy."

“Of course I would! And if you didn't cease and desist, I'd have to wrestle you to the ground and frisk you. Okay, this conversation isn't headed in a direction that'll help me keep my word. What do you say we get out of here and go hit the dance floor at Johnnie's? Surely you'll slow dance with me now that we're dating."

“On a trial basis only,” she stated firmly as they walked hand-in-hand toward his car.

“You and that trial basis! I've never heard of such nonsense in all of my life. Accused criminals go on trial. Am I a criminal, Carly? What exactly are the charges?"

“Being a smooth-talking womanizer, who actually enjoys working for Sheriff Nagle."

“Okay, guilty as charged,” he said, opening her door. “If I have to go on trial to make you see that neither of those charges have anything to do with us, then all right. Take as much time as you need. But be prepared to be proven wrong!"

Every patron at Johnnie's Hangout watched with amazement as Sheriff Nagle's deputy walked into the nightclub holding hands with “Chilly Wright". Small discussions broke out among groups and exclamations of surprised filled the room, but Rob marched on with his head held high.

“Yo, Rob,” a regular customer shouted from across the bar. “How much ransom are you asking the mayor for?"

As the room filled with laughter, Rob grinned from ear to ear. “Naw, man! I'd pay him!” he announced, smiling proudly at Carly.

She returned the smile as he walked her straight over to where two off-duty deputies were seated at the bar. As Rob introduced his date, they smiled politely and shook her hand, but as he led her toward the dance floor, one of the men voiced his thoughts a little too loudly. “Talk about sleeping with the enemy!"

Rob immediately made a U-turn. “What'd you say, Haywood?” he hissed with jaws clinching.

“Just stating the facts, dude,” Phil Haywood answered, staring at the glass in front of him.

Rob drew closer to the deputy who refused to meet his gaze. “No, you're being a jerk! And you're assuming things you know nothing about. If you felt this way, why'd you agree to help me keep my promise to her?"

“Well, I never dreamed in a million years she'd actually go out with you! You better watch your back, Rob. She's probably just after some information for that college rag she writes for."

Rob looked as though protest might form on his lips, but he remained silent and turned toward Carly, bearing a questioning expression. When she shook her head at him with a creased brow, he immediately nodded and smiled with relief before turning his attention back to his cohort. “You're dead wrong, my friend. And I believe you owe Carly an apology for speaking about her in such a disrespectful manner."

“No. She owes us an apology for writing disrespectful things about our boss. And you owe us an apology for taking sides with that lying, little vulture."

Right before Rob could grab Haywood's shirt collar, Carly stepped forward and took him by the arm. “Hey, I thought we came here to dance,” she said, nervously looking back and forth between the two agitated cops.

Realizing that a slow song played through the speakers, Rob instantly dropped his hand. “We'll discuss this at a later date,” he promised his inebriated friend before leading Carly to the dance floor. When he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close, she turned into a human ball of tenseness. And even though she rested her hands lightly on his shoulders, she would not look into his eyes. “Sorry about Haywood,” he whispered as they swayed to the music.

“That's okay. I'm used to it,” she said, glancing at him briefly but unable to meet his adoring gaze for more than a moment. The only time she recalled seeing such an idolizing gape was the time Boyd had been totally engrossed in an on-line article about Bill Gates.

Surely Robby could tell how uncomfortable his intent stare was making her. She glanced up at him every so often but quickly looked away again, struggling to conceal the expression of discomfort on her face. How long of a song was this, anyway? It had to end soon. Why didn't Robby toss out one of his trusty pick-up lines to lighten the mood? He knew she only felt comfortable when they engaged in verbal sparring. But it wouldn't be fair to cut him down to size without proper cause. Why was he doing this to her?

He looked as though he'd been rendered speechless. Kind of like a child on Christmas morning, mesmerized by the wondrous reality of a highly anticipated moment. Maybe he just didn't want to tarnish the memory of their first slow dance together. But he needed to do something and do it quickly. The least he could do was to quit looking at her like that. If it didn't stop soon, she feared she'd be out the door and running down the street like a fleeing criminal. Okay, calm down, Carly. It'll be fine. Just take a deep breath and give him a cold stare. Maybe that'll do the trick.

Putting on her iciest glare, she allowed her eyes to meet his and remain there. Within seconds his rapt stare turned into the encouraging smile of a friend. Her artic gaze froze on his lips momentarily before her own broke out in sheepish grin without her permission. At the sight of her smile, Rob laughed out loud with the sound of sheer joy and pulled her even closer to him. Burying her face in his broad chest, she giggled at the strange silliness of the situation. There they were, two opposite and opinionated individuals who should've despised one another. And yet they'd been friends for years and were now racing down the road to romance with no red lights in sight.

When she finally managed to constrain her amusement and raised her head to look at him, she saw that his countenance had returned to the serious adoration that caused her heart to skip beats and her body to become rigid. As she stared into the deep blue sea of devotion, her heart continued to pound, but she refused to allow herself to become tense once again. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she rested her forehead against his chin and closed her eyes, allowing herself to enjoy the newness of his touch and smell, and the excitement of unexplored possibilities.

When the music ended, he squeezed her tightly and she cautiously returned the gesture. Leading her to a booth, he slid in closely beside her, placing his arm atop the ledge behind her shoulders and hanging on her every word.

During the course of the night, he unapologetically turn down four separate offers to dance with available females, each of whom expressed shock and dismay to learn that he was on an actual date with only one woman. Giving Carly a look of scorn and Rob a look of disbelief, they retreated back to their lonely barstools, bemoaning the fact that the one really good dancer in Plitesville had removed himself from the market for a standoffish prude. Carly hated to admit it, but she felt a twinge of pride in being the one with whom Rob had chosen to spend an entire evening. As the date progressed without a sign that he regretted his decision, she found herself gazing at him with wonder instead of edginess.

Around one o'clock, he reluctantly drove her back to the dorm. After walking her to the door, he took charge of the conversation without balking. “So, Carly,” he began casually. “Does dating on a trial basis include a goodnight kiss?"

Unconsciously pressing her lips together, she shrugged. “I don't know. I've never dated anyone on a trial basis before."

He smiled with a look of victory. “Oh. Then I guess it's up to us to set the rules. What do you say we take a vote? All in favor of a goodnight kiss raise your hand."

Quickly and enthusiastically he lifted his hand, waiting with an eager expression for her to cast her ballot. She silently stared at his hand, swallowing hard and shifting nervously from one foot to the other. Dropping her gaze to the ground, she frowned as if in deep thought while nibbling on her thumbnail. “Well, it's not like we've just met and don't really know each other,” she mumbled, rationalizing with herself.

After long deliberation, she finally lifted her gaze to meet his, removing her thumbnail from her mouth and ever so slowly easing her hand in the air. Rob didn't wait for her to change her mind. Lunging toward her, he reached out and gently held her face in his hands, staring into her eyes as if the mere thought of kissing her was one of life's greatest marvels. Drawing his face close to hers, their lips meeting at long last, Carly remained frozen with one hand at her side and the other still raised in the air. When she could focus on the warmth of the kiss instead of her self-consciousness, both of her hands found their way to the back of his neck, and he pulled her even closer to him, wrapping his arms around her waist.

Carly knew that he was an experienced kisser with years and years of practice to his credit, but the depth of his talent surprised and amazed her. Never had a kiss felt so honest yet so mysterious, so comforting yet so affecting. And not only because Robby possessed a gold medal in the event, but because the kiss itself hung heavy with deep meaning and emotion, as well as a promise of great things to follow.

The lengthy and fiery kiss was interrupted when two students arrived back at the dorm, unable to suppress their surprise over the mayor's daughter's public display of affection. Carly immediately dropped her hands and took two steps backward as the young women entered the dorm whispering loudly to one another and looking back with features expressing pure astonishment. She knew the scene would've been shocking enough had the male participant turned out to be her unaffectionate ex-boyfriend. She completely understood why the girls had taken a moment to stare openmouthed at the sight of the abominable snowwoman affixed to Deputy “Hotty” Coad.

Rob stood frozen to the ground, his mouth hanging slightly opened and staring foggy-eyed at her. “Whoa,” he whispered hoarsely when they were alone once again. “That was some kiss! And now I'm supposed to just say goodnight and leave?"

The disbelief in his tone made her snicker. “Yeah, I'm afraid so."

“Man! This is going to be even tougher than I imagined. Well, I did make you that promise, and I'm sure not going to break it—especially on our first date. Good night, Carly. I'll give you a call in the morning and we can talk about what we're doing tomorrow night."

“I never said I was going out with you tomorrow night!"

Rob strolled towards her, taking her back into his arms. “Your kiss said it all, baby. It had a language all its own. And believe me; I don't need no translator!"

She rolled her eyes. “No, what you need is a surgeon."

“A surgeon?” he asked with a playful frown.

“Yeah, to remove those lame, worn-out lines from your vocabulary. They're interfering with your ability to have a meaningful relationship."

He laughed good-naturedly. “Well, maybe I should quit talking all together, then,” he suggested softly, leaning toward her for another kiss without taking a vote and discovering that she was in favor of the motion.

When the shorter, gentler kiss ended, he stood motionless with his eyes still closed. “Baby, call 9-1-1. I am on fire!"

“You are 9-1-1,” she reminded him, wiggling out of his arms.

“Oh, yeah. Well, I guess I'll just have to take care of myself, then."

“Yep, I guess you will,” she said with a mischievous grin, turning and walking toward the door. “I really did have a good time tonight, Robby. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

“Good night, Carly,” he said forlornly, walking backward toward his car. He stopped momentarily and stared at her with an expression of sudden realization. With the spring returning to his step, he turned and strolled down the walkway wearing a wide smile and voicing his thoughts aloud. “I finally went out with Carly Wright! I kissed Carly Wright, twice! I'm going out with Carly Wright again tomorrow night! Man, I rule!"

Carly rolled her eyes, all the while laughing as she walked into the dormitory entrance and climbed the stairs, carrying a light heart filled with renewed hope.

Eighteen

Mere days after Rob's first date with Carly, Plitesville buzzed with gossip about her sudden break-up with the computer whiz immediately followed by a public lip-lock with the promiscuous Deputy Coad. The general consensus was that the mayor had finally lost his ironhanded grip and his daughter had boarded the train of freedom, heading full-speed toward the tunnel of self-destruction.

When the mayor's secretary relayed the rumor to him, the color drained from his face, and he asked her to leave his office immediately. While quickly phoning his contact at the sheriff's department, he prayed the ugly rumor would not be confirmed. Carly's irresponsible news reports in The Speerings were given full credit for his gradual drop in the approval ratings poll. The very last thing he needed was a personal scandal adding to the nightmare.

He'd been inundated with phone calls all morning from angry and concerned citizens about his daughter's latest interview. How dare she give press coverage to a ne'er-do-well that claimed Sheriff Nagle imprisoned him on false charges merely to confiscate his classic Mustang?

As voter's other questions and concerns echoed through his head, Mayor Wright's informer came on the line and shattered the haunting voices with more horrific news. Deputy Coad had indeed arrived at work via Cloud Nine after his first date with none other than Carly Wright! The mayor immediately closed his eyes, his brain filling with violent images involving his fist and the macho young rookie's face. After convincing himself that charges of assault on a police deputy would definitely guarantee a swift impeachment, he dialed the extension of his public relation's department and called yet another emergency meeting.

The mayor was not the only person affected by Carly's shocking interview. Doral College's receptionist forwarded countless phone calls, letters, and emails from enraged citizens to Professor McCoy. Politely and diplomatically, he informed each irate contact that Carly was merely exercising her first amendment right, but he would do everything he could to encourage her to pursue another subject. As he made each pledge, he knew his efforts would be a waste of time. Even the new and improved Carly Wright could not be dissuaded from following her instincts, no matter how unpopular or dangerous the situation became. His only hope was to appeal to her sense of pride at being a competent and hirable journalist, but chances were slim that even this approach would be successful.

Carly confirmed his suspicion that very afternoon when she openly refused to follow his advice. After accusing him of selling out to public opinion, she adamantly denied his theory that her hostility toward the sheriff was transference of feelings toward her father. Announcing that the subject was closed to further discussion, she stormed out of his office and headed back to the dormitory.

* * * *

As soon as Carly walked through the door, she was handed a thick stack of phone messages and was informed that a visitor waited for her in the den. Easing slowly into the room and expecting the worst, she was relieved to find Robby standing by the barren fireplace looking very handsome in his police uniform. She rushed to meet him, bearing a smile and a hug, but his solemn expression and body language told her his visit was not of a festive nature. Her embrace brought a smile to his lips, however, and he held her closely to him for a full minute as if attempting to make up for lost time. After he kissed her tenderly then finally released her, she looked up at him with humble eyes. “So, I guess you're here to gripe at me, too,” she stated with resignation.

Shaking his head, he watched her thumb through the wad of stinging phone messages. “Well, I've got every right to gripe at you for hanging out with an ex-con and not telling me about it, but I figure you've got enough problems right now. Have you seen The Sentry?” he asked, holding up a copy of Plitesville's newspaper.

“Not yet. I've been too busy being preached at by Professor McCoy. What's it say?"

He pulled the newspaper out of her reach. “Man, I really don't want to be the messenger of this bad news. I'll end up dead for sure! Let's just forget I brought it up and make out on the sofa instead.” Falling onto the seat, he pulled Carly down next to him.

As he softly nibbled the side of her neck, she set her phone messages aside and reached for the newspaper he held behind his back. He retained his death-grip and continued to lavish kisses on her while she struggled to pry The Sentry from his hand. Laughter quickly ensued as they playfully wrestled on the sofa, neither of them aware that another guest had entered the room.

When his lips found their way to hers, she took the opportunity to divert his attention with a tease from her tongue while throwing her arms around him tightly. As soon as he reciprocated in kind, she grabbed the newspaper that had been quickly tossed aside and held on to it firmly, enjoying the moment far too much to declare victory just yet.

When the spirited kiss ended, Rob's eye's popped open. “I knew you weren't an ice queen,” he whispered proudly before whipping around to search for the pursued periodical. From the corner of his eye, he finally spotted the looming figure standing just inside the doorway and he quickly sprung to his feet.

Carly gasped and also jumped to her feet, staring wide-eyed at her father, who glared at the couple with clinched jaws and fists.

“Hey, Mayor Wright. How's it going, sir?” Rob asked with a surprising amount of composure, walking toward him and smoothing his crumpled shirt before holding out his hand.

The mayor regarded Rob's hand with unmasked abhorrence. “You keep that and everything else off my daughter or it'll be your badge! You hear me, deputy?” he asked through gritted teeth, obviously too enraged to portray the pleasant politician.

“Yes, sir,” Rob stated quickly, dropping his hand and standing at attention.

Carly stalked toward her father. “You have no right to threaten him like that! I'm not a little girl anymore. I don't need you to protect me."

Mayor Wright crossed his arms in front of him. “Oh, really? So you're telling me you've openly chosen to become the next notch on this creep's bedpost?"

She opened her mouth to protest, but Rob quickly stepped in. “Excuse me, sir, but I would never take advantage of your daughter. She means a lot more to me than that."

Mayor Wright scoffed. “Spare me the gentlemanly theatrics, Rob. Your reputation is very well known in this town. You're only interested in one thing, and from what I just witnessed, you were well on your way to getting it!"

“Dad!” Carly said with indignant disbelief.

“It's okay, Carly,” Rob stated humbly. “Your father has every right to be wary of me. You were wary yourself for two years, remember? I don't expect to gain his trust overnight. It'll take time, just like it did with you."

Mayor Wright took another step toward him. “I will never trust you with my daughter! Now, I'm not asking you; I'm telling you. Leave right this minute and don't ever come back!"

“I'm sorry, sir, but I just can't do that. I have very strong feelings for Carly."

Carly stepped forward and grasped Rob's arm with both hands. “Not to mention that I'm an adult and living on my own now. You can't run my life anymore, Dad."

“Maybe not. But I can sure try and keep you from making a huge mistake and ruining it!"

“Ruining my life or your political career?” she asked bitterly.

“Oh, you've got plenty of other ways to do that!” Mayor Wright spat, pointing at the newspaper in her hand.

Rob glanced at her with concern before addressing her father. “With all due respect, Mayor, you can't blame Carly for that. It's just an editorial written by some ol’ hag who's jealous of her. She feels threatened ‘cause she knows Carly will probably be replacing her in the near future."

“What are y'all talking about?” Carly asked, flipping open the paper and spotting the article before either man could answer. Rob placed his hand encouragingly on her shoulder as she scanned the editorial, entitled “The Mayor May Be Wright, But His Daughter Sure Ain't!"

Jackie Balsey, the local writer known for her witty, down-to-earth editorials, had gone to work that very afternoon, penning a cutting piece to address the hot topic of the day. She condemned Carly's assault on the sheriff, calling it “a witch-hunt where the only witch was the hunter” while dubbing Carly's journalistic style as “trite, empty-headed, sensationalism with nothing sensational about it". She claimed that Carly's lack of originality had caused her to dig up an old story that had died a quick death the first time around and was doing nothing more than stinking up the place with its vile odor of vengeance.

Jackie called Carly a hypocrite who played the part of a saint yet exhibited all the signs of a she-devil. She painted a word picture of Carly wearing a pure white flowing robe that covered a bright red leotard. Pointing her invisible pitchfork at Sheriff Nagle, the imposter was actually the leader of a battalion of criminals whose main goal was to avenge their arrests.

Jackie went on to question Carly's sudden interest in a deputy sheriff, saying that love was truly blind or else the police academy had implemented a brain-optional policy.

Jackie had previously avoided the subject of Carly Wright due to her friendship with the mayor. However, as more and more readers referenced Carly and her articles in their letters to the editor, Jackie had apparently decided that she could not miss out on the story of the year.

“You want to know my favorite part?” the mayor finally asked Carly, who fought to blink back tears. “I just loved it when Jackie questioned my ability to run the city when I can't even keep my own snot-nosed kid in line! And when she said she hoped you didn't inherit your tendency lie and consort with criminals from me—that really made my heart swell with pride!"

Carly continued to stare at the editorial, her worst nightmare coming to life right before her very eyes. Not only had her journalistic skills been publicly denounced, but the swift, blazing strokes of Jackie's bloodthirsty pen had cast her already tattered relationship with her father into the fiery furnace.

Carly couldn't bring herself to meet his fierce glare. “I'm so sorry, Dad,” she said barely above a whisper, staring at the floor and leaning into Rob's tender touch.

“Well, that's all fine and good, but what are you going to do about it?” the mayor yelled, eyeing Rob's hand on Carly's shoulder as if it were a venomous snake.

“I don't know,” she stated quietly.

“Well, I'll tell you what you're going to do about it!” her father said, pointing an angry finger. “You're going to write an apology for all your ridiculous accusations, and I'm going to make sure The Sentry prints it. You're going to pack your things and move back home where I can keep an eye on you. You're going to stay away from this lecher, and you're never going to mention Sheriff Nagle in one your little articles again! Things are going right back to the way they were before."

“No, sir, I don't think so,” Rob stated calmly, meeting the mayor's savage glare.

“You stay out of this!” Mayor Wright commanded threateningly. “This had nothing to do with you!"

“If it concerns Carly, it has everything to do with me. I was mentioned in that editorial, too, you know. That heifer made it sound like Carly was only using me to get inside information about the sheriff, and she called me a brainless idiot for not realizing it. It sure isn't Carly's fault, though. She can't control other people's opinions. And nobody should try to control hers either. I'm not about to stand here and ask her to turn her back on who she is just because some mean, ol’ battle-ax wrote something bad about me. Nobody has the right to ask her to do that. And nobody has the right to keep her away from me."

“I'm her father! I'm still paying her way and that gives me every right!” the mayor screamed at the unwaveringly composed deputy.

Tears streamed down Carly's face. “I'll get a job and pay you back, Dad. For everything!"

The mayor's face displayed instant regret and his tone took on the smoothness of a polished speechmaker. “This isn't about money, Carly. It's about the responsibility that comes with being in the public eye. I know you had no say-so in the matter, but the fact remains that this is the hand you've been dealt. You're just going to have to learn to live with it. One day you'll realize that we all have to make sacrifices for the things that are truly important."

“Maybe that's where I'm so confused,” she stated sadly. “What is it that's truly important, Dad?"

The mayor dropped his indignant gaze to the floor and remained silent. Carly kept her dispirited eyes upon him but knew his pride and political aspirations would not allow him to admit his misjudgment to himself, much less to her.

After only a few seconds, he looked back up at her. “Carly, why don't you run along upstairs and pack your things? I'll take you home where you belong. Your mother misses you terribly."

Carly wiped away her tears and shook her head. “I'm staying right here,” she announced, turning and wrapping her arms around Rob's waist.

Mayor Wright's nostrils flared as he looked into his daughter's determined eyes. “Well, we'll just see about that!” he snapped, crossing his arms and staring at her threateningly.

Carly stood her ground. She knew full well that between the watchful eye of the public and the powerful force that was her mother, his vague threat rang as hollow as ninety percent of his campaign promises. Not only would forcing her to move back home be viewed as a blatant abuse of power, but any action he took against Rob Coad—who held an impeccable record as a police deputy—would destroy all chances of his being reelected.

Within moments his expression of wrath melted into one of complete helplessness, and he shot Rob another murderous look before striding out the door.

Carly buried her head in Rob's chest and squeezed her eyes tightly shut, fighting to keep the heavy storm cloud of teardrops from bursting. When her diligent effort failed, her stroked her hair tenderly, whispering gentle words of encouragement. Carly knew he was fully aware that dating her posed a risk to his own career as well, however his deep feelings for her evidently overrode all fear and misgivings. Why couldn't her father show the same level of loyalty to his own daughter?

Looking at his watch, Rob grimaced as he spoke. “Baby, I'm sorry, but I've got to get to work. I hate that I'm stuck on this evening shift right here after we've just started going out, but it's only for a few days. I promise I'll call you every chance I get. Are you going to be okay?"

“Yeah, I'll be fine,” she assured him, forcing a weak smile. “I'm just sorry you had to witness all of this. And I apologize for my dad treating you like he did."

“Don't worry about me. He'll eventually see that I wouldn't hurt you for the world. I just wish he wouldn't hurt you."

Carly sighed heavily. “I guess he doesn't really mean to do it. He's just got his sights set on his dream, and he can't see what it's doing to other people. Looks like I get it honest,” she stated with stark realization.

“You're not like your father. He's strictly looking out for himself and his career. You care about people. That's why you go around trying to warn them about things you think pose a threat. Now maybe you're guilty of imagining danger where there's not any, but you're sure not out just to make a name for yourself. Forget about what your father and that ol’ biddy said about you. Stick to your guns. I don't agree with your opinion of Sheriff Nagle either, but I'll stand up and defend your right to have it and write about it ‘til the day I die."

She smiled up at him as he gently wiped away the single teardrop that ran down her cheek. “Thank you,” she whispered with amazement. “What in the world was I thinking turning you down for two whole years?"

“I tried to tell you,” he stated with a grin. “Does this mean the trial basis is over already?"

After thinking a moment, she shook her head. “Not just yet. It's as much to protect you, as it is to protect me. You may just be the one to change your mind."

“Never,” he whispered, kissing her forehead. “You're the icing on my cupcake, baby. You're the dip on my chip. You're the—"

“You're late for work,” she said, rolling her eyes and turning him toward the door.

He spun back around quickly, wrapping his arms around her and planting a deep kiss on her lips. “That ought to hold you ‘til I see you again,” he said with a proud grin.

“Yeah, but will it hold you?"

He smiled reassuringly. “Don't worry, baby. You're the only woman I've got in my sights. You call my cell phone if you need me, okay?"

She nodded with an appreciative smile. “You be careful out there."

Giving her a wink, he brushed his hand gently against her cheek before walking out the door to report directly to Sheriff Nagle's office as ordered.

Nineteen

Rob had no idea what to expect as he entered the sheriff's office and took a seat facing the huge desk. Sheriff Nagle regarded the nervous rookie with an amused smile before holding up his copy of The Plitesville Sentry and getting right to the point. “Sounds like you had an exciting weekend, deputy,” he stated gruffly.

“Yes, sir!” Rob said with a nod. “Probably my best ever."

“I'll bet,” the sheriff said with raised eyebrows. “That Carly Wright's something else, isn't she?"

“Yes, sir!” Rob stated enthusiastically, unable to contain his smile.

The sheriff nodded slowly and thoughtfully. “Well, son, I know how you like the ladies, and I can sure relate ‘cause I like them, too. But do you really think it's a good idea to be messing around with one that has it in for your boss? Not to mention, she's the mayor's daughter, for Pete's sake!"

Rob frowned. “No, sir, you've got it all wrong. I have nothing but respect for the mayor and his daughter. This is a whole different ballgame altogether. I'm not just in it for a good time. I'm in it to win."

“Oh ... So you're telling me you haven't hit that homer yet, huh?” the sheriff asked with a sly grin.

Rob's face turned to stone. “Pardon me for saying so, sir, but that question is highly inappropriate and disrespectful to Carly. Not to mention, none of your business."

The sheriff squinted at him. “You really have got it bad for her, don't you, kid? It doesn't bother you that she'd like to see me get fired from my job and thrown in jail with the criminals?"

“Yes, sir, it bothers me very much. But she has a mind of her own, and men like my daddy have gone off to war to protect her right to voice her opinion loud and long if that's what she chooses to do."

Sheriff Nagle scoffed. “Well, I'm not so sure your daddy went off to war so a know-it-all college kid could take sides with the criminals and try to undermine all my hard work. Look, Rob, I can't tell you what to do on your own time, but I can offer you some advice. Be very careful what you say around Carly Wright. She's got a way of twisting things around to fit her own agenda. And try to keep a low profile when you're out with her. It's one thing for her to form an opinion all on her own. It's quite another for the public to think she's pumping you for information. If you'll pardon the expression."

Rob didn't return the sheriff's devilish grin. “Sir, I'd appreciate it if you'd refrain from making suggestive remarks like that in regards to Carly."

The sheriff shook his head at the smitten young deputy. “What has she done to you, man? Since when did you become Mr. Manners? I can remember a time not so long ago when you'd come in here and share every last detail of your romps with anybody who'd listen."

“Things have a way of changing sometimes, sir,” Rob stated with a far-away look in his eyes.

“Well, just make sure your work ethic and loyalty to this department don't go changing!"

“No, sir. Never, sir!"

“And I'm sure I don't have to remind you to keep all classified information to yourself, do I, Deputy?"

“No, sir. I would never share classified information with any civilian."

“Not even if that civilian has dark, come-hither eyes and a firm little body that just won't quit?"

Rob's nostrils flared wildly like Sheriff Nagle's Brahma bull. “With all due respect, sir, I don't imagine the mayor would appreciate the fact that you've taken such notice of his daughter. I know I don't!"

Sheriff Nagle laughed heartily. “Rob, my boy, I hate to be the one to break it to you, but there ain't one red-blooded male in this town that hasn't admired your girlfriend's figure at one time or another. We've all got eyes in our heads just like you do. You better get used to it or you're going to end up getting into a lot of fights, which could lead to losing your badge."

“Yes, sir,” Rob said humbly.

“All right, Deputy, you're free to go. Let's just try and keep ourselves out of the gossip columns from now on, okay? Your girlfriend's little articles are giving us all the publicity we need right now."

“Yes, sir,” Rob said, standing to his feet. “But before I go, I'd just like to say that Carly really doesn't mean any harm. Her intentions are good. She's just been listening to the wrong people, that's all."

Sheriff Nagle leaned back in his large chair and chewed thoughtfully on the tip of a cigar. “I never said Carly's articles were giving us bad publicity. In fact, the polls show that my popularity has risen to an all-time high since she took such an interest in me. It's too bad we can't say the same about her poor ol’ daddy.

“Anyway, my concern is strictly for this department and for you. We have to make sure the people have faith in us. I'm afraid we may lose some of their trust if we're seen consorting with the enemy. Now, you and I both know that Carly's not our enemy, but that's how the public views her. How are they going to feel about a deputy who's running all over town with a girl who's conducting interviews with ex-cons and making us out to be the bad guys? Do you think they'll really believe you have their best interests at heart?"

Rob frowned deeply. “I hadn't thought of that,” he said quietly.

“Yeah, men's brains don't seem to function properly when there's a good-looking woman involved. Now I'm not going to sit here and tell you to stop seeing Carly. Heaven knows if I was in your shoes, nothing could keep me away from her. I just want you to be aware that you may come up against some hostile folks who view you as a turncoat. If that happens, I expect you to keep your head on straight. Or at least make sure there are no witnesses present!"

“Excuse me, sir?” Rob said with a frown.

“That was a joke, Deputy Do-right! Now, get on out of here and get to work. And good luck with Carly. Man, are you going to need it!"

“Thank you, sir,” Rob said with a nod as he turned and walked out the door, letting out a sign of relief.

“Lucky, little bluenose,” the sheriff muttered, shaking his head and lighting his cigar. “Just when I'd really be interested in hearing every last detail, he decides to become a gentleman!"

* * * *

While Rob worked the evening shift all week, Carly hid in her dorm room, burying herself in homework and serious soul searching. She felt extremely guilt ridden about negatively affecting her father's approval rating. She was also afraid that Robby would encounter problems on the job because of his relationship with her. For the first time in her life, she questioned her decision to uncover acts of wrongdoing. Never had she expected such resistance to the call for justice. Nor did she realize the price would be so high.

Public opinion rarely affected her; however hostility had reached new heights. Jackie Balsey's editorial ignited the sparks of outrage, causing Carly to become the newly appointed wicked witch of Plitesville. Every day she was forced to endure disapproving glares and biting comments about her interview with a convicted drug dealer, as well as her new relationship with the amorous deputy sheriff.

As she walked to class one morning, she found Wyatt attempting to clean off her car before she could discover that it'd been pelted with eggs and smeared with graffiti written in white shoe polish. After setting her books down on the sidewalk, she silently assisted him, her cheeks flushing brightly with anger as she worked. Wyatt tried to talk her into accompanying him to Johnnie's that evening for a friend's night out, but she refused. She couldn't bear any more public humiliation or risk having Robby take on the whole town in order to defend her. Even though she insisted on being alone to think things through, Wyatt showed up at her door that evening, bearing a pizza and friendly advice.

“Carly, I know you don't want to talk tonight, and I respect that, but I've got some things to say. You just sit there and have some pizza while I get this off my chest, okay?"

She nodded and graciously dove into the mouth-watering meal.

“First off, I want to apologize for getting you that interview with Aaron Miles. I had no idea the whole town would go ballistic and attack you over it. I was really just trying to help, and I'm sorry it didn't go like we'd hoped. Just try and remember that all great journalists are hated at one time or another in their careers. I guess you're just getting it out of the way early.

“It might make you feel better to know that the entire Speerings staff is on your side. Well, everybody except Nicole. But that's only because she's jealous that you're going out with Rob and she isn't. Anyway, everybody wanted me to tell you to please show up at the meeting tomorrow afternoon. They hate it when you put me in charge."

Carly snickered and nodded as she continued to chew.

“Now, I understand why you've been hiding out in your room all week, but I'm not about to let you turn back into a recluse again. If you want to go somewhere, you just give me a call and I'll go with you. Next week when Rob's off the evening shift, I know he'll be right back by your side, but in the meantime, I'm here for you.

“If you're considering breaking it off with him just to protect him, you need to get that thought out of your head right now. It's obvious you two are crazy about each other. If folks around here don't like it, that's their problem. And that includes your father! Rob can take care of himself, and you know he'd die defending you. So don't you go throwing away the best thing that's ever happened to you. I know it is, ‘cause your face breaks out in that giddy grin at the mere mention of his name. Yep, there it is now!

“Last but not least, I know you're struggling with whether or not to continue your articles on the sheriff, so I thought I'd throw in my two cents worth. Considering everything that's happened, maybe it would be best for you to lay low for a little while. Now don't get me wrong; I'm not saying you should give up on it altogether. You should keep researching articles and talking to folks about their experiences, but keep it out of The Speerings for the time being. Just stay undercover and wait for the big'un!"

“The big'un?” she asked, taking advantage of Wyatt's dramatic pause.

“Yeah. Hard, cold, rock-solid evidence that no one can dispute. The big'un,” he said again, using a mysterious voice and widening his eyes.

“And what if I never get solid proof, Wyatt? How many other people have to get hurt before somebody does something about it?"

“Hey, I'm sorry to sound so cold, but that's not your problem, Carly. If you're serious about being a journalist, you'd better get used to it. Your job is to report the facts, not to get personally involved and try to solve the world's injustices. If that's what you're looking to do, you need to consider a different line of work."

Sighing deeply, she pushed her plate away. “Maybe you're right. Maybe I'm not cut out to be a reporter. I know I'm supposed to stay detached, but when I hear about people suffering and see somebody literally getting away with murder, I can't report it and then walk away. I know that's what the pros do, but I just can't shake it."

Wyatt smiled sympathetically. “That's because you have something most reporters don't: a heart. Now, you either need to have it surgically removed or learn to switch it off while you're working. There's no doubt in my mind that you'll be a top-notch reporter some day. You've got unbelievable courage and great instincts. I personally believe you're right about Sheriff Nagle, but that doesn't mean we should put it in print. Unfortunately, public opinion takes precedence over the truth sometimes. People want to hear what they want to hear and the media hands it to them on a silver platter. They've got to go with what sells. It's all about the money."

“So you're in favor of selling out to the general consensus, too? You sound just like Professor McCoy!"

“Carly, did you ever stop to think that maybe he's the professor for a reason? Maybe he knows what he's talking about! He's not saying he's in favor of selling out, but in the real world it happens every day. When you go to work for a news station, do you honestly think they're going to let you report anything you want? No way! You're going to have to report what they tell you to report. Professor McCoy's just trying to prepare you for the realities of life."

“Well, if I'm not in the real world yet, why do I have to be subjected to its ridiculous rules already?"

“Oh, so you're saying you want folks to keep writing cruel editorials about you and the folks you care the most about? You like being called nasty names and having your car vandalized? You enjoy causing problems for your dad and your boyfriend on their jobs?"

“Of course not! But what am I supposed to do with all this information?"

“Yeah, that's a tough one. I guess you need to weigh the pros and cons and decide from there. Do what the people of this town do. They've heard the stories about the sheriff, and I'm sure a lot of folks believe them. But they've decided that having a safe town is worth the price. Are your reports and editorials about the sheriff worth the price?"

Looking into his understanding eyes, she slowly shook her head. “No,” she whispered with resignation. “But if I suddenly quit writing articles about the sheriff, won't it look like I'm caving in to pressure?"

“Don't worry. You can get back at your dad by dating Rob,” he stated matter-of-factly.

“This isn't about my father! I feel really bad about how I've hurt his career. I just don't want all the fanatics around here to think they've beaten me down and won, especially Jackie Balsey!"

Wyatt smiled wickedly. “Yeah, but just think how satisfying it'll be to drop the big'un on them one day and prove you were right all along."

“But that may never happen!"

“I never said it wasn't a gamble."

Carly stood up and paced back and forth in front of his chair, chewing the nail of her index finger thoughtfully. He waited in silence, while she made her decision. “Alright, if I drop the Sheriff Nagle stories, how do you propose we go about getting the big'un?"

Wyatt clasped his hands together victoriously. “Well, mostly we need to keep our eyes and ears open. We'll look into anything out of the ordinary to see if we can connect it to the sheriff. I figure the only way to get the big'un is to catch him and his cohorts doing something illegal. My parents gave me a video camera for my birthday so we're all set to capture them in action."

“We're going to spy on the sheriff!? Robby will kill me if he finds out!"

“No, he won't. From what I've seen, the crazier stuff you do, the more attracted he is to you."

“Yeah, but I'm sure my charms have their limits. Plus, the last time I checked, stalking someone was against the law. Robby's a real stickler when it comes to the law."

“He didn't seem to hold it against you when we trespassed on the sheriff's property. I honestly don't think there's a thing you can do that'll make him change his mind. But I do want you to feel completely comfortable with our plan before we proceed with it."

“Comfortable? I can't even remember what that feels like! I'm definitely not comfortable with keeping a secret from Robby. I guess I don't really have much of a choice other than dropping this thing altogether. And I don't think I could live with myself if I did that."

“So you're in?” he asked, rubbing his hands together eagerly.

“Yeah, I'm in,” she muttered, hating herself for her inability to refuse a risky proposition. “I can just see the news story now: ‘A deputy was arrested today after murdering his girlfriend. The deputy's partner in the crime? The mayor!’”

Wyatt laughed. “Yeah, but at least you'll go out doing what you love."

“That's very comforting, Wyatt,” she said sarcastically. “Robby and I are still in our trial basis stage. I guess this'll be a true test to our potential as a couple."

“Potential?” he asked with a hearty laugh. “If it doesn't work out between you two, there's no hope for any of us. Now, enough about you. Let's get crackin’ on our research and come up with a game plan to score the big'un."

Twenty

Carly and Wyatt spent all day Saturday at the library researching archived articles from every year Sheriff Nagle had been in office. Their imaginations ran wild as they read accounts of arrests, attempted escapes, and accidents resulting in injury or even death of Plites County's accused. They also rediscovered the heartbreaking story of a deputy sheriff named Hollis Dupree.

The article stated that Sheriff Nagle placed Deputy Dupree on a long-term desk assignment as disciplinary action for an undisclosed transgression. During the very first week the sheriff finally reinstated the deputy to his normal job responsibilities, he became caught up in the crossfire of a violent arrest and struggled for his life in the hospital before dying several days later. It was determined that the bullet removed from his brain had been fired from the gun of Deputy Handley, Sheriff Nagle's right hand man. After the findings, the distressed Deputy Handley took an extended leave of absence during which he spent three weeks in Hawaii, enjoying the recuperating effects of the islands.

The color drained from Carly's face as she read the article. She remembered attending the funeral with her parents. She recalled seeing the grief stricken face of the deputy's widow and the confused expressions of his two young children.

When Wyatt brought her back to reality, assuring her that the death was purely accidental, she pulled her cell phone from her purse and immediately called Robby. Her hope was that hearing his voice might untie the enormous knot that had formed in her stomach. Robby teased her about her sudden interest in his well being, saying her attentiveness and concern seemed highly inappropriate for someone who was merely involved in a trial basis relationship.

Carly sighed impatiently. “Robby, promise me right now that you'll stay out of Sheriff Nagle's way. But follow his orders to a tee, okay?” she added quickly.

“You want me to follow the sheriff's orders? Since when?” he asked with a chuckle.

“Well, I'm sure he'll never ask you to do anything unethical since you're not one of his cronies. Just promise me, okay?"

“Okay,” he said uncertainly. “Say, Carly ... have you taken your temperature lately? You sound feverish. Or is that just the effect my voice has on you?"

She rolled her eyes. “Call me later,” she said quietly, hanging up as the librarian walked over to shush her.

The following week, Wyatt and Carly spent their afternoons phoning the individuals named in the news articles they had retrieved. Most of them were unwilling to discuss their experiences involving the sheriff's department; however the two amateur reporters were able to set up one meeting with a cooperative relative. They also reached Ms. Audrey Dupree, the widow of the fallen deputy, and Carly expressed her deepest sympathy before asking gentle, sensitive questions concerning her husband's demise. Ms. Dupree did not greet Carly with like courteousness.

“You should be ashamed of yourself, calling here and pretending to be concerned about me and my family! I've heard all about you and your little crusade. You're not fooling me one bit. I know you're just looking for something else to blame on Sheriff Nagle."

“No, ma'am. I'm just—"

“You've got just as big an imagination as my Hollis did. And you're as stubborn, too. He insisted that the sheriff was up to no good just like you're doing, and he got himself in hot water over it. I don't know why folks want to think the worse about people. The sheriff may be tough on criminals, but I can tell you for a fact that he's got a heart of gold."

“And why do you say that?"

“After Hollis got shot, Sheriff Nagle stayed by my side at the hospital the whole time. Once Hollis died, the sheriff looked after me and my children like we were his own personal responsibility. He's helped me financially and been nothing but kind to me in spite of his and Hollis’ differences at work. Deputy Handley's been just as kind, too. You can look elsewhere if you're looking to blame my husband's death on either of them. Accidents are bound to happen whenever guns are involved. You better think long and hard about that before you go getting too mixed up with that young deputy. Now, don't ever call here again. Good-bye!” she said brusquely, before slamming down the phone.

Wyatt took the phone from Carly's shaking hand as she slowly sat down in his desk chair, bearing the look of someone who just witnessed a heinous crime. “So, what'd she say?” he asked impatiently.

“She said Sheriff Nagle had her husband killed,” she answered with wide eyes.

“She actually said that?” he asked with astonishment, jumping to his feet.

“No, but from what she did say, I'm almost positive that's what happened."

Wyatt sat back down on his bed. “Being almost positive is what's gotten you into this mess to begin with, Carly. That's not good enough and you know it. We'll just have to move along and hope for something more concrete."

The next day, Carly and Wyatt met with the sister of a fugitive who had died tragically before deputies could arrest him. The news article simply stated that Buddy Farrell paid the ultimate price for fleeing from sheriff's deputies when he decided to do so the day before snowfall hit the Blueridge Mountains. The sister's version of the story chilled Carly to the bone and not simply because it involved a winter storm. She insisted that her brother was innocent of the crimes for which he'd been accused and that his death was indeed the result of his own foolish actions, but in a different way than had been reported in the newspapers.

* * * *

Buddy Farrell and his sister, Baylee, had always been very close. Baylee voiced her concerns when he confided his “strike it rich” scheme involving Sheriff Nagle, but he assured her that his plan was infallible. Buddy owned “Dependable Appliances", a store in the heart of Plitesville that not only specialized in household appliances but also featured a large selection of audio and video equipment.

Late one cold January night, Buddy received a phone call from his security system company informing him that the alarm at his store had sounded and they had already notified the police. After throwing on his robe, he raced to the store, turning off the lights of his car and pulling around to the back entrance. As his car eased around the dark corner, he was shocked to see two deputies loading small boxes of stereo and video equipment into the trunk of their patrol car. He waited until the deputies closed the trunk and walked into the building before pulling his car next to theirs and greeting them nonchalantly. He never said one word about having witnessed their thievery nor did he mention the hidden security camera aimed right at the backdoor.

The officers calmly took a report of all missing merchandise and provided a phone number where Buddy could report any additional stolen items he may have overlooked. Buddy also jotted down the deputies’ names and thanked them for their assistance. As soon as they were out of sight, he rewound the security videotape and discovered to his delight that the thieves’ identities were clearly visible. His first instinct was to take the tape directly to the sheriff's department the next morning; however he told his sister later that a different notion wormed its way into his mind after he returned home and slipped back into bed.

Several days later, Buddy did pay a visit to the sheriff's department but not to report a crime. He marched straight into Sheriff Nagle's office and asked how much his deputies’ reputations were worth, placing the tape into the VCR and pushing “play". The sheriff's face displayed no emotion as he watched the footage and then listened to the price tag Buddy had attached to the incriminating evidence. After a long minute of silence, the sheriff finally nodded. “It'll take me a few days to round up that kind of money. How about I meet you in Hyde Park on Thursday night—say around midnight—and we can make the switch then?"

Buddy readily agreed. The night before the exchange was to take place, he sat in his den, wringing his hands excitedly and picturing himself sailing on Tellico Lake in his new boat. He imagined young bikini clad women surrounding him on the deck as he sipped a glass of fine wine and scoffed at the jealous schmucks paddling by in tiny canoes.

His daydream vaporized by a loud rap at his door followed by a stern voice that hardly emitted the warm salutations of a friend. Peeping through the curtain, he was alarmed to see two deputies standing outside his door, their outlines flashing ominously in the blue light of their squad car. Feelings of dread filled his soul as he stood frozen inside his home, not knowing if a loved one had been tragically taken from him or if he was to be arrested for blackmail. When a second knock sounded and a dour voice ordered, “Open up, Farrell; this is the Police,” Buddy knew his loved ones were safe yet he was not.

His intense state of panic blocked out all reasoning, causing him to snatch up the videotape and dash toward the back door. Peering through the curtain, he didn't see a deputy stationed outside the exit, but commonsense told him that Sheriff Nagle's henchmen would leave no stone unturned. Fortunately, he possessed a unique stone that even the most proficient deputy would have trouble unearthing. With the sounds of flashlights tapping against his window and loud voices shouting commands, Buddy raced to the steps leading into his basement.

Flinging open the door, he ran down the stairs and straight to the small outlet that to the average person would appear to be a storage area. In truth, because of an obsessive fear of tornadoes, the original owner and builder of the home had included an underground tunnel that led from the basement to a storm cellar several yards from his dwelling. Buddy charged through the narrow corridor and felt his way through the pitch darkness until reaching the cellar. Quickly stumbling up the steep stairs, he lifted the heavy door just high enough to peer through the crack. A deputy was indeed located outside the back door but was preoccupied with unloading stereo and video equipment that had been stolen from Dependable Appliances.

In spite of the frosty temperature, Buddy felt his temperature rise to the boiling point as he watched officers of the law stack appropriated merchandise on his back porch. He thought he would literally ignite when he heard the sound of shattering glass. Another deputy had broken a window and reached in to open the front door, walking through the house and graciously welcoming in his fellow thief, along with the stolen merchandise.

Buddy knew it'd be hopeless to fight the charge of insurance fraud that would certainly be brought against him when the stolen goods were discovered in his own home. If the officers allowed him to live, that is. His only hope was to flee from the scene and take his videotape to the Tennessee Bureau of Investigation as soon as possible. It was a sure bet that the officers’ next step would be to locate him or his videotape and destroy whichever they found first.

Slowly pushing the door open, Buddy crept up out of the cellar, never taking his eyes off the deputies standing just inside his back door. After gently lowering the thick hatch, careful not to make a sound, he took one last look at his once secure haven before running at top speed to the back of his property and into the dense woods.

He wasn't sure how long he ran, but once he decided it was safe to stop for a rest, it dawned on him that he was lost in a national forest on a frigid winter's night, wearing only a sweat suit that was damp with nervous perspiration. As panic set in, he tried to remember the survival lessons he learned during his days in Boy Scouts, cursing himself for being more interested in girls than in learning how to start a fire with two sticks. He did remember that the North Star was available right overhead to guide a wretched fugitive to safety, but unfortunately, a thick layer of clouds blocked his view. As he stared up into the darkness searching for a break in the merciless overlay, the clouds—with their large, pious faces—laughed down at him tauntingly.

Sighing deeply and wishing he'd grabbed his cell phone in addition to the videotape, he continued to walk in the direction that he thought led to a large campground, his teeth chattering from the cold. Even though exhausted, he knew that to stop equaled certain death, so he trudged through the deep woods until the break of dawn brought forth its first light of hope. As he watched the sky and earth lose their dismal inkiness, the snowflakes that began to fall from the low gray clouds mocked him for daring to dream, and the complete lack of visible or audible signs of human life did nothing to comfort him. Buddy continued to trudge through the snow, praying for forgiveness and mercy while wishing he'd listened to his sister's nagging to compose a will.

* * * *

“When the police dogs finally found my brother, he was curled up in a little ball next to a big rock,” Baylee stated sadly. “He was covered with snow and in the beginning stages of hypothermia. He developed pneumonia and died ten days later, but he did manage to tell me his story before the good Lord took him home.

“I know he shouldn't have gotten greedy and tried to blackmail the sheriff, but if those deputies hadn't stolen from him to begin with, he'd still be alive. Sheriff Nagle may not have been the one who actually took the merchandise, but I'm sure he was well aware of his deputies’ actions. I'd also bet he's the one who came up with the scheme to frame Buddy for it. Somebody's got to stop him and his little gang before they cause any more deaths!"

“Have you reported this to anyone?” Carly asked.

“I went to the Tennessee Bureau of Investigation, but they said unless I could produce that videotape, there was nothing they could do to help me. They're convinced it's a clear-cut case of insurance fraud. I can't tell you how many days I've spent searching through the woods myself, hoping Buddy dropped that tape somewhere along the way. I'm sure if the deputies haven't found it by now, it's been ruined by the weather, though. I don't reckon my brother was smart enough to think of making a copy of it. Bless his foolish ol’ heart."

Carly watched helplessly as Baylee wiped tears from her cheeks. “We're so sorry about your brother, Mrs. Givens. We believe his story, and we wish there were something we could do to help."

“Thank you. It's nice to meet someone who believes me for a change. Sheriff Nagle seems to think he can get away with anything and that he'll never get caught. He even came to Buddy's funeral and offered to help me in any way he could. You know what I did? I spit on him; that's what I did! I know it wasn't very dignified, but I just couldn't take that insincere smile or his fake sympathy. I figured I'd earned his wrath after that, but he's left me alone and even tips his hat at me whenever I see him. All I can do is keep hoping and praying that one day he'll be found out. He needs to be made to suffer, just like Buddy did."

“Well, we appreciate you taking time to talk to us,” Carly stated quickly, uncomfortable with Baylee's fierce expression and vengeful tone. “We're both hoping the corruption at the sheriff's department is found out soon and that Sheriff Nagle will be put away for a long, long time."

“He don't need to be put away. He needs to be put down like the rabid dog he is! Maybe when everyone reads my story appear in The Speerings they'll—"

“I'm afraid this conversation will be staying between the three of us, Mrs. Givens,” Wyatt interjected quickly. “We're taking a little break from the Sheriff Nagle stories right now."

“What? I thought I'd finally found someone with enough guts to put my story in print and clear my brother's name. I know it's just a college paper, but it's better than nothing."

“I'm sorry,” Wyatt said, shaking his head at Carly, who had taken on an eager expression. “We just can't print your story right now."

Baylee let out a huff and shook her head. “Well, I wouldn't have wasted my breath if I'd known it was just to cure your little curiosities! I know using a college rag was a stretch, but it was my last hope. I'll never be able to sue the sheriff's department without some kind of validation to my story. Thanks for nothing!"

Carly and Wyatt watched her stalk away, their mouths hanging open with disbelief. As they listened to her tires squeal up the road, Wyatt turned to Carly and voiced her exact thoughts. “So was her story for real or not?"

“Sheesh, I don't know. But it'd sure make a great news story."

“It ain't news ‘til the fat boy says it is,” he said, pointing his thumb toward his chest. “I guess the time has come to give up on urban legends and figure out how we're going to spy on our ol’ friend, Sheriff Nagle."

Twenty-one

“Did you know Buddy Farrell?” Carly casually asked Rob as they stood in line outside the movie theater.

“Buddy Farrell? Yeah, I kind of knew him. Why do you ask?"

“I was just wondering if you'd ever heard his sister's side of the story."

Rob scoffed. “Yeah, I've heard it. I guess you believe every word of that nonsense, don't you?” Squeezing her shoulder playfully, he pulled her closer to him.

“I don't know if I do or not. Do you think Buddy was the kind of guy who'd fake a robbery for the insurance money?"

“He was a pretty slick salesman; I can tell you that much. I bought my stereo system from him. The whole time he was writing up the sale, he kept going on and on about how the economy was killing his business and how he didn't know if he'd survive it. It sure didn't surprise me to hear that he'd pull a stunt like that, considering his comments. Please tell me you're not thinking of printing his sister's story. I thought you and Wyatt had finally come to your senses and given up on that subject."

“We have given up on writing about the sheriff. But that doesn't mean either of us have changed our opinions. Or that we won't ever print something about him again if we happen upon a story we can prove."

Rob frowned. “I don't like the sound of that. Are you still nosing around and trying to dig something up on him?"

“We've not looking into any more old cases,” she answered truthfully, wondering how Wyatt was doing on his late night stakeout in front of the sheriff's department.

“I'm glad to hear it.” Rob paused to give the eavesdropping moviegoer in front of him a threatening glare before turning back to his date. “I'm hoping things have died down enough where you can go with me to the Memorial Day celebration next Saturday."

“No way, Robby! I wouldn't be caught dead within a mile of that place."

“But my dad's going to be one of the veterans honored during the ceremony. I want you there with me to see it."

“Neither one of your parents like me. Not to mention the fact that Sheriff Nagle and my father will both be there. The whole thing sounds like a recipe for disaster to me!"

After paying for the movie tickets and a box of popcorn, Rob took her by the hand to lead her inside. “You can't keep hiding out to avoid people who don't like you, Carly. I hate to tell you, but you'd be doing good to find a handful of folks who haven't got it in for you for one reason or another. This is a real small town. It'd be impossible not to run into your father or Sheriff Nagle somewhere along the line; unless you turn into a homebody again, and I'm not about to let that happen. We're dating now, and you're just going to have to deal with your father and Sheriff Nagle being present at some of the places we go. It won't be comfortable for anyone, but it's just a fact of life."

“No, here's a fact of life for you,” she rebuffed, trying unsuccessfully to pull her hand out of his. “There's no law written anywhere that says I have to attend the Memorial Day celebration. I'm not going. It's as simple as that."

“Oh, you'll be there,” he stated confidently, leading her to the back row of the theatre and pulling her down next to him.

“And why do you say that?"

As if on cue the lights dimmed and the movie previews began to play. Rob immediately placed his index finger in front of his lips to quiet his date, and even though she stared at him with suspicious irritation, he turned his attention to the large screen, grinning contently and munching loudly on his buttery snack.

She eventually yielded and diverted her curious glare to the big screen, watching the movie in brooding silence. When the film's superhero finally captured every villain, as well as the heart of the leading lady, Carly began her interrogation. Badgering Rob all the way to her dormitory, she didn't let up until he pulled her to him and busied her lips with a more pleasant activity.

“Yep, we're going to have a great time this Memorial Day,” he stated with a mischievous grin, walking backward to his car as if to prolong his enjoyment of her ruffled feathers.

The next day, Carly met her mother for lunch after church. Amy's original invitation had been for her daughter to come home for a traditional Sunday dinner, but Carly refused without a second's hesitation. Her mother begged her to set aside her differences with her father for one afternoon so they could enjoy being a family again, but Carly stood her ground even when her mother guaranteed that the mayor would be on his best behavior.

While Carly missed her mother's home cooking and the closeness of her family unit, she wasn't willing to subject herself to any more of her father's criticism of the very thing for which she felt the most passion. She understood why he abhorred the gossipmongers who turned a profit by digging up personal dirt on celebrities and politicians. What she couldn't fathom was his objection to investigative reporting that uncovered the truth, especially when the truth deeply affected the lives of the people whom he was elected to serve.

She also knew her father would condemn her for dating Robby Coad, the only man who'd ever looked at her with pure longing yet treated her with the utmost respect. She wasn't interested in hearing anything either of her parents had to say about him. It was evident they'd already discussed the subject. Carly's mother had shown up at her door the day after the mayor caught his daughter and the deputy in a playful tussle. She told Carly that she appeared to be heading down the rebellious road to ruin and thought she might need a refresher course on how to say “no” to a man.

Carly listened patiently to her mother's gentle explanations and warnings, an amused smile tugging at her lips during the entire discourse. She attempted to ease her mother's concerns by revealing Robby's gentlemanly promise, but Amy's face displayed sheer skepticism, and she proceeded with a speech on the wiles and cunningness of the male persuasion. Carly nodded politely and pretended to listen, assuring her mother that she stood by her goal to legitimately wear white on her wedding day. She then quickly changed the subject by saying they should meet for lunch one Sunday after church.

That Sunday arrived, and Carly and her mother enjoyed a delicious meal at an outdoor table of the cafe. As they continued to chat after finishing their lunch, the hostess walked through the patio door, leading a small party of giggling young women to a nearby table. Carly was surprised to see Nicole leave the group and march determinedly toward her. Nicole had resigned from her position on The Speerings staff shortly after word spread that Carly finally succumbed to Robby's pursuit. The blonde senior simply refused to work alongside the underclassman who had captivated the good-looking deputy without even trying.

Carly braced herself for an attack as her fellow student appeared in front of her. “Hey, Nicole,” she said casually, picking up the check as a cue.

“Hey, Carly. Hey, Mrs. Wright. Where's the mayor?"

“Unfortunately, he couldn't join us today. He's a very busy man,” Amy answered with a smile.

Nicole turned her attention back to Carly. “Well, I hope you're not mad at me for borrowing your boyfriend for a little while next Saturday,” she crooned, her guileful grin belying her apologetic tone.

“What?” Carly asked with a confused frown.

Nicole innocently placed her hand in front of her mouth. “You mean Rob didn't tell you? Uh-oh! I hope I'm not giving away something I shouldn't."

Carly felt as if she were experiencing a very premature hot flash. “Are you talking about the Memorial Day celebration?” she asked, picturing Robby's smug expression the previous night.

“Oh, so he did tell you,” Nicole said disappointedly. “Well, like I said, I hope you're not mad at me. He was the only guy I could think of to pick."

“For what?” Carly's mother asked on her behalf.

“For the square dance kidnapping. It's something new The United Daughters of the Confederacy are doing this year. All the members get to kidnap a man of their choice to be their partner in a square dance that'll take place in the pavilion at twilight. We've already mailed our kidnapping announcements to the victims. The coolest part of it is if the guy we choose turns us down, he'll be captured by men dressed in Confederacy uniforms and be made to wear blue Union fatigues! There were about eight of us who wanted Rob so we drew straws, and guess what? I'm the lucky winner!"

“What a creative idea,” Amy stated pleasantly, looking at her daughter's clinching jaws. “But I don't understand what square dancing or kidnapping have to do with honoring those who gave their lives for our country."

“It's just to liven things up so it won't be so solemn,” Nicole stated defensively. “I think it's a cool idea, don't you, Carly?"

Carly grabbed her newly refilled glass of iced tea and downed it. “I personally can't wait to see how it turns out,” she stated calmly, after the cooling liquid had time to douse her blazing jealousy, as well as her infuriation.

“So you're going?” Nicole asked with surprise. “You know the sheriff's going to be there, right? And probably Jackie Balsey, too."

“Then I wouldn't miss it for the world,” Carly announced with an insidious smile.

“Well, I guess I'll see you then,” Nicole said hostilely.

Carly stood to her feet and met Nicole's frosty stare. “Yeah, I guess so."

“Bye, Mrs. Wright,” she said quickly, diverting her eyes from Carly's intimidating gape.

“Nice talking to you, Nicole. Say hello to your parents for me.” Mrs. Wright waved politely at the fleeing girl's back.

Amy looked up at her daughter, who continued to stare at her competitor while fiercely twisting the dinner check around and around in her hands. “Carly, sit back down here a minute. And give me that check before you turn it into confetti!"

Carly looked down at the mutilated paper in her hand then quickly took her seat. “I'm supposed to meet Wyatt at the park in a few minutes, Mom. Then I've got to go kill Robby."

Amy regarded her daughter thoughtfully. “This'll only take a minute."

Carly impatiently fell into her seat.

Amy paused before addressing her daughter softly. “Carly, just why are you dating Rob Coad?"

An involuntary smile formed on Carly's lips. “'Cause he's ... ‘Cause I really ... Oh, I don't know, Mom!” she said with a shrug.

“Is it because you know your father doesn't approve?"

“No! I understand why you'd think that, but I promise it's not the reason. Robby and I have this really cool connection. It's hard to explain. We've always been friends, but now there's a lot more to it than that."

Amy nodded. “Well, I can tell he makes you happy. I haven't seen you smile so much in years. I can't honestly say that I'm comfortable with the idea, but you're way past the age of me telling you who you can and can't date.

“I hope you don't mind if I throw out a suggestion, though. As much as I'm thrilled to see you getting out into the world again, I really wish you'd reconsider your decision to attend the Memorial Day festivities."

“But, Mom! Nicole is going to be there trying her best to take Robby away from me! You heard her. You saw that smirk on her face. You expect me to stay home and let the little bimbo have him? I don't think so!"

Amy calmly intertwined her fingers and placed her hands on the table in front of her. “Okay, Carly. Let me set the scene for you. You're walking hand-in-hand with a very protective deputy through a crowd of extremely conservative, patriotic people. These people view you as an anti-American liberal and criminal sympathizer. You may run into a woman in that crowd who portrayed you as Satan's little helper and discredited your journalistic skills to the entire town. She also accused you of dating the protective deputy just to get information. What do you think is going to happen when all these forces come together?"

Carly looked away and remained silent while Amy forged ahead.

“Next, you meet the sheriff. In spite of what he says, this man can't be happy with you. He also can't be thrilled that his deputy is openly consorting with the woman who made unfounded accusations toward him involving heinous crimes. Can you honestly imagine the three of y'all standing around and having a jolly, ol’ time in the park together?"

Carly shook her head slightly.

“Then along comes your father. He's outraged by the things you've said about the sheriff and the fact that you've left home. And the very sight of you holding hands with Rob Coad makes him lose all semblance of rationale and sanity. How much of a celebration will it be when the mayor's hauled away to the nuthouse?"

Carly opened her mouth to comment, but Amy quickly grabbed her daughter's hand and continued. “Let's say you actually make it through the first torturous part of the maze. What's your reward? You get the privilege of watching your new boyfriend parade around the dance floor with another girl; a girl who'll use every trick in her little designer handbag to make you jealous. Now, does that sound like a fun way to spend a Saturday afternoon, sweetie? I think you need to wait a little while and let things die down all the way before you jump right into a public gathering."

“But what about her?” Carly asked, pointing toward Nicole's table, “and those seven other girls who are after Robby?"

“Well, maybe you need to reevaluate your decision to go out with him if you can't trust him."

“That's something we're working on, Mom. He's trying to prove that he's trustworthy, and I'm learning to trust him. But we're still in a trial period. I don't feel comfortable handing him over to a love-starved blonde just yet. Believe me; I had no intention of going to the Memorial Day celebration until I heard about this. I know it could get ugly, but I'll try to stay out of everybody's way. Especially Dad's. I don't want to see him any more than he wants to see me."

Amy tilted her head and looked at her daughter with eyes that imaged her broken heart. “Carly, your father loves you very much. He's just looking out for you, that's all."

Carly stood. “My father loves politics, and all he's looking out for is his career. I've got to go, Mom. I love you.” Leaning down, she gave her mother a hug.

“I love you, too, sweetie. Take care of yourself, and let me know if you need anything. Just think about what I said, okay? And say ‘hello’ to Wyatt for me."

Amy stood by the table and watched her daughter walk away. When Carly gave Nicole a self-assured grin and strolled by her table with her head held high, Amy smiled and nodded at her with a look of pride.

When Carly pulled up next to Wyatt's vehicle at Hyde Park, she snickered at the sight of her friend with his head tilted back and mouth opened wide in a deep sleep. Neither the sound of her motor shutting down nor the slamming of her car door brought him out of his world of dreams. Carly knew that a kind friend would gently nudge him awake, but she simply couldn't resist reaching inside his open window and sounding the horn loud and long instead.

When Wyatt jumped violently with a start, his eyes opening wide and arms flailing, she also could not resist laughing loud and long. Wyatt shook his head and rubbed his sleepy eyes as she stood outside his window and teased him in between giggles. “Up and at ‘em, Detective Gurnell! I can see you've got the watchful eye of a hawk. The sheriff will never get away with anything with you on the case; that's for sure."

“Shut up, Carly,” he mumbled irritably. “Where were you last night when I was stationed outside the sheriff's department until all hours, huh? Oh, now I remember. You were relaxing in a nice, cool movie theatre with your date."

“Hey, that stakeout was totally your idea. I told you I already had plans. Did you see anything interesting?"

“No,” he admitted dismally, stepping out of his car. “I thought about following a couple of deputies that left there together, but I was afraid of getting caught. I'm thinking that's the only way we're going to get any leads, though."

“There's only one deputy I want to keep my eye on right now. The one who's getting kidnapped by a shameless, square dancing bimbo this Saturday night!"

Wyatt's face broke into a wide grin, and he rubbed his hands together eagerly. “You're really going? All right! This ought to be the most exciting Memorial Day celebration this town's ever seen!"

Twenty-two

The weathermen had predicted a rainless, very warm Memorial Day weekend, and it appeared as though the forecasters could chalk up another lucky guess and call it scientific wizardry. Only an occasional wispy cloud marred the unending canvas of blue that covered Plites County's festivities. Carly had prayed for rain all week, hoping her cry for an end to the long draught would ease her guilt over her true motive: to avoid an awkward and volatile situation even if it meant ruining the fun for the entire county.

As she rode with Rob to Hyde Park that bright afternoon, she searched the sky for signs of pop-up thunderstorms, letting out a loud sigh and wringing her hands nervously when not one gray cloud could be found. Rob reached out and took one of her hands into his. “Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are when you're fidgety?” he asked with a serious expression.

She rolled her eyes. “Has anyone ever told you how annoying you are when you're handing out insincere compliments?"

“I'm totally sincere, Carly. There's just something about you when you've got that nervous energy going. It's almost as good as when you accept an invitation to an event that you swore you wouldn't be caught dead attending."

She shot him a hateful look but continued to hold on tightly to his hand. “About now, I'm wishing I'd stayed home and let Nicole have you!"

“And miss out on all the stuff I have planned for you? You'd be sorry."

“Well, if this is an example of what you've got planned for me, I'm already sorry. It'll be a miracle if I make it through this day without getting myself lynched or arrested."

“You know I'm not going to let anybody lynch you. I'd die defending you if it came to that. And if you need arresting, I'll do it myself. Any scene that involves you being handcuffed and patted down; I am there, baby!"

Another roll of the eyes ensued. “Well, why don't you just haul me to jail right now? At this point, I'm willing to take my chances with the thieves and murderers."

Rob's mischievous expression softened. “Come on, Carly. It won't be that bad. We're going to have fun today. Nobody will mess with you when you've got a cop holding on to you. And believe me; I'm going to be holding on!"

“Except for when you're holding on to Nicole."

He grinned. “Well, Memorial Day is all about sacrifice."

“Oh, yeah? Then sacrifice this!” Snatching her hand away, she folded her arms in front of her.

Rob snickered under his breath then glanced at his brooding date. “It's all going to be okay,” he stated softly. “Nicole is the least of your worries. And I'm going to be right there with you through the rest."

Carly continued to stare out the window for only a moment before unfolding her arms and reaching over to take hold of his hand again. He smiled contently as he pulled his car into one of the few parking spaces still available at the park. Hopping out, he hurried over to open her door, an old fashion custom he insisted on observing in spite of her protests. Carly took a deep breath then released it slowly before stepping out onto the curb and gazing at the massive crowd that looked a lot like a bitter army of Sheriff Nagle supporters.

Smiling proudly, Rob placed his arm around her shoulder and pulled her closely to him, walking her toward the entrance of the park and conjuring up lines he'd not already tried. “Lean on me, baby. I know you must be tired. You were running through my dreams all night."

The expected roll of the eyes followed but she felt too anxious to comment.

He tried again. “You know how I can tell you're from Tennessee? ‘Cause you're the only ten I see."

She shook her head and scoffed.

Picking up an empty sugar packet from the ground, he handed it to her. “Here. You dropped your nametag."

When she added an impatient moan to the roll of the eyes, he went in for the kill. “Hey, why don't we find a place to be alone so you can experience a little of America's Most Wanted?"

Huffing with disgust and wiggling out from under his arm, Carly marched at top speed toward the event that she had dreaded for an entire week. Rob jogged to catch up, shaking his head and smiling as she walked with a renewed self-confidence.

Just before reaching the gate, she froze in place, and he followed her glacial stare to the origin of her hesitation. Standing right inside the entrance was the mayor, smiling brightly and shaking hands with each person who passed through the gate. Carly considered bolting until Rob placed his hand on her shoulder and spoke in her ear. “Do you really think he wants anybody to know about your little spat? Let's just walk in and say ‘hi', then we'll be on our way. It'll be fine."

“You're right,” she admitted with a nod. “He'd never make a scene with so many registered voters around. Let's go."

Placing her arm around Rob's waist, she walked toward her father with her head lowered and turned in toward her date. The mayor smiled and stuck out his hand before noticing that the passersby were his own daughter and Deputy Coad. “Hello, Mayor Wright,” Rob said pleasantly, reaching to shake his outstretched hand.

A brief flash of contempt crossed the mayor's face before he offered his hand to another voter, completely disregarding Rob's greeting, as well as his own daughter's existence. Carly's face displayed a profound sadness as Rob hurried her to the nearest booth. There they found volunteers painting temporary tattoos on the arms and faces of happy attendees. In an obvious attempt to lighten the mood, Rob requested that his date's name be branded upon his arm in gargantuan letters, encircled by a blazing red heart.

The volunteer took one disapproving look at Carly and shook her head. “We're only painting patriotic tattoos today."

Rob glanced around the booth then looked back at the attendant with squinted eyes. “Then why is that guy over there allowed to get a scorpion on his arm?"

The volunteer shrugged indifferently. “Sorry, that's the policy. Next in line, please."

“Hold on,” Rob said angrily, standing firmly in place. “There's nothing patriotic about a scorpion. If you're not talented enough to paint a name with a simple heart around it then I'm sure there's someone else who is."

At the sound of Rob's hostile assumption, the other two volunteers looked up from their customers and shook their heads. The youngest of them, a female Rob had dated briefly, stated adamantly, “I'm sure not doing it!"

Carly decided to step in before the situation became any tenser. “Let's just go, Robby. It's not worth it."

He opened his mouth to protest, but after taking one look at Carly's humiliated expression, he nodded with a sigh. Taking her by the hand, he led her through the crowd of disfavoring faces, his threatening glare daring anyone to make a comment. “Are we having fun yet?” she asked as they made their way to a game booth.

“The fun begins right now,” he stated confidently, taking the darts from the overseer and carefully aiming at the red, white, and blue balloons. Easily popping all three of the required targets with angry throws, he presented Carly with the small teddy bear begrudgingly given as his prize.

After receiving a gracious hug, he enthusiastically thanked the frowning game supervisor then escorted his date to a small stage where Plitesville High School's marching band performed a traditional patriotic ensemble. Standing behind Carly, he wrapped his arms around her waist and held her closely to him. Carly felt safe in his arms, imagining the menacing glare he bestowed upon any bystanders who looked as though they intended her verbal harm. Even so, she enfolded his arms with hers and leaned back against him, closing her eyes and wishing she could make herself invisible.

When the short concert was complete, Joe Willy Chastain, city councilman, took the stage to announce that Plitesville's veterans would be honored in fifteen minutes on the baseball field. He asked that everyone please save the bleacher seats for members of the veteran's families. “That's me,” Rob said, inching Carly in the direction of the field with the rest of the crowd, his arms still wrapped protectively around her waist.

“Maybe I should just skip this one,” she said quietly, picturing a riot breaking out due to her unwelcome presence.

“Baby, the only thing that's skipping is my heart at the thought of you,” he crooned in her ear, causing a weary roll of her eyes and a slight smile to form on her lips.

When they reached the bleachers, he scanned the crowd until he spotted his mother waving at him from the fifth row. He led Carly to the space that had been saved for them, sitting next to his mother and giving her a frown when she greeted his girlfriend with an icy, forced politeness. “Where's my punk brother?” he asked, placing his arm across Carly's lap and gently patting her knee.

“He's probably under the bleachers with his girlfriend of the week. I guess he's following right in his older brother's footsteps,” she stated loudly, causing heads to turn and nod mockingly in Carly's direction.

“Mom, I thought we already talked about this,” Rob whispered harshly. “I told you how I feel about Carly. Please be nice to her, okay?"

Mrs. Coad released an impatient sigh but nodded. As Joe Willy took to the pitcher's mound to kick off the ceremony, Rob turned his attention back to Carly, cuddling her to him while quietly apologizing for his mother. Carly looked up at him and smiled, amazed at his willingness to publicly display affection for the most unpopular citizen of Plites County. Her adoring trance was quickly broken when Sheriff Nagle was introduced as the community leader that would be recognizing their distinguished veterans that afternoon. Rob's mouth fell open, and Carly looked up at him as if he had betrayed her. “I swear I didn't know, Carly! He doesn't tell us everything he's involved in these days."

“Yeah, I knew that much,” she mumbled, watching the crowd stand to their feet to welcome the sheriff with a rousing ovation.

Carly remained in her seat, even when Rob hesitantly rose to clap with the rest of the audience. She knew it would appear hypocritical to applaud the man she'd openly declared a tyrant. She also knew to blatantly demonstrate a protest meant certain trouble. With hostile eyes weighing upon her, she remained frozen in her indecision while loud cheers and shrill whistles greeted the man she viewed as the true enemy of the people.

After a few more antagonistic scowls were cast in her direction, Rob sat back down, taking both of her hands into his. “Carly, you're not obligated to clap for anybody if you don't feel they deserve it. Last time I checked, this was still a free country. That's why those men over there went to war in the first place. I believe the sheriff deserves to be applauded, and I've done my part. Now I'm going to sit here next to you and support your decision not to join in. I don't give a rip what these people think,” he stated loudly enough for all to hear.

“Thank you,” she mouthed with a grateful smile before leaning forward and giving him a kiss on the cheek. Looking over his shoulder as he embraced her warmly, she noticed a familiar man in the second section of bleachers who had also opted to sit out the ovation. Apparently feeling the weight of her stare upon him, he turned his bitter eyes toward her and nodded, giving her an encouraging smile. Carly experienced a strong desire to run along the bleacher to him and ask what grievance he held against the sheriff, but she remained in Rob's arms instead, memorizing her ally's face for future reference.

When the applause finally died down and the crowd took their seats, Sheriff Nagle thanked everyone for their support before he proceeded with the ceremony. After making a short, patriotic speech, he expressed praise and appreciation for all the men and women who gave their lives to ensure the freedom of others. He then thanked the military personnel who had made it through the perils of war to enjoy the freedom for which they had fought. When the mayor joined the sheriff on the field to shake the hand of each veteran as the names were called, Carly wanted to flee from the scene. The sight of her beloved father standing by Sheriff Nagle's side sent chills up her spine yet caused her blood to boil.

As soon as her torture finally ended, she and Rob made their way quickly down the steps to greet his father then retreat to a less awkward atmosphere. Their plan was foiled when Jackie Balsey, journalist for the “Plitesville Sentry", seized an irresistible golden opportunity. As she interviewed the mayor and sheriff about the day's events, she deliberately walked them right into the path of Rob and Carly, who were attempting to leave the area unnoticed. “Mayor Wright, do you have any comments to make about your lovely daughter, to whom I'd like to apologize for almost running over just now,” she said with smooth, southern politeness.

“No, I have no comment,” he answered quickly, looking around for an escape route.

“Well, I have a comment,” Carly stated loudly, causing both Rob and the mayor to let out quiet groans. “If so-called journalists like you would get over your tabloid mentality and focus on the real issues like I do, we'd all be a lot better off."

Jackie smiled pleasantly. “You do realize you're not a real reporter, don't you, Carly?” she asked as if speaking to a mentally challenged child.

Uproarious laughter ensued from the small crowd that had gathered on the field. Carly's face turned blazing red yet her tone remained calm. “I take everything I do very seriously, Ms. Balsey."

“Yes. Perhaps you take everything a little too seriously,” Jackie stated with a laugh, turning to Rob. “Deputy Coad, tell us what it's like to date the daughter of Satan. No offense, Mayor Wright. I'm just assuming she's adopted?"

Her comment stopped the retreating mayor dead in his tracks and brought more laughter to the lips of the audience that continued to grow. “Now, there's no need in getting vicious, Jackie,” Mayor Wright said as if participating in a campaign debate. “Since you can't seem to keep your questions on a professional level, this interview is now over."

Jackie ignored his attempt at flexing a political muscle and turned her attention back to Rob, whose dander level had reached record setting heights. “Doesn't it bother you to be nothing but a pawn in Carly's little witch-hunt, Deputy Coad?"

Before answering, Rob glanced at Sheriff Nagle, who nodded his approval. “I've known Carly a long time, Ms. Balsey, since we were kids. She's nothing at all like you've described her. She's not Satan's daughter. She's an angel sent straight from heaven."

“Oh, so you're okay with her going after Sheriff Nagle?” Jackie asked with raised eyebrows.

“We don't have to see eye to eye on everything. She's free to do whatever she wants."

“Oh, really?” Jackie said as if awestricken, turning toward the Sheriff. “Is this true, Sheriff Nagle? If a woman dates one of your deputies, she's free to do whatever she wants?"

“You've taken the deputy's comment out of context, and you know it, Jackie,” the sheriff said gruffly.

Jackie appeared unaffected. “Well, tell us how you feel about your deputy dating your archenemy."

Sheriff Nagle chuckled. “Carly's not my enemy. I like Carly. I have nothing but respect for her and her father. I think my deputy's very lucky. Carly's beautiful enough to make a man overlook almost anything. All of my deputies are professionals, Jackie. I never have to worry about any of them letting outside circumstance sway them from their main objective, which is to keep this county the safest in the United States."

“You like Carly?” Jackie asked, aghast, completely ignoring the remainder of his speech. “How could you possibly like someone whose goal is to dethrone you and see you thrown in prison?"

“Well, she's got a right to her opinion just like everybody else. I just wished she didn't dislike me so much. I'd like to take this opportunity to apologize to her right here in front of all these witnesses and ask her to forgive whatever it is I've done to turn her against me."

All eyes turned toward Carly, who cleared her throat. “This isn't personal, Sheriff. I'm just doing my job."

Uproarious laughter filled the air with Jackie laughing harder than anyone else. “And just how much is Doral College paying you to do your job?” she asked, bursting into another raspy cackle.

Carly dropped her mortified gaze to the ground as the laughter continued. Since Rob looked to be on the verge of implementing riot control procedures, Sheriff Nagle held up his hands to quiet the crowd. “Okay, folks. That's enough. Let's cut Carly a little slack here. I think it's great when a college kid is so serious about her school projects. Now, since we've established that she doesn't have a personal vendetta against me, I'd like to extend an invitation to her, the mayor, and his lovely wife to attend a cookout at my house in the near future. Maybe we can smooth things over and get a fresh start."

Carly shook her head vigorously. “I'm sorry, but I won't be able to attend."

As the crowd moaned with displeasure, Sheriff Nagle continued his case. “But my new garage will be finished this week. I'd really like for you to see it."

Laughter, cheers, and whistles followed as Carly glared at the sheriff, who never missed a beat.

“Actually, I want to show it off to the mayor and see if I can get his approval for a different kind of prisoner work program. The inmates did a great job building my garage, and I can tell they've each benefited from accomplishing something worthwhile. It gave me the idea to have non-violent detainees perform work on the homes of the needy, strictly on a volunteer basis, of course. They could paint and make small repairs. It'd be a great way for them to give back to the community and help some folks in need. And to get around all the legal mumbo jumbo, I'm willing to take personal responsibility for all liability related to the inmates, as well as for the folks they do the work for."

The assembly broke into wild cheering and applause. Carly continued to stare icily at the sheriff as Jackie turned toward her. “Now does that sound like the plan of an evil totalitarian, Ms. Wrong?"

As laughter and jeers were immediately hurled Carly's way, Mayor Wright stepped forward and attempted to derail the runaway train of harassment rumbling toward his precious daughter. “I will be happy to except the sheriff's gracious invitation on my family's behalf so we can hear more about his interesting proposal. I've always been an avid supporter of community service. I believe it should be part of each and every criminal's sentencing."

Jackie Balsey looked unimpressed. “Well, maybe if your own daughter busied herself with a little community service instead of trying to tear the community down, we'd all be better off. Or is she getting her community service from you?” she asked, pointing at Rob and grinning lustily.

As Rob and the mayor both took threatening steps toward her, Sheriff Nagle moved forward and raised an arm in front of each seething protector. “Okay, this interview is now officially over. Ms. Balsey, you've stepped way over the line this time. I'll expect you to keep your assumptions and personal views out of this story when you go to print it, you hear? I know you write editorials, but since you seem to be so interested in building up the community, make sure you don't go tearing down any of these fine folks while you're doing it. From what I've seen, you've got no room criticizing Carly for the things she writes. Okay, everybody move on along now and enjoy the rest of your day."

As the crowd disappointedly dispersed, Jackie tossed her head and stalked away. Mayor Wright released a puff of frustration before casting a compassionate look at his daughter, whose face was buried in Deputy Coad's chest. She raised her head at the sound of Rob clearing his throat, her eyes immediately following his concerned gaze. Quickly scanning her approaching father's reddened face, she broke free from Rob's embrace and took off running across the baseball field as fast as she could run. Rob gave Mayor Wright an apologetic shrug before turning and giving chase.

Chuckling lightly, Sheriff Nagle strolled over to the downcast mayor and placed his hand on his shoulder. “Don't worry, Carl. Once we get this new community service project going and it's a big success, everybody will forget all about this little drama."

“I sure hope so, Saul. I'm worried about Carly, though. She's not equipped to handle this kind of abuse."

“Aw, she'll be all right,” Sheriff Nagle said, patting the mayor on the back. “My deputy will take good care of her."

“Yeah, that's what I'm afraid of,” Mayor Wright stated miserably, watching Rob finally catch up with his daughter out in left field.

Twenty-three

“Carly, wait,” Rob said, gently taking hold of her arm and bringing her panic-induced flight to a halt. “Where are ya goin'?"

“I don't know. I just have to get away from all these people,” she stated pleadingly, trying to catch her breath.

He nodded. “Okay. I know just the place.” Taking her hand, he jogged with her toward the playground.

There were very few children on the swings and seesaws since the Memorial Day celebration offered newer and more exciting activities. Rob trotted through the sandy dirt, leading Carly straight toward the giant slide located in the far corner of the playground. At the top of the slide was a small, enclosed tower where boys could pretend to battle evil dragons and girls could make like they were Rapunzel.

Rob allowed Carly to ascend first, following her up the steep ladder and then squeezing into the tower facing her. They both leaned back against the wall, huffing and puffing from their run and staring silently at one another. There were no words to express their feelings at having unwillingly played a part in an impromptu skit of horrors.

When Carly placed her head in her hands to release her tears, Rob's face contorted with sympathy and concern. “Carly, I'm so sorry. This is all my fault. I should've never asked you to come here with me today. I had no idea it'd all go down like this."

Shaking her head, she wiped away her eyes. “It's not your fault. It's mine. I don't know what made me think I could take on the likes of Sheriff Nagle and Jackie Balsey. They're heavyweight champions that everybody loves. I'm just the underdog that everybody loves to hate. Why can't these people see that I'm the one who's trying to save them?"

“Well ... Maybe they don't think they need saving, Carly. And even if they do, I doubt you're the person they think of when they picture a savior."

She looked down at her hands and nodded. “I never meant for it to get so out of hand, although I should've known it would. Now do you understand why I hid out in my room for so long?"

He reached out to gently stroke her hair. “Yeah, but I sure don't want you to go back to living like that again. It has to be a real bummer hanging out in a tower all alone, never leaving it unless you're chasing a tragic news story."

“Maybe so, but it keeps me away from the vultures that want to tear me and my family apart."

“It also keeps you away from living your life and spending time with the folks who really care about you."

“Then why can't they live their lives in the tower with me?” she asked with beseeching eyes.

“'Cause that's not really living, Carly. I can't stand the thought of somebody as wonderful as you wasting away in solitary confinement. I'm sorry this happened today, but please don't let it send you back into hiding. I promise I'll stay right by your side to look after you. I want to be the prince that saves you from that tower. Just let down your hair so I can climb on up to get you, okay? And please don't ask me to stay up there with you. I just can't do it."

She regarded him with doleful eyes. “But my dating you is part of the problem, not the solution to it. It's hurting your career and my father's. Everybody thinks I'm just using you. They think I've turned from an ice queen into a tramp just to get information about the sheriff. It wasn't fair for me to drag you into this mess. Maybe it'd be best if we stopped—"

“No! Don't you dare say it! We can work through all this."

Before she could reply, the fresh face of a curious little girl appeared in the doorway of the tower. She pulled herself up through the opening, barely fitting between the two adults that had rudely invaded Pretend World. Looking at Carly with concern, she tilted her blonde head to the side. “Why are you crying? Grown-ups ain't supposed to cry."

Carly quickly wiped away her tears. “Well, I reckon I ain't all the way grown-up yet,” she stated, unable to contain a chuckle.

Rob nodded in agreement.

“Well, you look all growed-up to me,” the little girl said with a shrug. “What are y'all doing up here, anyway? This tower's for kids."

“I reckon neither of us are all growed-up yet,” Rob replied, staring pleadingly into Carly's eyes. “But we're working on it."

The little girl frowned. “Are you the one who made her cry?"

“Well, kind of,” Rob answered, still gazing at Carly. “See, I'm just so crazy about her that I think I can protect her from everything. But the truth is I can't, and now she's been hurt because I brought her here today. Plus, she's having to pay for the mistakes I've made, and that's not fair. But I'm trying my best to make it right. If I could go back and undo it all, I would. The last thing I ever want to do is hurt her or make her cry. I hope she understands that."

The little girl looked at Rob then at Carly and frowned. “Ooh, y'all aren't fixing to kiss, are you? That's gross!” Hurrying to the opening, she paused and looked apprehensively down the endless slide.

“What's your name?” Rob asked the little girl, giving Carly a wink.

“My name's Shelby,” she replied, walking to the other side and staring down at the impossibly steep steps.

Rob reached out and took Carly by the hand. “Well, Shelby, you may want to look the other way, ‘cause I feel one of those gross kisses working its way to my lips. I may get plum carried away and give you a kiss, too."

“Ooh! No, you won't!” Shelby announced, bursting through their clasped hands and shooting herself down the slide without further hesitation.

Carly found herself laughing at Rob's victorious grin as he pulled himself over to her and gently wiped the remaining tears from her cheeks. Holding her face in his hands, he kissed her tenderly then looked at her as if searching for the right words. “It'll all be fine, Carly. It's just going to take a little time. You aren't gonna get rid of me that easy. Now, what do you say we forget all our troubles and swing a little?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows provocatively.

Carly rolled her eyes. “I think the thin air up here has gotten to your brain, Deputy Coad. Remember your promise?"

“Yeah, but you really do need to live a little,” he insisted, giving her a gentle push to send her down the slide and immediately following. Taking her by the hand, he led her to the large swing set, where he pushed her higher and higher until she laughed and squealed like a carefree child. When she'd received enough therapy, he allowed her to gradually pendulate down to a gentle sway while he sat in the adjacent swing watching her with mesmerized adoration. As her swing came to rest, she looked at him humbly. “Are you really sure you want all the trouble that comes along with me?"

His face broke into a wide grin. “Baby, if you walked around town leading Godzilla on a leash, I'd take him on just to be with you!"

As Carly laughed, he turned serious. “Look, I know I bring my share of trouble to the table, too. I'd like to apologize for not being stronger and waiting for you like I should have. I have no excuse other than inheriting my daddy's overabundance of ‘man power', as he likes to call it. Or maybe it's his lack of will power. Either way, I'm sorry, Carly. It's all my fault that everybody has the wrong idea about us."

“Yeah, but the rest of it's my fault. I'm sorry, too, Robby."

“Well, like I told Shelby, we're both working on getting all growed up, aren't we? I'm staying true to just one woman, and you're through investigating the sheriff.” When she looked away and bit her lip guiltily, he frowned. “Uh-oh. What are you up to now?"

“It's no big deal, really. I'm just keeping my eye on the sheriff, that's all. I'm not going to write any more editorials, but I can't just walk away from an investigative report. Especially when I'm convinced there's something very sinister going on around here. You know I can't do that."

“Hey, if it's possible for me to quit dating around, you can do this!” he insisted, standing. “Even after everything that happened to you today, you're still not ready to give up this crazy notion about Sheriff Nagle? He stood up for you out there!"

“Yeah, after making me look like an ingrate with his sarcastic apology and bogus invitation for dinner. He's not fooling me one bit with his insincere concern for the poor. It's just another ploy to get the people to believe he's on their side, and evidently it worked. One of these days I'm going to turn up something major he's done, and everybody's going to see that I was right all along."

Rob shook his head, squinting at her. “You're hopeless,” he said disappointedly, turning and stalking to the nearby merry-go-round.

Regret immediately tugged at Carly's heart as she watched him take hold of the metal bars and push with the fierce strength of frustration, thrilling the four children aboard with the fastest spin ever. Suddenly feeling like a complete failure in every area of her life, she had an inclination to run away again. Since her chief talent seemed to be alienating herself from every breathing creature that roamed the earth, she might as well save everyone the trouble by secluding herself from society forever.

Her brain suddenly filled with a vision of the future. She saw a tiny rundown house at the end of a dead end street. But why were those children throwing rocks at the windows and yelling cruel names? Ah, the insults must be meant for that figure just appearing at the window. It was her! It was Ms. Carly Wright, the lonely old spinster who had even been deserted by her nine cats...

Hopping up from the swing, Carly marched determinedly toward the merry-go-round, now spinning with centrifugal force. Rob gave one last mighty shove before turning to face his humble date, who looked at the ground as she spoke. “What you said was true, Robby. I am hopeless. Right now I'm completely out of hope. How can I hope to be a great journalist when everybody laughs at the articles I write? How can I hope that things will get better between Dad and me when he sees me as the only barrier standing between him and another term as mayor? What kind of future do I have in my own hometown, where I only have two real friends to speak of? And one of them isn't too happy with me right now! How can I believe that my relationship with you will work out when we already have so much working against us?

“I know I brought every bit of it on myself by writing those editorials, but I was just following my instincts and trying to help this town. I never dreamed people would want to burn me at the stake because of it. I am truly sorry it turned out like this, but I can't just let it go. I can't walk away from it any more than you can turn into a homebody and hide up in that tower with me. If you want to call this thing off right now, I'll understand. But I've got to tell you that it'll absolutely tear me up inside if you do."

An instant smile formed on Rob's lips at her surprising confession. “Would you consider trading your investigation of the sheriff for Godzilla on a leash? I think a giant, man-eating lizard would be a lot easier to deal with than this."

“I agree. And Godzilla would probably be less of a threat to this town, too."

“You really believe that, don't you?” he asked sympathetically, taking her by the hand and pulling her toward him.

“Actually, I think it'd be a pretty close race."

Rob brought the merry-go-round to a stop and lifted Carly onto the platform with the woozy yet giggling children. “Well, you do what you've got to do, Carly,” he said, pushing the merry-go-round as he ran alongside. “Maybe your investigation will show you that the sheriff's an all right guy. I know he's a little unconventional, but he's not an evil tyrant. And he's sure not a criminal. I knew going in that your opinion of him wouldn't magically change once we started dating. I'll deal with it like I always have. Just do me a favor and try to keep a low profile, okay? And please be careful."

“I will,” she promised, moving to the middle of the ride and taking a seat in the least dizzying space.

Rob continued to trot beside the merry-go-round, pushing it at a moderate speed. “So, it'd tear you up, if I decided this trial basis thing wasn't working out, huh?” he asked, wearing a smug grin.

She crossed her arms. “Yeah, I guess."

He picked up his pace. “Well, that sure didn't sound too convincing, Lois Lane. Super Man needs to hear you say it again. Tell me how crazy you are about me."

She rolled her eyes. “You don't need any help with that overblown ego of yours, Deputy Coad. You heard me the first time. That'll just have to do."

Running a little faster, he continued to whirl the merry-go-round. “Nope, I'm afraid that won't do at all. Say it again or I'll keep pushing ‘til your head's spinning and your world's turned upside down."

Carly closed her eyes and leaned back against the metal handrail. “Go right ahead. You can't get to me."

“Oh, I think I already have,” he stated self-assuredly, digging into the dirt and pushing the merry-go-round with all his might.

Carly closed her eyes tighter in an attempt to block out the flashes of sunlight filtering through the trees overhead. When it became obvious that the determined deputy had no intention of letting her off the hook, she decided to try a different approach. “Okay, Robby, that's enough. These poor kids are starting to turn green."

“No, we're not,” the youngest of the foursome insisted. “Spin it faster!"

“You heard him,” Rob said to his stubborn girlfriend, who had a death grip on the handrail. “It's your call, Carly."

She remained silent for a moment before taking yet another approach. “Please let me off of here, Robby. I'm feeling queasy."

“Hey, I'll be glad to let you off right now. All you've got to do is say what I want to hear."

“My opinion of you is dropping very fast, Deputy! Stop spinning this thing right now, before you fall completely out of my graces!"

He laughed. “Nope. I'm going to keep pushing ‘til you stop being afraid of telling me how you feel."

“Okay. How's this for telling you how I feel? I can't stand you right now!” she yelled above the sounds of laughing children.

“I don't believe it for a minute. You've really asked for it now,” he announced, giving the merry-go-round one last powerful thrust.

Carly held her head in her hands as her four co-riders cheered and begged for more. “No, Robby! Don't you dare do that again!"

“No problem. You know what you've got to do."

“Okay, okay! I'm crazy about you, all right? Now, get me off of this thing right now!"

The children moaned with displeasure.

“Sorry, kids, but a deal's a deal,” Rob said, taking hold of a metal bar and gradually slowing the merry-go-round while running beside it.

When the vertiginous ride finally ended, Carly remained seated, gently rocking back and forth with the rhythmic twirling inside her head. As the children staggered away, Rob climbed aboard the antiquated apparatus and kneeled beside her, holding her swimmy head to his chest. “Sorry about that, but you force me to take drastic measures sometimes. Now, was it really so hard to tell me how you feel?"

Slowly opening her eyes, she tried to focus on Rob's face. “No. But we're still in our trial basis stage. I don't think we should be saying stuff like that yet."

“Well, I've never been on board this trial basis nonsense, anyway. I'll tell you how I feel, whenever and wherever I want! In fact, I think I'll tell you right now. I'm crazy about you, too, Carly. I can't imagine how I made it all those years without you. You're the only woman I need in my life. Actually, I think you're the only woman I can handle in my life!"

“Well, that might all change tonight after Nicole gets her eager little paws on you."

Rob gasped and looked at his watch. “Man, I forgot all about that! We'd better head back over there and get a bite to eat before the square dance gets started. If you're still going, that is."

“You mean you're actually still thinking about participating? It's nothing but an idiotic scheme dreamed up by a bunch of lonely, desperate women. This is Memorial Day, not Sadie Hawkins Day! And how can you ask me to go back over there after what happened earlier?"

“Hey, you heard what they're going to do to guys that refuse to play along, didn't you? They're going to dress them up in Union garb and parade them around town! As the ancestor of several great Confederate soldiers, how am I supposed to allow something that atrocious to happen?"

Carly's incredulous countenance immediately dissolved. “You're right,” she said with realization. “I can't ask you to do that. Nobody should be put through that much humiliation."

Standing to his feet, he offered his hand. “Do you want me to take you home first?"

She hesitated. While the thought of enduring another verbal flogging terrified her, the thought of losing Robby was unbearable. Could she risk blindly handing him over to another woman? No. She needed to be present to remind him of their—"The trial basis is now over,” she blurted out, jumping up and throwing her arms around his neck.

“What?” he asked with a chuckle, enthusiastically returning her embrace. “Where did that come from all of a sudden? I just asked if you wanted me to take you home."

“Of course I don't want to go home! We're officially a couple now, and I wouldn't miss seeing you square dance for anything in the world."

“Baby, if you weren't already dizzy-headed, I'd spin you around and around right here and now!” Lifting her off the ground, he looked up into her face. “You've made me a very happy man! I never understood why you called it a trial basis in the first place. It sure feels like the real thing to me."

“Me, too,” she whispered in earnest but concerned that she'd acted rashly. “I just hope it's real enough to keep Nicole from stealing you away."

He laughed, still holding her in the air, his arms wrapped tightly around her waist. “Stop worrying about Nicole. She's an all right girl and all, but she's no Carly Wright. My Carly Wright!"

“Excuse me, Deputy? Let's get something straight right now. We may be official, but that doesn't mean I'm your possession or your plaything. Now put me down right this very minute."

“Sure,” he said softly, releasing his grip just enough to allow her body to slide along his until her feet reached the ground. “But let me just say that if you ever want me to be your possession or plaything, I don't have a problem with that at all!"

She rolled her eyes. “We're going to be late for your other date, Deputy Coad. And I want you to remember how tolerant I'm being next time some guy asks me to dance."

“Yeah, like that's ever going to happen,” he said with a chuckle. “What fool would ask you to dance when your boyfriend is insanely jealous and carries a gun?"

“Or for that matter, what fool would ask me to dance to begin with?” she stated dismally.

“This fool right here,” he said before leaning forward and giving her a gentle kiss. “You're not going to regret this, Carly."

“If we can make it through the rest of this day, I might just believe that."

Wrapping her arms tightly around his neck, she fought to ignore the disapproving glares hurled her way from arriving parents.

Twenty-four

While Carly sat at a picnic table with Wyatt, Rob stood in line at the concession stand, keeping a watchful eye on the woman he could finally call his girlfriend. Carly was glad they had spotted Wyatt in the crowd. Even though the big guy was not physically able to defend her, he could incapacitate even the most serious harasser with his sharp wit. He also had a knack for talking her down from the tower any time she showed signs of retreating.

When Rob arrived at the table bearing two large plates of pit-cooked barbeque, he found Carly smiling and laughing. Wyatt was entertaining her with a disparaging impression of Jackie Balsey, complete with fluttering eyelashes, grating voice, and invisible cigarettes in each of his flailing hands. Immediately switching back into himself at Rob's arrival, Wyatt shook hands with the deputy and congratulated him on luring Carly to a public gathering without having to call out the National Guard. After taking one look at the steaming heap of savory pork on Rob's plate, he excused himself and returned to the concession stand for a third time that evening.

When he arrived back at the table, the threesome enjoyed their meals and discussed every obvious topic other than Sheriff Nagle. As they slowly strolled toward the pavilion where the square dance was to take place, Carly spotted the man who had shared in her protest of the sheriff's standing ovation.

“Wyatt, do you know who that is?” she asked quietly, pointing toward the mystery man.

“Sure,” he answered with a laugh. “Maybe if you got out a little more, you'd know some of the folks in this town, too."

“So, who is he?” she asked impatiently, glancing up at Rob to check for signs of suspicion amid his chuckle.

“That's Mr. Benefield. You know, the guy whose son was found dead at the bottom of Milam's cliff a couple of years ago."

Carly stopped and stared at the man. “I remember reading about that in the paper ... Oh no!” she whispered in horror, causing her comrades to look at her with concern. “Wyatt, we have to go talk to him!"

“What for?” Rob asked with a frown, reaching out and stopping her beeline toward her newest obsession.

“I don't know,” she answered quietly, never taking her eyes from Mr. Benefield's face.

“Please tell me this isn't about the sheriff,” Rob pleaded wearily.

“That's what we have to find out,” Carly explained to Wyatt rather than her boyfriend.

Rob sighed. “Well, I can save you both a whole lot of time and trouble. Nat Benefield was mixed up in all kinds of criminal activity and it ended up getting him killed. That's pretty much the end of the story. The only way Sheriff Nagle is connected is that he arrested the guys who pushed Nat over the cliff—or caused him to jump. I feel sorry for Mr. Benefield. I don't think you two should be bothering him by dragging up the past with a bunch of questions. You sure don't need to make any more enemies tonight, Carly."

“But maybe he needs somebody to talk to about it."

“Well, you're not talking to him on my time,” Rob announced, taking her by the hand and resuming their journey toward the pavilion.

Carly instantly jerked her hand away. “Are we about to have our first official fight?” she asked, crossing her arms.

Wyatt quickly interceded. “Chill out, Carly. We can talk to Mr. Benefield another day. Right now, you've got Nicole nipping at your heels. You had better stay focused on holding on to your guy instead of driving him away with silly, pointless arguments. All men are not like your father. Some of us do what we do because we care about you, not because we're trying to control you."

“Well said,” Rob said to Wyatt as Carly looked at the ground.

After a moment of uncomfortable silence, she reached over and took Rob's hand back into hers. “I'm sorry, Robby. I don't want to drive you away."

He smiled down at his contrite date. “Baby, you may drive me crazy or drive me to drink, but the only way you'll drive me away is with an army tank. And even then it'd be a big chore!"

As Carly rolled her eyes and they continued on their way to the pavilion, Wyatt leaned over to whisper in her ear. “You were right. He does use lame, sappy lines!"

The pavilion was packed with a tired crowd that looked forward to sitting and enjoying a light-hearted square dance of The United Daughters of the Confederacy and their hostages. Rob, Carly, and Wyatt found three empty chairs on the very back row and quickly took a seat to avoid calling attention to themselves. Carly was surprised to see Rob fidgeting nervously. Typically he was the picture of coolness, especially in any situation involving women. But as he waited to be called on stage to join Nicole and the other participants, he rubbed his hands together as if to warm them, in spite of the fact that his palms, forehead, and upper lip were glistening with perspiration.

When Ruthie Kline, mistress of ceremonies, introduced Nicole to the crowd and called for Deputy Rob Coad to report to the stage, he blew out a mouthful of air before giving Carly a quick peck on the cheek. Rising from his seat, he walked slowly toward the front like a man being lead to the gallows.

As the name of the next lucky hostage was announced, Rob marched onto the stage, walking right past his dance partner to whisper into the ear of Ruthie Kline. Carly and Wyatt looked at one another questioningly as Ruthie peered at Rob over her reading glasses, pulling him aside for an animated discussion and leaving the microphone deserted and uncomfortably silent. Just as impatient shouts and whistles began to filter through the crowd, Rob turned away from Ruthie and took center stage in front of the microphone. “Hey, everybody. Sorry for the delay,” he said, stopping to clear his throat. “This'll only take a second of your time."

As the room fell silent other than a rumble of whispered speculations, Carly slid down in her seat and waited for Rob to scold the entire town on her behalf.

“What's he up to?” Wyatt whispered with an eager grin.

Carly shrugged and shook her head as Rob answered Wyatt's question for her.

“I know there's a severe punishment for the guy who's crazy enough to turn down the invitation to dance with one of these lovely ladies up here, but I'm afraid I've got to bow out on this one. Sorry, Nicole. It's nothing against you. You're a very beautiful, sweet girl. It's just that my heart belongs to someone really special, and I'm trying to prove to her that I can be faithful."

A collective female gasp sounded as he continued.

“Now I know that square dancing is harmless, innocent fun, but I want to show my girlfriend that I'm willing to withstand the worst punishment imaginable just to prove how loyal I am to her. I'll admit this is a crazy way to prove myself, but sometimes it takes extreme measures to overcome an extremely bad reputation. Fellas, go ahead and do what you've got to do."

As the crowd booed and yelled, “Traitor!", fully uniformed Sons of Confederate Veterans rushed the stage. They grabbed the resolute deputy by the arms, shoving them into the sleeves of a dusty, tattered jacket that once belonged to a despised member of the Union forces. Carly's hands flew to her mouth, and she gasped in horror when the faded blue hat was placed on her boyfriend's head.

Wyatt slapped his knee and chuckled with delight when Nicole ran from the stage on the swift feet of humiliation, straight into her mortified mother's arms. When Tyler Jackson pivoted in his seat and shamed Carly for turning a fine, upstanding Southerner into a turncoat Yankee lover, Wyatt's laughter quickly ceased. “Clothes don't make the man, Tyler. In your case, DNA doesn't even make the man!

Even in her state of shock, Carly found herself laughing when Tyler turned back around in a huff.

Rob stood silently on stage, his head held high in spite of the booing and name-calling. When someone in the audience echoed Tyler's sentiments, shouting out that the mayor's daughter was directly to blame for Rob's treason, he couldn't remain silent. “Hold on, now, folks. I made the decision to take this punishment all on my own. Everybody here knows I would never actually turn my back on the South for any reason. This is just a game,” he said, pointing at the dusty uniform. “What I have with Carly is for real. If I have to, I'll wear this Yankee uniform forever to keep from messing that up."

Even louder boos ensued and the entire crowd chanted, “Traitor, Traitor", causing Ruthie Kline to flip furiously through her program in search of emergency procedures. When none could be found, she looked helplessly toward the other Daughters of the Confederacy for assistance. Marlene Duffy, Vice President and jilted high school sweetheart of Carl Wright, calmly took the stage and Ruthie's clipboard after asking the flustered chairwoman to fetch Sheriff Nagle.

As Ruthie hurried away, Marlene took charge. “Okay, everyone, let's not forget why we're all here. We have plenty of gentlemen who are eager to dance with our fine ladies this evening. So if our soldiers will please remove this renegade from our midst, we'll all be able to enjoy tonight's entertainment.” Marlene placed a hand over the microphone to address one of the soldiers. “Make sure you find Carly Wright and get her out of here, too. Poor Nicole's liable to start a catfight with her and turn this thing into an all-out wrestlin’ match!"

The soldiers didn't have to search the crowd for Carly. As soon as Rob was escorted past her row, she and Wyatt followed right behind, ignoring insults and dodging crumpled paper cups that were heaved their way. Rob was led through the park, enduring further disgrace and mockery from shocked onlookers, never retaliating unless a derogatory comment was made about Carly. No one could believe that a true Southerner would allow the detestable blue fatigues to defile his personage, even though the majority of the women in the crowd admitted to being deeply touched by Rob's romantic gesture.

When the mob arrived at the gate entrance, a lively discussion broke out as to what course of action should be taken next. The suggestions ranged from a severe posterior kicking to a public hanging to dusting off the stockade and placing both Rob and Carly in it for a week or two. Since the soldiers feared the legal repercussions accompanying the assault of a police deputy, they quickly decided that Rob would be tied to the gate so the entire town could ridicule him when they left the park at the close of the evening.

During a suggestion from Nicole's father that they also tie Carly to the gate alongside her turncoat boyfriend, a squad car pulled up next to the curb, its headlights illuminating the surprised faces of the posse. The car door opened and Sheriff Nagle stepped out, causing the clan to fall silent and Carly and Wyatt to shrink back into the shadows. As the sheriff surveyed the scene, scratching his chin thoughtfully, Rob's face displayed both relief and dismay.

“So, what are you boys planning to do to my deputy?” Sheriff Nagle asked, strolling among the throng then coming to rest face-to-face with Rob.

It would've been possible to hear a bird feather hit the ground had one fallen during the long pause that followed. Sheriff Nagle spit a stream of tobacco juice on the ground before addressing the crowd again. “Would somebody like to answer my question or are y'all going to stand around like a bunch of deaf and dumb idiots all night?"

Marlene Duffy's husband stepped forward. “We weren't going to do anything to him, Sheriff. We're just having a little fun and teasing the boy, that's all."

“That's what I thought,” Sheriff Nagle said before turning to Rob. “Son, take that Union garb off right this minute. It turns my stomach to see you dressed like that."

“Yes, sir.” Rob quickly removed the hat and jacket and handed them to the nearest bystander.

Sheriff Nagle turned his attention back to the crowd. “Okay, we've had our fun and now it's over. Let's all move along and get back to our families. Someone may want to check on Rob's daddy. If the poor man witnessed his son in that Yankee uniform, he's probably had a heart attack by now."

As the crowd dispersed, Carly seized the opportunity, as well as Wyatt's thick arm. “Now's your chance to get out of here,” she whispered into his ear.

“Are you sure?” he asked quietly. “I'll be glad to stick around and do what I can to help."

“No. There's no reason for you to be dragged into this. Get out of here."

“Thanks, Carly. I love you,” he whispered, giving his friend a split second hug.

“I love you, too. Now run!” she commanded, giving him a gentle shove toward the darkened pathway leading to the playground.

As he trotted away, Carly stepped forward and took her place next to Rob, who was waiting silently with the sheriff for all civilian ears to depart the scene. Sheriff Nagle's crooked smile revealed his delight at having the opportunity to make yet another move in the intellectual chess game the mayor's daughter had started. “Well, well, well ... Ain't this just the picture of true devotion,” he said, circling the couple like a hungry jackal. “In all my living days, I don't think I've ever seen two people whose brains have turned to pure mush from love sickness like y'all's has. Carly, what in the world would make you tag along with a lynch mob that's blaming you for this fiasco?"

“I was worried about Robby,” she stated without hesitation.

A loud guffaw escaped the sheriff's lips. “And just what'd you think you could do about it if they decided to hurt our boy?"

She squinted at him with annoyance. “I would've thought of something,” she stated defensively.

“No you wouldn't have,” Sheriff Nagle said with a chuckle. “There hasn't been one logical thought generated between the two of you since the moment you got together. You would've been tarred and feathered right along with Deputy Dimwit here."

Rob closed his eye momentarily with an expression of embarrassment. “Sir, can I please expl—"

“Explain what?” Sheriff Nagle asked angrily. “As I recall, I told you to keep a low profile when you and Carly are together. Is this what you call staying out of the public eye?"

“No, sir, but—"

“Save it, Deputy! I want you in my office first thing in the morning. We'll discuss it then."

“Yes, sir,” Rob said quietly, taking Carly by the hand and turning to leave.

“Hold on, you two lovebirds,” Sheriff Nagle commanded impatiently. “I'm not finished with y'all just yet. I was hoping to talk Carly into accepting my invitation to a cookout."

Rob looked down at her nervously. “I'm sorry, but I'm not available that night,” she informed the sheriff politely.

Sheriff Nagle frowned. “I never said what night I'm having it."

“The date is irrelevant,” she said with a sarcastic smile.

“Hmm ... Well, you might want to clear your schedule. I was thinking we could invite the press over to do a little story about how you and I have settled our differences. They could take a couple of snapshots of us shaking hands and smiling, kind of like your daddy does all the time. It'd be a great way to show the town that we're friends and maybe undo some of the damage you've inflicted on yourself and your poor ol’ daddy. It might just help keep your boyfriend out of hot water, too."

Carly's mouth dropped open. “What is this, blackmail?” she asked heatedly. “Are you saying that if I show up at your house, you're not going to yell at Robby tomorrow?"

“No,” Sheriff Nagle answered with a smile. “The yelling's definitely a'comin'. But if you're willing to help correct this unfortunate situation, then maybe Rob won't have to spend as many days sitting behind a desk doing paperwork."

“What?” Rob asked with a creased brow. “You're giving me a desk assignment?"

“Well, I can't exactly have you out on the streets when the whole county thinks you're a traitor, now can I, Son? That'd be putting you in a potentially dangerous situation. But if Carly will just give a little and try to smooth things over, this'll die down a whole lot quicker. Then we can all get back to our normal routines."

Rob looked down at Carly, who stared at the sheriff as if he'd struck her across the face. “This isn't fair,” she stated quietly. “I can't do it."

“That's okay, baby,” Rob whispered, placing his arm around her waist and pulling her to him.

“Let me get this straight,” Sheriff Nagle said with a frown. “Rob here has lowered himself lower than low by putting on a Yankee uniform and about getting himself hanged for you, but you can't help him out by simply enjoying a nice dinner with your family and friends? Hmm. Well, it's your call, I reckon. I'll see you bright and early in the morning, Deputy."

As Carly watched Sheriff Nagle slither to his car, her aversion for him doubled. How dare he portray her as selfish and coldhearted in front of her boyfriend? She knew Robby understood her difficult position and wouldn't expect her to participate in the political games she despised, but the sheriff's words stirred up unexpected feelings of guilt.

While she scoured her brain for a possible compromise, a picture of another deputy flooded her consciousness, quickly changing her guilt over to terror. The picture was of Deputy Hollis Dupree. It was the same picture that had appeared next to his death announcement. Deputy Dupree had angered the Sheriff Nagle just like Robby had. He had also been given a desk assignment because of it. The end of his story involved Deputy Handley's gun and an alleged shooting accident—"Wait!” Carly shouted at the sheriff, causing Rob's attention to whip toward her. “What if I print a retraction for every article and editorial I've ever written about you?"

Sheriff Nagle turned around to face her, wearing a suppressed grin. “And destroy my reputation? That's not what I'm after,” he said, sweeping his eyes down her frame, his lustful gaze screened in the dark of the night.

She sighed with frustration as Rob stepped forward. “It's all right, Carly,” he insisted with a whisper. “Let's just get out of here."

“No!” she whispered back desperately. “I'm afraid for you."

“Afraid? Of what? The worst that may happen is I get a paper cut. There's no way you can spend an evening with the sheriff and your daddy and have it printed up like you're one big happy family. Now, let's go before things get any worse."

“If I don't do this, things could get a whole lot worse,” she whispered before turning her attention back to the sheriff. “Just let me know the date, and I'll be there."

“No, she won't,” Rob said firmly, taking her by the hand and pulling her toward the parking lot.

“Yes, I will,” Carly shouted to the sheriff as Rob walked even faster.

As Rob loudly disputed her attendance again, the sheriff snickered. “We'll discuss it in the morning, Deputy,” he barked at the scurrying couple.

“Yes, sir!” Rob yelled over his shoulder, running to his vehicle and pulling Carly along with him.

As Sheriff Nagle pulled out of his parking spot, the couple stood next to Rob's car catching their breath and looking silently at one another. Without warning, Rob let out an angry huff before pounding a fist on top of the car then kicking one of his tires. “The sheriff's right. I am a dimwit! I thought I was doing something really cool, but it's just made things worse for you. Plus, I'm going to be stuck behind a desk for no telling how long. I didn't think this thing all the way through. I am so stupid!"

“No, you're not,” Carly said, wrapping her small hands around his arm. “What you did was extremely cool. And I'm going to do whatever it takes to get you out of trouble as soon as possible."

“No way, Carly. I brought this on myself, and I'm going to take the heat for it. I'm sure I'll get chastised pretty good tomorrow, but Sheriff Nagle's just protecting me by putting me in the office."

“No he isn't! He's using you to get back at me, and I'm not going to stand for it! I hate to give in to his blackmail, but if I have to pretend to be his best buddy from now ‘til eternity, I'll do it to keep you out from under his wrath."

Rob became immediately calmer. “That's very sweet of you, baby. But I'm not going to let you sell your soul for my benefit. I may lose my ever-loving mind sitting at that desk, but at least I'll know you're being true to yourself."

“Well, that's sweet of you, too, Robby. But how many times do I have to tell you that I'm not your possession? If I decide to have dinner with two men I can't stand, I'll do it, and there's nothing you can do to stop me!"

Closing his eyes, he rubbed his forehead. “Man, I wished I hadn't pulled that stupid stunt tonight! Now, you're going to go and do something just as stupid, and it's all my fault."

She shook her head and looked up at him with adoring eyes. “Robby, what you did tonight was amazing. It was horrible and wonderful all at the same time. I can't imagine a more selfless, romantic way to prove your commitment to me, and I will never forget it as long as I live. I can't believe you actually put on a Union uniform. Talk about selling your soul for a cause! I just want to do the same for you."

Appearing spellbound by her words, he reached out to take her hand. “I didn't put on that uniform just to prove myself to you. I did it to show the whole town that this is not just another fling for me. I'm tired of everybody thinking the worst about us. I wanted to show them that I really have changed. I had another reason, too..."

He swallowed with great difficulty then stared at the ground for several seconds. “I did it ‘cause I ... Well ... ‘cause I ... Um ... ‘Cause I love you, Carly!"

Rob looked if he had revealed a secret formula that could end civilization, and yet she didn't feel astonished or shocked. “Yeah, I know, Robby,” she said softly, wearing an uneasy smile.

He let out a puff of relieved air. “Of course you do. It's not like it's a big secret or anything. Why was I thinking you'd be surprised to hear it? I guess it's a big deal for me ‘cause I've never said it to a woman before, other than my mother, that is. I'm not one of those guys that throw that word around just to get what I want. I promised myself long ago that I wouldn't say it unless I really meant it. I guess in that respect I did save myself for you."

Carly's smile widened yet she remained uncomfortably silent.

He waited a few more seconds before continuing. “Well, I know we've just become official today, and we haven't been going out all that long, but it's not like we just met or anything. We've known each other forever, and I've had these strong feelings for you for years. Even though you wouldn't go out with me for so long, I knew you were the one from the start. I can't tell you how happy you make me, and—"

“Robby,” she said in a sympathetic whisper that stopped his babbling immediately. “I need a little more time."

His face collapsed into a frown of rejection but immediately rebounded into an understanding nod. “Sure you do,” he said with a nonchalant wave of the hand. “I didn't expect you to say it back to me. You're still getting used to the idea of us being together. I'm not trying to rush you or anything. I just wanted to let you know how I feel, although you and the rest of Plitesville already knew it. Hey, nothing like stating the obvious, huh?"

Snickering at his uncharacteristic humbleness, she took his wringing hands into hers. “Thank you for tonight, Robby. You've left me completely speechless."

“Wow! Now, that's an accomplishment. If I can make you stay that way, our problems might just blow over faster than a tornado! What are the odds of me talking you into skipping that dinner with Sheriff Nagle?"

“About as great as the odds of me not kissing you right now.” Placing her hand against his chest, she gently pushed him back against his vehicle.

“And what if I refuse to participate?” he asked with a feigned aloofness, turning his head away as she stood on her tiptoes and wrapped her arms around his neck.

“Let's just see you try,” she dared him, softly kissing his throat then working her way up toward his lips.

Sheriff Nagle shook his head and shifted his car into drive as he watched the lengthy kiss through his windshield. “Lucky stiff,” he muttered, slowly pulling his vehicle behind Rob's with his headlights darkened.

Rolling down the window, he watched the impassioning scene for a few more moments before calling out to his employee. “Hey, Deputy! Is that what you call keeping a low profile?"

“No, sir! Sorry, sir,” Rob stated quickly, scrambling to open his car door for Carly before sliding in next to her.

After Sheriff Nagle turned on his headlights and pulled away, Rob threw his car into gear and drove Carly straight to the dorm, giving her a quick kiss then dropping her off at the curb.

Twenty-five

Someone in the dormitory slid a copy of The Plitesville Sentry under Carly's door long before she awoke the day following the eventful Memorial Day celebration. Even in her state of morning fogginess, she spotted the larger than usual newspaper immediately since the anonymous donor had scrawled the words, “Yankee-lover Go Home", with a thick, red marker across the front page. Taking short, rapid sips of coffee, she scanned the paper from front to back, finding her name printed in at least one disparaging article or editorial on every single page.

Jackie Balsey had been particularly unkind in her feature. She stated that while it was disturbing to think that a sheriff's deputy would provide aid and comfort to the enemy, it was reassuring to know that the enemy would soon be tossed aside just like the rest of the deputy's ex-trollops.

As Carly read the remainder of Jackie's malicious ramblings, she developed a renewed wave of guilt over her own editorials. Even though she believed that every one of her stories gave an accurate account, there remained a fraction of a chance that she was wrong, and that small fraction placed her on an even lower plain than the vicious Ms. Balsey. At least Jackie based her opinions on factual happenings, not on hearsay and urban legends. She also never wrote anything that could harm her own loved ones.

As Carly closed the newspaper and stared dismally at the picture of Robby plastered on the front page with the caption, “Traitor in Uniform", typed underneath, she vowed never to write another editorial as long as she lived. Until an actual news story presented itself, the pages of her trusty notepad would remain blank.

In addition to her fear that harm would befall Robby because of her carelessness, Carly wondered if she had completely destroyed her father's career. In spite of their estranged relationship and her abhorrence for the political scene as a whole, she never intended to sabotage his life-long dream or disgrace the Wright name.

Her blameful thoughts reminded her that she would soon be spending an entire evening with both her father and the vile snake Plites County had elected sheriff. Picturing the event still caused her to cringe however she knew she had no choice. Since Robby refused to heed her pleas to transfer to another department, her only option was to participate in the sheriff's depraved game and pray for her boyfriend's safekeeping, as well as her own. She also prayed that her sacrificial act would convince the fickle voters that her father was worthy of reelection come the end of his first term.

Wyatt arrived at Carly's door promptly at noon as they had discussed the previous night. Carrying a large pepperoni pizza and an attitude of encouragement, he entered her dorm room and immediately commandeered her copy of The Sentry.

“One day we'll be in charge around here, and we'll turn this paper back into a source of information instead of a gossip rag,” he stated with true conviction, using the newspaper as a trivet for the pizza box.

“Well, I haven't exactly been a responsible journalist myself lately,” she stated humbly, dodging his playful swipes at her hand as she picked pepperonis from the pizza.

“Hey, we all have to learn from our mistakes. But these so-called professionals should know better. I've never read such a bunch of slanted malarkey in all my life. And the sad part is that it's being passed off as the news. You'd think the world had come to an end just ‘cause a Southerner put on a blue uniform and refused to square dance! If folks around here would get that riled up over the real problems of this town, maybe you and I wouldn't have to be putting ourselves in danger and causing your father and Rob so much grief. By the way, have you talked to Rob since his meeting with the sheriff?"

“Yeah, he called me about an hour ago. He tried to pretend like it was no big deal, but I could tell he'd had a good chewin’ out. He sounded real bummed. After I hung up talking to him, I called the sheriff's secretary and left a message that I'd definitely attend the cookout. I honestly don't know how I'm going to deal with it. But I have to, for Robby's sake."

Wyatt nodded understandingly. “So I reckon you've decided you kind of like the deputy a little, huh?"

She set down her piece of pizza and stared at it with a serious expression. “He told me he loved me last night, Wyatt. I lay awake thinking about it half the night, and I'm pretty sure I feel the same way about him."

“Wow. That's great, Carly."

“No it isn't! Why did I have to fall in love with someone who works for the sheriff's department? How can we have a future together when there's this huge obstacle standing in our way? Unless something happens to change one of our opinions about Sheriff Nagle, I don't think this relationship can go anywhere. I'm kind of hoping that spending time with the sheriff will help me believe that I've been wrong about him, but I really doubt that's going to happen. That means I have to try even harder to prove that I'm right, which in turn could cause Robby and me even more problems! Not to mention what it'll do to my father's career.

“And on top of all that, neither of my parents can stand Robby. His parents absolutely despise me, and I'm sure his public display of treason for my sake has only made it worse. Please tell me how this is supposed to have a happy ending."

“Because true love always wins out in the end. If what y'all have is the real thing—and I personally believe it is—then as the great Ashford and Simpson once said: ‘There ain't no mountain high enough ... You know the rest, right? Or do I need to strike up the band and sing it for you?"

She chuckled. “Been listening to the oldies station again, huh, Wyatt? Well, I'm afraid I've discovered a mountain that's higher than any either Ashford or Simpson ever climbed. I didn't tell Robby that I feel the same way about him, and I don't think I will unless something drastically changes. It doesn't seem fair to tell a guy you love him when it could all end at any moment. I wish he hadn't said it to me. It'll only make it hurt that much worse when this thing blows up and he decides I'm more trouble than I'm worth."

“Ain't gonna happen. Rob's been in love with you for years. If he hasn't wised up by now, he's a lost cause."

Her distressed frown softened into a playful scowl. “Why is it that your words of encouragement always come out sounding a whole lot like insults?"

“Hey, what are friends for?” he asked with a shrug, helping himself to another slice of pizza. “Look, Carly, I'm by no means an expert on relationships, especially since I've never had one, but as a professional observer of both successful and failed unions, I can say with confidence that you and Rob have just as good a shot at making it as anybody else. The fact that both of you are willing to set aside your pride and put yourselves in unbelievably awkward situations for each other shows me that you've got the real deal. You really should tell him how you feel."

“I can't,” she insisted, shaking her head rapidly.

“Why not? You sure didn't have any trouble saying it to me last night."

“That's different. It's easy to tell a friend you love them. Friendship doesn't come with all the insane emotions like a romance does. It's a lot less complicated. The stakes aren't nearly as high."

“Oh, you really think so, huh? Well, as I see it, somebody like you will always have guys falling in love with you. How many true friends do you think you'll have in this lifetime?"

She thought a moment then frowned with sudden realization. “You and Robby are the only real friends I have anymore. I wouldn't want to mess that up for anything in the world. But now Robby and I have moved beyond friendship. If we get too involved and it doesn't work out, I'll probably lose his friendship forever. Until I feel fairly certain that we can work through our problems, I'd rather keep how I feel to myself. If I tell him I love him, it'll only cause harder feelings if we break up."

Wyatt contemplated her words while he finished chewing his pizza. “Yeah, maybe you're right. Beside, if you're not ready to say it, then you shouldn't say it. Too many folks throw the ‘L’ word around these days like it's no big deal. I think most people are confused about what it really means. I'm convinced that you and Rob know what love's all about, but there's no harm in taking your time and being sure. Now, if you're through rubbing your relationship in the face of this poor, lonely, fat guy, we need to talk about our undercover investigation. I should be so lucky as to have your problems!"

Carly gave him a sympathetic frown before leaning over and hugging him. “Don't worry. One day you'll fall in love, and when you do, I hope she realizes how lucky she is to have you. Thanks for being there for me."

He smiled mischievously. “Hey, I'm only your friend because I feel sorry for you. You thin, beautiful people don't stand a chance in this world. Now, enough of this heartwarming drivel. Let's get on with why I'm really here, all right?"

Carly was ready to set aside the pizza and head straight over to Mr. Benefield's house. She'd been dying of curiosity ever since the mystery man joined her in her silent protest of Sheriff Nagle's standing ovation. Wyatt quickly advised against the visit. It was likely that Mr. Benefield's grievance had something to do with the death of his son, and since the young man was the same age as Carly when he died, Wyatt felt the encounter would only pour oil on her fire of contempt.

“Let's at least wait until after you've had dinner with the sheriff before we visit Mr. Benefield. Why submit yourself to another tragic story that'll only get you mad at him all over again? There's no need in making things harder than they have to be. In fact, why don't we put our plan on hold until after the cookout?"

She readily agreed and found out the very next day that they would not have to put their plan on hold very long. Her mother called to inform her that the cookout would take place on Friday evening, only five days away. Amy's voice expressed elation at the prospect of a reunion, and she begged Carly to forgive her father so they could return to the closeness they once shared. Carly tried to keep her emotions in check but found herself becoming immediately defensive.

“Mom, I'd be glad to forgive Dad if he asked for my forgiveness. After Jackie Balsey wrote that first article about me, I apologized to him for all the trouble I'd caused, but he didn't seem too interested in forgiving me. All he wanted to do was get me back home where he could control me again. I'll try my best to be civil, but don't get your hopes up for things to be like they were before. I only agreed to go to this ridiculous cookout for Robby's sake. If it helps fix Dad's problems, too, that's fine. But until he's ready to take responsibility for his part in this falling-out, I don't have anything to say to him. Oh, and by the way, Robby won't be there, so tell Dad he can leave his crazed father persona at home!"

In keeping with the sheriff's orders to lay low, Rob and Carly spent their time together the following week sitting on the sofa in the dormitory den. When Friday afternoon rolled around, Rob dropped by again for a short visit before Carly's formidable outing at Sheriff Nagle's house. He arrived prepared with fresh lines that were sure to distract her from her extreme tenseness. When his best attempts failed to produce the usual roll of the eyes, he tried to talk her into staying home and forgetting the idea of selling out for his sake. Even though her stomach felt as if a troop of boy scouts had been using it for slipknot practice, she would not be dissuaded.

Ironically, the same intense fear that reaped havoc on her nerves also gave her the courage to face her father and Sheriff Nagle. If she could prevent Robby from suffering the same fate as the late Deputy Dupree, then nothing could keep her from attending that cookout.

Rob gazed at Carly as she stared straight ahead, lost in her gloomy thoughts. Smiling and taking her face into his hands, he kissed her sweetly then once again proclaimed his love for her aloud.

“Robby, please don't say that,” she pleaded, hopping up from the sofa and removing her keys from her purse.

“Why not?” he asked, following her as she retreated into the hallway. “I don't expect you to say it back."

Stopping when she reached the door, she turned around to face him. “Just don't,” she ordered quietly before looking at her watch and giving him another quick kiss. “I've got to go. I'll call you when I get home."

“Okay. Please be careful. And try not to say too much,” he called out as she walked briskly to her car.

“Who me?” she shouted playfully, unlocking her car door. Hesitating briefly, she looked up and gave him a reassuring smile before taking a seat behind the wheel to make her journey of self-betrayal.

Twenty-six

The host had made it very clear that Rob was not on the guest list for the cookout. Sheriff Nagle was already concerned that a domestic dispute might break out between father and daughter, and the last thing needed was an over-protective boyfriend thrown into the mix. Since a newspaper reporter would be present at some point during the evening, the sheriff had to ensure that the atmosphere remained as peaceful as possible.

He also felt Rob's presence would make it appear that Carly was attending as the deputy's date rather than as a broken and contrite citizen seeking the sheriff's forgiveness. In spite of his lust for her and his unrealistic desire to find like favor in her eyes, he couldn't miss out on an opportunity to bring a disobedient rebel down a few notches. Maybe a little discipline is just what she needs. Maybe it's what she truly desires from a man—

The ringing doorbell brought him out of his daydream.

* * * *

“I'll bet that's your daughter, now,” the sheriff said to the Wrights, causing them to look at one another with a mixture of hopefulness and apprehension.

Upon opening the door, he was greeted with the iciest glare he'd ever received from someone he wasn't arresting. “Well, if it ain't my favorite reporter.” Smiling, he stepped aside to allow the voiceless Carly to enter.

The sheriff's wife appeared from the kitchen to greet their guest before quickly returning to her post. Carly's father and mother had both risen from the sofa when their daughter entered the room, but only Amy stepped forward to embrace her and tell her how much she was missed. Mayor Wright stood aside, staring at the hardwood floor until his wife elbowed him and nodded in Carly's direction. With much hesitation, he turned his agitated gaze from his wife to his only child, slowly extending his hand as if she were a mere acquaintance. “Carly,” he said with nod. “How've you been?"

Carly regarded his hand with a mirrored expression of irritation yet shook it anyway. “I've been better. And you?"

“The same.” Mayor Wright pulled his hand away and gave his wife an “I told you this was a bad idea” look.

Sheriff Nagle chuckled as he walked to the sliding glass door. “Well, now that it's been established that we've all been better, let's see if we can't figure out how to make things good again. Carl, why don't you and Carly step out here on the porch and we'll have ourselves a little powwow? I think the sooner we get everything out in the open, the sooner we can all relax and enjoy the evening."

As the mayor walked to the door, Carly looked at her mother and frowned. “What's going on, Mom? I didn't come here to get involved in a group discussion! Or to be ganged up on by those two! There's no way I'm going out there and—"

“It's okay, sweetheart,” Amy said soothingly. “Your dad and the sheriff just want to come up with a game plan for when the reporter gets here. They want to make sure tonight doesn't turn into another interview like y'all had with Jackie Balsey. Your father always meets with his staff before an interview, remember?"

“Yeah, I remember. That's where his assistant feeds him pleasant sounding quotations so he can evade any subject they throw at him. I guess they're going to give me a script to go by so I don't mess this one up, huh? Man, I hate this kind of prefabricated, Hollywood-type news story!"

“I know, honey,” Amy said, stroking her daughter's hair. “We all have to do things we don't like sometimes, especially when we're related to somebody in office. Just go out there and be yourself. And remember; you're not just the mayor's daughter; you're Carly Wright!"

Carly's raised eyebrows indicated that she understood. “Thanks, Mom,” she said with a smile, pulling away and walking out the door to face her judge and jury.

Sheriff Nagle manned the grill while Mayor Wright watched from the built-in bench seat. Folding his arms across his chest, the mayor gave his daughter a look of discontent while the sheriff smiled at her pleasantly. “How do you like your steak cooked, Carly?” Sheriff Nagle asked when she leaned against the railing just outside the door.

“Well done,” she answered curtly, drumming her fingers impatiently on the wooden beam.

Sheriff Nagle nodded and smiled. “Figures. You like to overdo everything, don't you?"

“No. I just don't have a taste for blood like some folks do."

“Carly!” Mayor Wright said with a look of angry embarrassment. “You are a guest in this man's home. Show a little respect, for Pete's sake!"

“It's okay, Carl,” Sheriff Nagle said, flipping the steaks leisurely. “Carly's always welcome to speak her mind freely around me. I find her opinion very interesting. And her articles sure haven't hurt my approval rating either. We just have to figure out a way to keep them from hurting yours."

Carly spoke up quickly, cutting the mayor off short. “That won't be a problem anymore. I'm through writing editorials about you. I realize now that it was a big mistake."

“No kidding?” Sheriff Nagle chuckled. “I thought you were only here to get that boyfriend of yours back into my good graces. You've really decided I'm not such a bad guy after all?"

Carly glanced at her father's hopeful expression before returning her narrowed eyes back to the sheriff. “My opinion hasn't changed one bit. I'm just not going to share it with the public anymore without proper proof."

“So you're still looking for proof, then?” Sheriff Nagle asked disappointedly.

She bit her lip thoughtfully and decided to use the political method of evasion she'd learned so well from her father. “A good reporter always keeps her eyes open for a news story."

Obviously recognizing his own technique, Mayor Wright lost a grip on the small amount of patience to which he'd been clinging. Jumping to his feet, he stalked toward his daughter with eyes of desperate fury and a pointing finger. “When are you going to get it through your thick skull that you're not a real reporter, Carly? Why can't you stick to writing stories about the injustice of homework or whatever foolish complaints you kids have these days?"

She rolled her eyes as he continued.

“Sheriff Nagle's been kind enough to invite you to dinner even after you've gone out of your way to slander him at every turn. But you still march in here with your holier than thou attitude and treat him with total disrespect. He's been trying to keep this conversation fair and balanced. He's even given you a chance to have your say. But as of this minute, your right to speak has been revoked! You will listen to my instructions without piping in with a smart comment, and you will do as I say!"

Pursing her lips and crossing her arms, she met his challenging glare.

“Now, here's how it's going to be: When the reporter gets here, the first thing you're going to do is apologize to the sheriff. And make it sincere! Then you're going to smile real big for the camera and shake hands with him. Lastly, you're going to excuse yourself and leave before you say something stupid. Got it?"

Carly continued to stare at her father with eyes of indignation and remained silent.

“I asked if you've got it! Answer me this minute!"

She shrugged innocently. “But you said my right to speak had been revoked. I'm not real clear on which order I should follow."

As the sheriff snickered under his breath, Mayor Wright rolled his eyes impatiently. “Answer my question then don't say anything else. Is that clear enough for you?"

“Yes, sir, Mayor, sir,” she answered with a salute before turning to the sheriff. “Just when is that reporter getting here?"

“He won't be here ‘til eight so I'm afraid you two will have to put up with each other a little while longer.” Placing the steaks on a platter, he handed it to Carly. “Give these to Mavis and tell her to get dinner on the table right now."

Carly took the platter, literally biting her lip to keep from making a comment about the sheriff's lordly treatment of his wife. Luckily, she didn't have to pass along his message because the table was already set, and Carly's mother was assisting Mrs. Nagle in bringing the remainder of the food from the kitchen. “So how'd it go?” Amy asked Carly quietly.

“Great. I've been commanded not to speak the rest of the evening, which I have no problem with whatsoever,” she announced loudly as her father entered the dining room.

Amy shot her husband a disapproving look. “I'm sure what your father meant to say was for you to be cautious when speaking with the reporter. Everybody here is on your side, Carly. We all just want the media to get off your back. They should give you the privacy and respect you deserve while allowing you the same freedom of speech they demand for themselves."

“That's right,” Sheriff Nagle said, taking a seat at the head of the table. “We've all had to suck up to the press at one time or another to get them to leave us alone."

“That or punch them in the face,” Carly muttered, causing her father's cheeks to turn bright red.

“That reporter slipped on the wet grass,” Sheriff Nagle insisted with a grin. “Either way, he hasn't been back here no more."

“I heard he packed up his family and left town. I wonder why he'd do that,” Carly said, reluctantly taking a seat next to Sheriff Nagle as his wife motioned for her to do.

“Folks move out of this town all the time,” the sheriff stated matter-of-factly. “Mayor, would you like to say the blessing before we dig in?"

“Of course,” the mayor said, clearing his throat and taking his wife's hand, setting off a chain reaction of hand holding around the table. When the sheriff extended his hand to Carly, she eyed it as if it belonged to a leper before quickly folding her hands in front of her.

“Well, I reckon this circle may not be unbroken,” Sheriff Nagle said with an amused smile, drawing back his hand and trying not to laugh as the mayor prayed through gritted teeth.

Carly remained silent during dinner, giving only short, direct answers to all questions. When the oppressed and completely oblivious Mrs. Nagle commented on how nice a couple Carly and the handsome deputy made, three sets of eyes exchanged uneasy glances, each member of the Wright family unsure how to quickly close the sore subject that had been avoided all evening. As Mrs. Nagle chattered on and on about how lucky Carly was to find such a nice, young gentleman, Carly cut her eyes at her father, who stared at his plate and chewed his food with a distinct angriness.

Even though Sheriff Nagle appeared thoroughly entertained by the scene, he quickly put a stop to the mayor's torture. “Mavis, why don't you run to the kitchen and get me some more coffee?"

As Mrs. Nagle duteously complied, the sheriff averted the conversation with details of his proposed prisoner work program. He articulately presented his case, stressing the mayor's urgent need to introduce a radical new policy, thereby diverting voters’ attention from his personal dilemma.

Resenting being referred to as her father's dilemma, Carly hopped up from the table to take her plate to the sink. When she returned to assist with the rest of the dishes, Sheriff Nagle insisted that she join him and her father for a tour of his new garage, which had been built with care by Plites county prisoners. After giving the sheriff a dirty look, she muttered a “no, thanks” and gathered up more platters and silverware to carry them into the kitchen. Sheriff Nagle rose from his chair and walked to the front door, holding it open as he addressed her. “I'm afraid your presence is required. It's part of the agreement."

After taking one look at his insistent expression, she handed the dishes to her mother, striding quickly out the door and displaying the body language of a captive slave girl. Even though it irked every inch of her being to surrender to the sheriff's coercion, she knew it was a small price to pay to free Robby from his clerical imprisonment and ensure his safety once back on the streets.

She waited on the porch for her tour guide, staring disgustedly at the massive garage that looked like a small airplane hangar. Checking her watch again and wishing the agonizing evening would end, she followed behind the mayor and sheriff, rolling her eyes at her father's enthusiastic admiration of the inmates’ work. As they entered through the remote controlled door, Carly stared with amazement at the showroom-like quality that rivaled Earl's Auto Superstore on Main Street in downtown Plitesville.

In addition to pointing out the superior workmanship of the garage, the sheriff also made a quick round of his hot rods, ending the tour with the confiscated vehicle that had been the subject of Carly's controversial interview with an accused drug dealer. “It's a shame to profit from another man's mistakes, but I reckon that's the price you pay when you go against the law,” Sheriff Nagle said, looking directly at Carly.

“The law being what's written on the books or what's determined by the man wearing the badge?"

“That's enough, Carly!” the mayor spat. “You may not be a real reporter, but you're sure as annoying as one! Is that all they're teaching in college these days? How to be obnoxious and disrespectful?"

She shrugged apathetically.

“I apologize for my daughter, Sheriff. Maybe we should just cancel the interview. She hasn't shown any evidence that she has the composure or constraint to pull this off today."

“Oh, I'm sure she'll be fine,” the sheriff said as a command rather than an opinion, walking toward the door then waiting for his guests to follow.

Once outside, Carly checked her watch again and tired to think of a way to take a short reprieve. She badly needed to clear her mind in preparation for the interview. Glancing across the sheriff's vast estate, she found the solution. “We still have a few minutes before the reporter gets here. Would it be okay if I walk down to the pasture? I'd like to say ‘hello’ to Ernie."

Sheriff Nagle chuckled as he closed the garage door. “I'm afraid that's not possible. I don't reckon any of us will see a trace of ol’ Ernie ‘til morning."

“Morning?” she said with a look of confusion.

“Yep. He was delicious, wasn't he?” he asked, rubbing his belly and grinning.

A horrified look crossed Carly's face. “That steak you served was Ernie?"

“Well, he sure wasn't doing me any good as a watchdog. I decided he could fulfill his purpose the ol’ fashioned way. He was a lot tenderer than I thought he'd be."

Carly's face went pale, and her hand flew to her mouth. “I wouldn't have eaten it if I'd known it was Ernie."

Sheriff Nagle laughed. “You city kids. You think that just because an animal has a name, it's a sin to eat it. Let me explain how the food chain works. Those at the top devour everything weaker than them. Survival of the fittest, and the smartest. That's just a fact of life. There's no such thing as a friend when it comes to hunger."

The sheriff's wicked grin turned Carly's already nauseous stomach. She realized that he was having his revenge, as well as flaunting his power, and his smug expression told her that he had received much enjoyment from her reaction.

“I'm going for a walk,” she announced, striding toward the fence leading to the pasture.

Not only did she want to escape the malicious lawman's presence, but she also needed to see for herself if the field was really devoid of the dignified bull. With any luck, she'd find that Sheriff Nagle had merely played a cruel joke on her. In spite of the fact that Ernie would've seriously hurt or killed her if given the chance, she would never wish the same fate upon him. She wasn't opposed to eating meat. It just seemed cannibalistic to consume an acquaintance with whom a great adventure had been shared, especially when the great adventure turned out to be the direct cause of his demise.

Upon reaching the gate leading to the pasture, Carly strolled along the fence until she came to a spot where the long expanse of acreage was completely in view. She quickly scanned the field, but no Brahma in sight.

Leaning over the top rail of the fence, she strained to see if the missing bull might be hidden in the shadows of the trees. Suddenly, a deep growl emitted from the left of where she stood, causing her head to whip hopefully toward the direction of the ominous sound. For a split second, she thought it strange for a bull to bear its teeth and growl, but as the large creature lunged at her, she quickly realized that it was not of the bovine variety. With a startled squeal, she jumped back from the railing just as the Rottweiler reached the fence, barking and snarling fiercely. The frenzied watchdog continued his savage warning, causing Carly's heart to pound and her feet to back away quickly.

Between the relentless barking and her loud breaths of fright, she never heard the footsteps of Sheriff Nagle. When she backed into him, she released another loud scream then spun around quickly.

The sheriff commanded the dog to cease his barking. “I reckon I don't have to worry about you and Chubby trespassing through my field no more, do I?” he asked with a chuckle.

Carly looked around for her father, but he had not accompanied the sheriff. “So this is Ernie's replacement,” she said sadly, taking several distancing steps from her host.

“Yep.” Sheriff Nagle threw the drooling dog a bite of leftover steak. “I paid top dollar to get the best watchdog available. I'd say by your reaction that I got my money's worth."

Carly was repulsed at the sight of the Rottweiler smacking ravenously on the remnants of Ernie, but she could not avert her eyes. She experienced immense guilt at having caused the untimely death of so powerful and stately a creature, the same creature that had been adopted as The Speerings' mascot and whose picture now appeared on the front page of each edition.

Suddenly realizing that the sheriff was relishing every moment of her anguished expression while inching closer to her, she looked toward his house for a sign of a protector or, at the very least, a witness. Unfortunately, there were neither. “Well, it's almost eight o'clock. I guess I should be heading back in case the reporter gets here,” she stated casually, turning away.

“Hold up there a minute,” Sheriff Nagle ordered, tossing the last scrap of steak to his watchdog then marching toward her.

Carly felt a strong desire to run straight to the sheriff's house and into her mother's arms but knew such a reaction would not help her achieve her goal for the evening.

Gradually coming to a halt, she closed her eyes and said a short, silent prayer for protection before turning around to face her opponent. “So the torment isn't over yet, huh? It's really okay for you to stop now. You've made your point. You've gotten me back real good for all the editorials I've written, for trespassing on your property, for dating your deputy, and everything else you've got against me. You've amply proven you're in charge and that you can and will destroy any living thing that doesn't follow your orders or live up to your expectations. I get it, okay? Now, can we please get this interview over with so Robby can go back to doing what he loves instead of sitting behind a desk all day?"

Sheriff Nagle appeared to consider her speech momentarily before making a quick sucking noise across his teeth. “Well, since we seem to be on the same wavelength now, a whole new scenario comes to mind..."

She waited for the sheriff to continue but he remained silent as if waiting for her to beg for an answer. When she could no longer take his calculating stare, she surrendered with a sigh. “It's still your move, Sheriff."

“Yes, it is,” he said with a smug grin. “Tell me, Carly. Just how far are you willing to go to get your boyfriend out from behind that desk."

She gaped at him with disbelief. “What are you suggesting?"

He shrugged. “Well, that's entirely up to you. You're a creative college student. I'm sure you can come up with something that's to my liking."

The sheriff became a blurred figure in front of her eyes as outrage and fear overtook her faculties, causing her body and voice to shake. “I'm sure my father will be very interested to hear about this!"

“And you really think he'll believe you?” the sheriff asked, bringing her retreating feet to a swift halt.

Standing frozen in a pool of helplessness, she closed her eyes and fought to sound convinced, as well as convincing. “Of course he'll believe me. He's my father."

Sheriff Nagle laughed as he swaggered toward her. “I hate to be the one to break it to you, but you're not exactly your father's little angel anymore. In fact, he's so mad at you right now that I believe you could march in there and tell him the sky is blue, and he'd tell you to leave the sky alone and quit passing judgment on it! I'd venture to say there's not one person in this whole county who'd take your word on anything you have to say about me. Not even your sweet, little mama."

“Robby would believe me!” Carly said, turning toward him with eyes aflame.

“Yeah, he might. I just have to wonder how he'd react to such news, though."

Visions of Robby sitting behind bars for the murder of Plites County's sheriff severed her last thread of hope. “You can't keep him on a desk assignment forever,” she said out of desperation.

“Sure, I can. I'm the boss."

As the profound staring contest continued between predator and hunted, Carly's mother appeared on the front porch. “The reporter's here, Sheriff,” she called out politely.

Sheriff Nagle never took his eyes from Carly's pale face. “Just think about it,” he instructed threateningly before brushing past her and making his way to greet the reporter.

Turning to stare with incredulous eyes at the extortionist strolling calmly toward her mother, Carly realized that she'd just been granted full membership into “The Defenseless Victims of Sheriff Nagle” club. Now she was supposed to act as though all was forgiven and play the part of the sheriff's best friend, forced to smile and shake hands for the camera, allowing the deviant to touch her.

Suddenly, it dawned on her that she no longer had a reason to go through with the skit of deception. Her main objective had been to release Robby from his tormenting assignment, but the sheriff had upped the ante to an unfathomable price.

As Amy frantically motioned for her to join them inside, Carly began taking heavy steps toward Sheriff Nagle's house. When her mother disappeared through the front door, Carly's feet instantly changed to weightless vessels of a desperate refugee. Sprinting to her car with speed likened to that of her terrorized flight from Ernie, she threw herself into the vehicle, starting the engine before closing the door and squealing her tires along the sheriff's long driveway.

“Sorry, Dad,” she whispered with a pained expression, glancing at her father's reflection in the rearview mirror before speeding up the road and leaving the reporter with an even better story than he had expected.

Twenty-seven

Carly had never seen Wyatt look as angry when she relayed Sheriff Nagle's depraved ultimatum. She drove straight to his house after stampeding from the scene of the crime, in need of a friend who would take her at her word. She never imagined her pacifist friend's reaction would match what she expected from her protective boyfriend. Wyatt grabbed his baseball bat and marched toward the door, verbalizing threats of destruction and death, not only for Carly's sake but also for the late Ernie's.

Carly followed him, frantically listing reasons for constraint. Since the possibility of incarceration wouldn't dissuade him, she decided to appeal to his journalistic senses. “But, who'll help me get the big'un on Sheriff Nagle if you're in jail for beating him up?"

“Okay, then I'll go ahead and do the job right. There won't be any need to get the big'un if he's six feet under!"

“Yeah, but then you'll go to jail, he'll die a hero, and nobody will ever know the truth! He will have won after all."

Wyatt's lumbering attempt at making haste gradually slowed until he came to a complete stop. Closing his eyes and sighing, he lowered his weapon then nodded. “Okay, then what are we supposed to do? We can't just let him get away with this."

“We step up the pace, and get the big'un before he has a chance to hurt anybody else. Who knows what he'll threaten Robby with next to get me to—Well, you know. I say we head straight to Mr. Benefield's house and see what his story is. If that gets us nowhere, we'll have to start following the sheriff and his buddies."

“Carly, maybe you should tell Rob. Maybe he could—"

“No! He'll go crazy just like you did, and I doubt there's anything I could say to stop him. As much as I know he hates sitting behind a desk, I'd rather him sit there forever than put himself in danger or end up in jail. You and I are going to have to handle this all on our own. Please promise me you'll keep your head on straight and not get yourself in trouble. You're the only person I can count on to keep this a secret and see it through to the end. I can count on you, can't I, Wyatt?"

“Of course you can count on me,” he said impatiently. “Let's call Mr. Benefield right now and ask if he'll see us tomorrow."

Mr. Benefield agreed to see them that very day. He was so happy to find someone in Plites County who shared his opinion of the sheriff that he insisted Carly and Wyatt drive straight to his house the minute they hung up the phone. Fifteen minutes later, they were sitting in his den, enjoying a tall glass of iced tea and pleasant small talk. When the weather had reached its scope of discussion possibilities, a lengthy lull in the conversation signaled Mr. Benefield to divulge his reason for not applauding Sheriff Nagle along with the rest of the county. Carly and Wyatt listened intently, as he proceeded straight to the core of the matter.

“As you probably already know, my son got in a lot of trouble growing up in this town. He started running with the wrong crowd in high school and got involved in using and selling drugs. I did what I could to try and help him, but he didn't want no help ... Anyway, I'll spare y'all the sad details and just cut right to the meat of the story since that's why you're here.

“See, Sheriff Nagle knew that Nat was a drug dealer. He also knew he had inside information on a group of troublemakers who were trying to form a gang like the ones you hear about in the big cities. The sheriff came knocking on our door one night, saying he needed to ask my son some questions. Nat wasn't here, so the sheriff went looking for him.

“A few days later, Nat was found dead at the bottom of Milam's cliff. Sheriff Nagle arrested the gang members on charges of murder, but I know them boys didn't do it. Sheriff Nagle done it himself!"

Mr. Benefield looked surprised when his statement didn't produce an expression of shock on the faces of his audience. Carly and Wyatt simply nodded and waited for the rest of the story.

“The reason I think he done it is because of something Ester Mae Hawkins told me a long time ago. Her house sits right across the street from Milam's cliff. She said that the sheriff and his buddies like to take criminals and witnesses down there and hold them over the edge ‘til they talk. I reckon Nat didn't tell them all they wanted to hear, or maybe he told them too much. Maybe they just wanted something to pin on those gang members so they could throw them in jail. Either way, they decided to take Nat's life from him. And from me and his mama..."

Carly's brow creased along with her saddened host's. “I'm so sorry, Mr. Benefield. Has Mrs. Hawkins reported what she witnessed? If what she told you is true, some very serious charges can be brought against the sheriff."

“Ester Mae is a loyal supporter of the sheriff. And even if she wasn't, who's she going to tell? Them lawmen all stick together. Besides, she told me that she don't have no sympathy for anybody who knows something about a crime and won't tell the police about it. She said that's just as big a crime as the original crime itself, and at the time, I agreed with her. Who knew my only son would end up dying because of it?

“That sheriff of ours has appointed himself king and decides which peasant lives and which one dies! If I had proof that he killed my son, I'd get my hunting rifle and take care of business myself. I just can't do it with a clear conscience ‘til I know without a doubt that he's guilty."

“Did Mrs. Hawkins actually see the sheriff take Nat up to the cliffs?"

“No. All she's seen is patrol cars going out there, carrying folks in the backseat. Says she can hear them screaming to high heaven all the way up at her house if she's settin’ on the porch or got her windows open."

“So this type of thing is still going on?” Wyatt asked with eager eyes, turning toward Carly.

“Well, I reckon it is. The sheriff ain't gonna stop his foolishness for no good reason. Somebody's gonna have to stop it for him. For all of us!"

“The big'un!” Wyatt and Carly said simultaneously, causing Mr. Benefield's furrowed brow to rise with curiosity.

“About what time of night does Mrs. Hawkins hear the screaming?” Carly asked, beating Wyatt to the obvious question.

“Well, I recall her saying it was around midnight on one occasion. But there was a couple of times that she said it happened right in the middle of the day. That sheriff's a brazen one, he is."

Both reporters nodded at one another, their thoughts perfectly in sync. Wyatt rocked to his feet as quickly as he could. “We appreciate your time, Mr. Benefield. I know it must be awfully hard for you to talk about this, but you've really been a big help. You'll be in our prayers."

“My prayers will be answered when the truth finally comes out. It won't bring Nat back, but it'll sure help me sleep better at night. Y'all be careful, now, ya hear? If the sheriff don't get y'all, one of his brainwashed fans surely will."

“How well I know,” Carly said, shaking Mr. Benefield's hand. “Thanks again for seeing us. We just have to keep praying that the truth will come to light real soon."

“And then the truth shall set us free,” Mr. Benefield said reverently.

“Amen,” Carly agreed with deep conviction.

As soon as she and Wyatt were out the door, the simultaneous chattering began. How exciting it would be to catch Sheriff Nagle in the act of terrorism! And such a charge could possibly lead to the investigation of the other accusations Carly brought against him.

Wyatt wanted to head straight to Milam's cliff that very minute and wait for the next interrogation session to begin, even if it meant camping out for days or even weeks on end. For once in her short career, Carly became the voice of reason and suggested they meet the following day to devise a plan of action. Not only did she want to practice prudence for the sake of their safety and success, but she also desperately needed to hear Robby's voice as soon as possible.

During Mr. Benefield's telling tale, a burning bullet of fear had penetrated her heart. Would Robby become the sheriff's next target? Wasn't there enough worry accompanying a relationship with a police officer without the added possibility of his cohorts inflicting injury or even death? How long could she live with the guilt of being the direct cause of Robby's work-related woes?

And even though common sense told her that she had no reason to feel ashamed about Sheriff Nagle's indecent proposal, a nagging voice within her continued to whisper that she was somehow to blame for his advances.

“Carly? Are you alright?” Wyatt asked, bringing her out of deep thought.

“Yeah, I'm fine. I've got to go."

He followed her hurried footsteps to her car. “Are you sure you're okay?” he asked, opening the door for her.

“I will be after I talk to Robby. Wyatt, we have to get something on the sheriff and fast. I'm really afraid of what he might do next."

“Rob will be fine. He's always got his eyes open for danger."

“Yeah, but he might not be looking for danger from folks in his own department, especially Sheriff Nagle."

“Well, maybe this new lead will help us get the big'un real quick. We'll just have to hope and pray that the sheriff finds somebody to terrorize real soon and that we're there to catch it all on camera."

“Good grief, Wyatt! You're starting to sound just like one of those bloodthirsty reporters from the evening news."

“Sorry, but sometimes you need a sacrificial lamb to get the big'un."

She sighed, closing her eyes momentarily. “Maybe I need to rethink my career path."

“Aw, you're just too close to this particular story. You're going to be a great reporter someday."

“Well, I can't think of someday right now. All I know is that I have to find a way to get Robby out of this mess I've gotten him into, and I have to do it quickly."

Wyatt frowned. “You're not gonna go and do something crazy, are you? Or something disgusting?"

“You mean take the sheriff up on his offer? No way! But if something doesn't happen out at Milam's cliff soon, we might just have to make it happen ourselves."

“What do you mean?"

“You know exactly what I mean,” she answered, starting her car and staring straight ahead.

Wyatt's crinkled brow melted into a look of realization. “Uh-uh, Carly! There's no way I'm going to let you become the sacrificial lamb! You get that thought out of your head right now!"

“We'll see what happens,” she stated, gently pushing his arm out of the way and rolling up her car window. “I'll see you tomorrow."

Wyatt watched her car disappear from sight before he shuffled wearily to his own vehicle. “Oh, boy,” he muttered to himself as he sat behind the driver's seat and prayed for his friend's safety and sanity.

* * * *

News spread quickly that Carly Wright had choked at the last minute when faced with an interview for a bona fide newspaper, fleeing the scene and leaving her father red-faced and stammering excuses. Jackie Balsey shocked everyone with the opening line of her latest editorial when she declared that Carly Wright wasn't to blame for her outlandish conduct. She merely exhibited the learned behavior of a politician's offspring. Just like an elected official, Carly enjoyed the social aspects of the situation before turning tail and running when the time came to get down to business and do the right thing.

Upon reading Jackie's caustic editorial, along with the other six articles covering the interview that never happened, Mayor Wright took his high blood pressure medication then called yet another emergency meeting with his staff.

In sharp contrast, Rob picked up the phone and called Carly the moment he saw the front page. With a soothing voice and sincere concern, he assured her again that she had no reason to feel guilty for staying true to her convictions. In an effort to raise her spirits, he announced that he'd be arriving at her dorm at seven, bearing her favorite Chinese take-out and a long, deep shoulder massage. He couldn't stay very late, though, since it was his week to work the midnight shift.

“No problem. I'm way behind on my English composition assignment. I was planning on working on it tonight, anyway.” Carly conveniently left out the fact that she would be tackling her homework while keeping vigil in Wyatt's car at Milam's cliff.

Promptly at 10:00 P.M., Rob pried himself from Carly's presence and led her to the door to say goodbye. When he wrapped his arms tightly around her, she felt as if no harm could come to either of them. The moment he walked out the door, a sudden sense of impending danger wove its prickly nest within her, and she ran after him as he strolled to his car. The sound of her brisk footsteps made him turn around quickly wearing a look of surprise. She stared at him speechlessly for a moment before bestowing a lunging embrace that brought a smile and a whisper of hopefulness to his lips. “Is this your way of telling me something, baby? Like maybe you want me to stay?"

“Yeah, but you can't,” she answered in a regretful whisper. Without warning, a painful notion that had been slowly seeping into her subconscious overtook her senses, and she found herself speaking words that made her feel like a honeybee dying from injecting its poison. “Robby, I'm sorry I have to do this, but ... I think it'd be best if we stop seeing each other."

Twenty-eight

Every thread of Carly's being ached from having uttered the words of finality, but she knew the pain was minor compared to what she would feel should harm befall Robby. After the unthinkable phrase sprung from her lips, his face held the expression of a man so seriously wounded he was unable to verbalize the depth of his pain. As he stared at her with a look of confusion, hurt, and disbelief, Wyatt pulled up in his car, causing Rob's expression to change over to fury. “Are you breaking up with me for him?” he asked with nostrils flaring.

“No. This is just something I have to do. I'm sorry, Robby,” she said with tears rushing down her cheeks.

“Now hold on just a doggone minute!” he said angrily, chasing after her as she ran to Wyatt's car and flung open the door, collapsing onto the passenger's seat.

“Go!” she commanded of her confused friend, quickly locking the door.

“What's going on here?” Wyatt asked, looking nervously at his weeping passenger then at the red-faced officer pounding his palm on the passenger window.

“Just go,” Carly said through her tears, throwing her hands over her face.

“Aw, man! This is the last thing I need right now.” Wyatt gave Rob an apologetic shrug then stepped on the gas and left the perplexed officer staring somberly after them.

Carly continued to cry into her hands as Wyatt drove straight to Milam's cliff. Pulling behind a high thicket where they would be hidden yet their view of the cliff unobstructed, he handed his friend a tissue and waited for her tears to subside. When she was able to speak, she quietly explained that she had ended her relationship with Robby in an attempt to protect him from Sheriff Nagle. Wyatt immediately argued that the sheriff would recognize her sacrifice for what it was and might even retaliate just to let her know he couldn't be fooled.

“I've already thought of that, Wyatt. But I have to do something,” she said despondently, a lone teardrop running down her cheek.

“Well, can't you get Rob to just pretend y'all broke up? At least it'd make things easier on you."

“He'd never agree to that. First off, he believes I'm crazy for thinking the sheriff would harm him in some way. And secondly, you know how proud he is that we're finally dating. He'd never agree to pretend we split up. I have to do this to make it look real. It sure hurts like it's real. And I never wanted to hurt Robby like that."

Wyatt's face grimaced along with hers as her tears began to flow once more. “Oh, come here,” he said, holding out his arms then patting her back gently while she cried into his chest. “Maybe we'll get the big'un on the sheriff tonight and you can go right back to Rob where you belong."

“I sure hope so,” she sniffled, raising her head and staring wishfully at the cliff.

When two A.M. arrived without a hint of drama at the ledge, Wyatt finally convinced her to go home for some rest and they could resume their stakeout the following night. Carly feared that Robby might still be standing in front of the dormitory awaiting her return, but when Wyatt pulled around the circular drive, there was no sign of Deputy Coad anywhere.

Her sad expression revealed her disappointment, causing Wyatt to pat her on the arm. “Well, you did spring this on him kind of sudden, you know. He's probably a little ticked off right now, but I'm sure he'll be banging at your door bright and early in the morning, begging you to take him back. Now, get on inside and get some sleep so you don't scare him away with those big ol', baggy bulldog eyes."

She managed a polite snicker. “Thanks loads, Wyatt, for everything,” she added, leaning over and giving him a quick hug.

“Hey, I have no life so I live vicariously through yours. Here lately, it's been kind of a downer, though. Do you think we could go back to being all happy and in love again sometime soon?"

“I'm afraid that's up to Sheriff Nagle,” Carly stated with a sigh. “I'll see you tomorrow night."

“I'll pick you up around ten-thirty. I'm sure not going to show up early again! Good luck with Rob."

Carly tossed and turned most of what was left of the night. When her exhaustion finally prevailed by way of hostile takeover, she fell into a deep sleep, her dreams filled with bleak images of utter desolation. In one such scene, a thousand familiar faces surrounded her, but none of them could see or hear her. The only person that acknowledged her presence was Sheriff Nagle, and he stalked her through the crowd, whispering words that were unintelligible yet emitted threats of pure evil originating from the depths of Hades. Even when Carly begged for help from the people passing by, they continued to go about their business as if she were invisible.

Seeing her mother sitting on a park bench, she felt a rush of relief. Certainly the woman who gave her life could see her. When she called out to her, however, Mrs. Wright continued to smile pleasantly at the people passing by as if Carly only existed within her own imagination.

With a feeling of absolute hopelessness, Carly turned and ran on the swift feet of terror toward a huge rock formation, glancing back every so often to find that Sheriff Nagle continued to trail her. Upon reaching the surprisingly inviting refuge, she discovered two cave entrances carved into the massive boulders. One of the entrances was covered with an old-fashioned screened door that had Wyatt's name etched into the middle wooden panel. The other opening was secured with a rustic door made of heavy pine and had “Robby” spray painted across its rough surface.

Carly stared from one door to the other, torn between which of the two she should request entry. She knew that knocking upon Wyatt's door was the safest bet, but her heart steered her toward the rough-hewn alternative. While struggling with her decision, she glanced back to find Sheriff Nagle gaining ground and breathing heavily through a wicked grin. She raised her hand to pound on Robby's entranceway, suddenly noticing that long, menacing splinters covered its surface. Realizing that to rap upon his door could cause much pain, she turned back to Wyatt's only to realize that its screened surface offered little protection against a deranged assailant.

Looking around once more as the sheriff closed in, she knew that a decision would have to be made without further hesitation. She called out to Robby through the thick, rugged portal but quickly realized that she could not be heard. Raising her closed fist to take her chances with the splinters, she was surprised to hear a loud knock reverberating through the air as if an unseen force had performed the task for her. As she looked around in confusion, startled by the inexplicable phenomenon, she came face to face with Sheriff Nagle and screamed out in terror as he hurled himself toward her.

Carly gasped as her eyes flew open, her subconscious releasing her from the terrifying nightmare. She sat up straight on the futon, holding her palm against her heaving chest. When the same perplexing knock that had invaded her dream sounded loudly at her door, another startled gasp escaped her lips. Realizing that the knock had invaded her dream rather than her dream having become reality, she stumbled toward the door, slipping into her robe as she went.

Opening the door slightly, she peeped through the crack and saw a fellow student standing there, wearing an annoyed expression. “There's a policeman wanting to see you downstairs,” the girl stated icily, turning to walk away.

“Is it Robby?” Carly asked as coherently as her foggy brain would allow, pushing the door open and leaning against its frame.

“Are you dating any other cops?” her messenger asked sarcastically.

“Tell him I'm asleep."

“You tell him!” the girl commanded hatefully, pointing to Rob as he appeared at the top of the steps.

Carly withdrew into her room, attempting to close the door before Rob could reach it, but her reflexes were also not yet fully awake. Utilizing his police training, Rob drew his nightstick and stopped the door from slamming in his face. “Open this door right now, Carly! We have to talk,” he commanded, using his most authoritative tone.

Carly knew the dreaded conversation would have to take place at some point so she quickly ran her fingers through her sleep-tousled hair and opened the door just enough for him to peer inside. “Okay,” she sighed with resignation.

“May I come in?” he asked impatiently, bearing the same sleep deprived look as his girlfriend.

She shook her head. “Part of your promise was that we'd never be alone in my dorm room together."

“Don't worry. I'm in no mood to try any funny business. Now let me in!"

She rubbed her eyes. “Can't we do this when I'm a little more awake?"

“No!” he said, forcing the door open and entering her room. As he paced back and forth like a caged tiger, Carly stood staring at the door with her hand still on the knob, unable to face the man whose heart she had to break for his own good. She heard him come to a stop. “Carly, I want you to turn around right now, look me in the eye, and give me one good reason why we should break up."

Swallowing hard, she shut the door and hesitated slightly before turning around and drawing her eyes from the floor to meet his gaze. “We just have to,” she said quietly and with much regret.

“Why?” he asked with unconstrained harshness.

Dropping her gaze back to the floor, she didn't answer.

“Just where did you and Wyatt run off to so late last night?"

“This isn't about Wyatt. I promise you we're just friends."

Rob's jaws clinched rapidly as he marched toward her. “Okay, then tell me why we just have to break up then. Is it because I told you I love you? I'm sorry if you don't want to hear it, but it's the truth. I won't ever say it again, though, if it'll put an end to this nonsense."

“No. That's not it ... It's about the sheriff."

“The sheriff? What about the sheriff?"

Carly longed to spill the details of every lustful ogle, inappropriate remark, and obscene threat of blackmail she had received from Sheriff Nagle. But one look into Robby's crazed eyes reemphasized her conviction that such information remained potentially detrimental to both his health and his freedom. “I just think it'll be safer for you at work if you're not mixed up with me."

Rob rolled his eyes. “You know, this little obsession of yours used to be kind of amusing. Now it's just plain sad. Do you honestly believe that Sheriff Nagle has nothing better to do than dream up ways of getting revenge on you? If so, then you've got a real problem, Carly."

“The only problem I have is that you and my dad and almost everybody else in this town refuse to believe the truth about him! What's it going to take to convince you, Robby? Are you going to have to take a bullet like Hollis Dupree did before you see what kind of man Sheriff Nagle really is?"

“Hollis Dupree was shot in the line of duty during a bank robbery!"

“Yeah, by Sheriff Nagle's right hand man!"

“Oh, give me a break, Carly! You actually believe that Sheriff Nagle ordered Handley to shoot one of his own? And that Handley would actually do it? Where do you get these crazy ideas? Maybe you should consider writing novels instead of news reports!"

“Well, maybe you should consider being anything but a cop! You can't even recognize hardened criminals when they're standing right in front of you!"

She regretted her emotionally charged outburst immediately. Rob's nostrils flared widely from short, angry breaths, and he shook his head with a look of sadness. “I really thought I could overlook your idiotic notions about the sheriff and make this thing work out. Now I see I was wrong. You have every right to believe what you want to believe, and I wouldn't dream of ever trying to stop you. But when you start accusing my boss of having one of his own men murdered? I'm sorry, Carly, but I've got to draw the line somewhere."

She stared at him silently as he continued.

“Everybody tried to warn me about you, but I wouldn't listen. I used to tell them that you were just creative and a little quirky, but this has gone way past that. If you're willing to throw away something as amazing as what we have over some crazy idea you've cooked up in your imagination, then you really need help. When you get it, give me a call."

As he strode past her, she wanted to throw herself in front of him and beg him not to leave, but she remained immobile in her state of sorrow. Her goal had been to end the relationship in order to protect him. She never figured on having to watch him willingly walk out of her life. “Robby,” she called out tearfully when he reached for the knob, causing him to freeze. “Do me one last favor, okay? Tell Sheriff Nagle that I'm the one who ended it and that I couldn't care less what happens to you now."

Rob released a loud breath of disbelief and heartbreak before flinging the door open and exiting without looking back or saying goodbye.

Twenty-nine

A snicker escaped Sheriff Nagle's lips at the sight of Deputy Coad moping around the office bearing the look of a perturbed and sickly cat. The sheriff had snickered a lot over the last two weeks, and the source of his amusement was not limited to the drama of Rob's anguish. He knew Carly was the kind of person who'd sacrifice her life if necessary to protect the people she loved, and he inwardly scoffed at her naiveté.

What she needs is to be with a real man, he thought, staring out his office window. That'd knock all the silly, girlish innocence right out of her.

As he spun his chair back around, he smirked at Rob sitting miserably at a desk right outside his office. Better get used to it, boy, he thought, picking up a large stack of papers and dropping it on the deputy's desk with a loud thud before strolling out the door for lunch.

* * * *

Two more weeks passed without a sign that either Sheriff Nagle or Carly was willing to budge on their individual stances. Rob remained trapped behind an avalanche of paperwork, while Carly avoided the sheriff at all cost. She knew exactly what it'd take to free Robby from his unjustified punishment; however her faith and convictions would not allow her to sacrifice herself morally for any cause. Since she felt that Robby was relatively safe sitting at a desk, she decided to continue with her and Wyatt's plan to entrap the sheriff and reveal his true character, knowing that to do so was her only hope in reuniting with the man she genuinely cherished.

On Carly's fifth dateless Friday evening, she sat alone in her dorm room hurrying to complete her homework before Wyatt showed up for their nightly journey to the cliff. When someone tapped on her door at nine fifteen, she frowned at the clock while preparing to verbally chastise Wyatt for being so early. Irritably flinging open the door, she was surprised to find Chelsea Harper, her shy next door neighbor. “Hey, Carly. I was just wondering if you'd heard the news."

Carly shook her head. “What news?"

“Um ... About Rob..."

Carly crossed her arms, expecting to hear the dreaded yet anticipated news that Robby had reverted back to his former lifestyle. Chelsea took a step backward from Carly's intense glare before quickly explaining. “He was in an accident a little while ago. They said that somebody ran him off the road. I think he's okay, though. Just a little banged up and bruised."

“Where is he now?” Carly asked frantically, turning to grab her keys and trying not to give in to the feeling of panic.

“They took him to the hospital to make sure he's okay. I don't know if he's still there or not,” she yelled as Carly rushed out the door and down the stairs.

“Thanks, Chelsea,” Carly shouted over her shoulder, running through the front door then straight to her car, praying all the way to the hospital.

When she arrived at the emergency room, she was greeted with hostile looks from the four police officers standing in a huddle, as well as from the admittance clerk. The clerk informed her that Rob was fine and would be released as soon as his paperwork had been finalized. Carly asked to see him but was denied access because his room was “plum full of kin folk". The clerk then told her to have a seat in the waiting room with the rest of the deputy's girlfriends. Turning toward the visitor area, Carly saw only one other female who looked to be the age of Robby's great grandmother. “Let me in to see him,” she commanded, giving the clerk a threatening glare.

“Sorry. Family only. Besides, I heard he was through with you,” the clerk declared sweetly, still wearing her perpetual customer service smile.

Carly ignored the laughter and comments that sounded from the waiting room and continued to scowl at the clerk. “Either you find out if he'll see me or I feature you in my next article. I'm sure everyone would be interested in knowing that the admittance clerk at Plitesville General has no regard whatsoever for the wishes of its sick and injured."

The clerk's smile faded. “Okay, I'll buzz you in. But if the least bit of trouble breaks out back there, I'll have an orderly throw you out on your pushy, little heinie real fast. Understand me?"

Carly nodded impatiently as she walked to the emergency room entrance. When the buzzer sounded, she pushed open the door and walked on shaky legs toward room number three with no idea what to say to Deputy Coad. Hesitating briefly, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath before marching through his door as if she belonged there. Immediate silence filled the room as her and Rob's eyes locked on to one another with looks that expressed a hundred different emotions.

A dreadfully familiar voice brought Carly out of her trance in a hurry. “Well, well, well. What have we here?” Sheriff Nagle asked with a smile. “I thought the two of you broke up weeks ago."

“They did,” Rob's mother announced firmly. “You need to leave right now, Carly. My son's been through enough tonight without you coming in here and getting him all upset."

Carly's eyes swept the room to find Robby's parents and brother glaring disapprovingly while Sheriff Nagle wore a content, knowing grin. Quickly averting her eyes from his piercing stare, she turned her attention to Rob, whose arm lay in a sling and who bore an expression as blue as the bruise on his left cheek. “Why don't y'all give me and Carly a minute alone?” he suggested quietly.

Rob's mother opened her mouth to protest, but her husband quickly shuffled her and his youngest son from the room, looking inquiringly at Sheriff Nagle as he remained seated next to the gurney. When Rob's family had exited, Sheriff Nagle rose and walked toward Carly, who still refused to look into his eyes. “And I suppose you're just here to get the facts for a news story,” he said with raised eyebrows.

Before Carly could respond, Sheriff Nagle chuckled then walked out the door, leaving her filled with self-hatred for not realizing that he'd be there making a token appearance. After a moment of uncomfortable silence, Rob spoke quietly. “So, are you really just here for a news story?"

She shook her head. “I had to see if you were all right. Are you?"

“Yeah, I'm fine. I'm sure I'll be a little sore tomorrow, but it's nothing I can't handle. I've lived through being hurt before. Pretty recently, as a matter of fact."

She looked down guiltily at the dingy, stained floor. “I heard you were run off the road. Is that true?"

“Yep. Some idiot came out of nowhere when I was on my way home from Johnnie's and ran me off into a ditch. He must have been drunk or something ‘cause he tried to pass, but he turned back into his lane before he had totally cleared my car. I cut the wheel to keep him from hitting me and ended up sideways in the ditch. The bum just kept on going in his beat-up, piece of junk. I couldn't get his tag number or anything."

“Are you sure it was really an accident?"

“No. You can never be totally sure. I guess it could've been somebody who was mad at me for arresting him or somebody who hates cops in general. It was probably just a drunk, though."

“Or one of the sheriff's buddies,” she whispered sharply, glancing back at the door.

Rob sighed angrily. “If you're going to start that nonsense again, you can leave right now!"

Carly marched to the gurney, addressing him in a desperate whisper. “Robby, listen to me! He knows I still care about you, and he'll do anything to get at me. Please promise me you'll be careful and that you'll stay off the streets late at night."

“Is this your pathetic way of keeping me from going out with somebody else? I sure hope so, ‘cause if you're serious, you can stop wasting my time with your ridiculous paranoia. Haven't you found a good psychiatrist yet?"

“I don't need a shrink! I just need you to be okay."

The sight of her tears and the sincere concern in her voice didn't appear to affect him. “I'll be fine. You just get yourself to a good head doctor and then maybe everything will be okay. You'd better go now. Thanks for stopping by."

Nodding, she wiped her eyes. “You take care of yourself,” she said quietly, finding that she was unable to move from her spot.

Rob gazed at her with his jaws clinching rapidly. “See ya, Carly,” he said with a strained voice, wincing in pain as he slowly rose to escort her to the door.

Carly winced along with him. “Robby, I know you think I'm crazy, but please promise me you'll keep your eyes open and be extra careful, just in case, okay?"

“Okay, I promise,” he said with a roll of the eyes. “Now, you'd better get out there and see what Sheriff Nagle's up to now. He might be knocking some poor ol’ lady's cane out from under her or something."

Carly pursed her lips. “You have no idea what kind of man you're standing here and defending!"

“And you have no idea what kind of man you're standing here and condemning!” he replied as she turned and marched out the door, fighting back tears of hurt and frustration.

Striding past Rob's visitors without speaking, her eyes set on the large double doors, she burst into the waiting room, ignoring the admittance clerk's warnings and the police officers’ remarks. Just as she reached the exit, Sheriff Nagle came through the double doors, following her into the parking lot. When he called out her name, she turned around to face him with eyes afire. “So, why are you here, Sheriff? To check out the results of your handiwork?"

He appeared unmoved by her impudence. “I'm here for the same reason you are, Carly. ‘Cause I care about Rob's well being."

“You don't care about anybody but yourself! I know you're used to blackmailing folks until you get what you want, but this time it's not going to work! I don't care how much you threaten me. I will never, ever give you what you're asking for! I want you to stay away from me, and I want you to stop using Robby to try and get to me! I broke up with him. He's not in my life anymore. It makes no sense for him to be punished or hurt because you want something from me!"

“Well, you've got the power to stop it right now,” he said in a voice barely audible to her much less to any witnesses who might happen by. “If you really don't care what happens to Deputy Coad, just remember that I can always set my sights on your fat friend. Or your sweet, little mamma."

As she gaped at the sheriff with a look of horror, a reporter for The Plitesville Sentry pulled up next to them, hopping out of his car and firing questions that ranged from reasonable to outrageous. “Carly, have you two finally come to an understanding? Was it the deputy's accident that sparked your change of heart? Are you and Deputy Coad back together or are you here simply to cover the story? Are you here to have some sort of medical test yourself? Is it Aids? Are you pregnant? Do you think the deputy would actually marry you if that happened? Is it true you broke up with Rob for the fat kid? Is he the father of the baby? Carly, can we get just one comment, please?"

As she made her way to her vehicle, Carly continued to ignore the reporter's questions, which she knew were designed to provoke a reaction and produce a more compelling story. Swiftly locking the door behind her, she started her car and sped away, filled with immense fear and wondering how she could put an end to the blackmail without selling her soul to the devil and her body to Sheriff Nagle.

Thirty

Carly and Wyatt stepped up their surveillance activity, spending every minute of their spare time, day and night, at Milam's cliff. Their hope was to capture lengthy footage during daylight hours to ensure positive identification of the sheriff and his men. However if all they could acquire was a snippet of video, filmed in the dark of the night, they'd take their chances in order to free Carly from her nightmare. They both realized that shining a bright light upon armed evildoers in the midst of their crime held a deadly potential, but neither of them spoke their thoughts aloud as they kept watch during their stakeouts.

After their classes one afternoon, they sat behind a huge rock at Milam's cliff in the summer sunshine, hoping and praying that this would be the day they scored “the big'un". As the minutes ticked by and they grew increasingly sleepier and sweatier, Carly's fear and fatigue overtook her ability to reason. Unclipping her cell phone from her belt, she announced that she was calling Sheriff Nagle to ask that he meet her at the cliff to settle their dispute in whatever way he desired. When he arrived, she would say she changed her mind and then attempt to make him confess to at least one of his crimes while Wyatt filmed the encounter from behind the rock. If nothing else, perhaps evidence of the sheriff's threats toward her would be made clear one way or another and would be enough to prompt an investigation into the rest of her accusations.

Refusing to use even one brain cell to consider her insane idea, Wyatt reached out to snatch the phone from her hand. Since she was smaller and faster, she easily dodged his lunge, fleeing from him while spewing empty accusations of disloyalty and betrayal. Running behind her car, she hurriedly attempted to dial Sheriff Nagle's office, but Wyatt managed to catch up with her, grabbing the phone and keeping her at bay by threatening to hurl it over the cliff onto the jagged rocks below. Their heated argument grew to unprecedented proportions as Carly struggled to reach the phone he held high over his head.

His riled expression suddenly turning anticipatory, he attempted to shush her by saying he heard a car approaching from the direction of the entrance. Dismissing his claim as a ruse, she began tickling her opponent in an effort to dislodge the phone from his hand. Wyatt abruptly lowered his arm and threw it around her like a net, his other hand covering her mouth as he insisted she stop yelling for one minute and listen. As the sound of tires crushing gravel grew louder, Carly's eyes grew wide with realization, and she and Wyatt scrambled to take cover behind the large boulder.

Tossing the cell phone onto the ground next to him, Wyatt picked up his video camera and stationed himself at the edge of the rock, ready to film the sheriff in action. Carly held her breath as she watched the patrol car come to a stop near the edge of the cliff about thirty yards from where she and Wyatt were positioned. When Sheriff Nagle and Deputy Handley stepped out of the vehicle, Carly's hand flew to her mouth, and she found herself shaking from head to toe, unsure of what the next few moments held in store. “You're getting all this, right?” she whispered, never taking her eyes from the scene.

“Oh, yeah,” Wyatt whispered enthusiastically, turning the camcorder's volume to its maximum level in spite of the distance between him and his subjects.

Sheriff Nagle stood next to the car while Deputy Handley pulled a wide-eyed young man in handcuffs from the backseat. After escorting him to the sheriff, he forced him to take a seat on the hood of the car where he could watch the two deputies converse in private just a few feet away. Even though he couldn't hear their sinister plan, they made certain he was well aware of their intent. The lawmen kept both their prisoner and covert observers in suspense for an excruciating long period of time by whispering and nodding at one another, all the while staring intently at the terrified young man.

When they finally adjourned, Deputy Handley stalked over to speak with his hostage, the conversation only serving to enrage his audience of one. As the exchange turned into a shouting match then into a one-sided fistfight, Carly had to avert her eyes. She turned her attention to Sheriff Nagle, whose face expressed no emotion at the sight of Deputy Handley hitting and kicking his victim repeatedly.

“We need to help him,” she whispered to Wyatt, whose mouth was fixed in a grin underneath the camera.

“Sssh,” Wyatt hissed as the deputy grabbed the young man by the collar and dragged him toward the edge of the cliff.

Carly watched in horror as Sheriff Nagle took over, roughly spinning the unidentified male around and facing him toward the precipice, speaking inaudible threats into his ear. The boy shook his head vigorously, and it was obvious that he was pleading for his life. Carly reached out and clasped on to Wyatt's arm as the sheriff inched his prisoner closer and closer to the edge of the cliff. “We can't let them do this!” she whispered desperately.

“Do you want the big'un or not?” Wyatt asked impatiently, wiggling out of her grasp then steadying himself against the rock.

Carly turned her attention back toward the three men. As she watched the captors torment their nameless prey, a familiar sickening feeling took her rationale hostage. Sheriff Nagle's expression reminded her of her family's pet cat, who bore the same look while toying with a helpless bird until it finally succumbed to an endless sleep. As a child, she had snatched a countless number of winged and furred creatures from the jaws of death, in spite of her father's insistence to let nature take its course.

Taking one last look at Wyatt eagerly taping the gruesome scene, she knew it was up to her to perform the same heroic act once again. “Wyatt, we've got to stop this before they kill him,” she pleaded in a whisper.

“No! This is awesome! He's going to give in any minute now; I just know it!"

“We can't take that chance. Could you really live with yourself knowing you watched someone die without even trying to help him?"

“Hey, lay off the guilt trip, Carly! We're here as reporters, not as bodyguards. This is the story of the year, and I'm not going to turn this camera off ‘til the very end."

After shaking her head at her misguided friend, she glanced in the direction of the heart-wrenching screams. As she quickly turned away again, Wyatt's statement sank fully into her mind. Hesitating briefly to gather her courage, she uttered what could be her final words to him. “You know, you're right, Wyatt. A great reporter never interferes in the action, no matter what happens. I know now that I'm not a great reporter. Let's see if you are."

Before he could stop her, she rose from her crouched position and hurriedly made her way toward her car, creeping around the backside. “Hey, what are you doing? Get back over here!” he whispered frantically as she pushed her way through the brush until reaching the clearing that led to the edge of the cliff. “Oh, dear Lord, help her,” Wyatt prayed under his breath, watching and continuing to film as she marched onto the battlefield and straight toward Sheriff Nagle.

The sheriff was so preoccupied with terrorizing his victim that he didn't see her walking toward him. “Leave him alone!” she commanded with a shaky voice, causing the sheriff's head to whip toward her, his eyes expressing his astonishment.

Shoving the beaten and bruised youth toward Deputy Handley, Sheriff Nagle strode over the rocky ground to meet Carly, his eyes blazing with ill intent. When he reached her, his gaze swept over the landscape as he spoke. “This ain't no business of yours, Carly. Now, tell your not-so-little friend that he'd better get out here right now with that camera before I send my deputy in to find him."

“I'm out here all on my own,” she replied truthfully. “Now tell your little friend to leave that poor man alone before I call the police."

As she reached down to pull her phone from her belt, Wyatt gasped and looked down at her cell phone lying mockingly on the ground next to his feet. Picking it up, he took one more glimpse at her panicked expression before pressing numbers with a trembling finger.

Sheriff Nagle regarded Carly with an unsettling thoughtfulness before turning toward his deputy. “Hey, Handley. Throw that scumbag back in the car then go see if there's a fat boy lurking in the woods with a video camera."

“Yes, sir,” Deputy Handley replied, pulling the injured yet relieved young man toward his vehicle.

Carly forced herself to keep her eyes on the sheriff so as not to give away Wyatt's hiding place by glancing in its direction. Her strong desire to scream the words “Run, Wyatt!” made her close her eyes momentarily and pray for composure, as well as for his safety.

Suddenly, Sheriff Nagle reached out and grabbed her by the arm, causing her eyes to fly open and a startled gasp to escape her lips. When he led her in the direction of the cliff, his tight grip on her arm invoking previews of future pain, the reality of the situation suddenly hit her full force, and her silent praying resumed with fervor. In the same fashion as the previous victim, he placed her upon the hood of the patrol car, where she was forced to endure his lustful and ill-boding gaze. “Just what were you hoping to accomplish here today, Carly?” he finally asked, breaking the terrifying silence.

She knew it was imperative to choose her words wisely. “I just had to see for myself if I was right about you."

He looked skeptical. “You're not here to write a news story?"

She rubbed her sore arm. “I'm through writing stories about you."

“Just like you're through with Deputy Coad?” he asked with a smirk.

Looking away, she ignored his question. “Don't you think you should roll down your car window so your human punching bag won't die of a heat stroke?"

The sheriff shook his head with disbelief. “You're always thinking about the other guy, aren't you, Carly? When are you going to learn that you're better off looking out for number one?” Walking to the patrol car, he opened the door and dragged his already sopping prisoner out onto the dirt. After giving him several swift kicks, he strolled back over to Carly, who was cringing with sympathy pains. “Now, is that better?"

She fumed at the sheriff while trying to tune out the young mans groans. “What'd he do to deserve this?” she asked, subtly glancing in Wyatt's direction but unable to distinguish whether or not he was still stationed behind the rock.

“You need to stop worrying about this punk and start worrying about yourself and Chubby. Once my deputy finds him, he's going for a ride to the jailhouse. Then I reckon I'm going to have to discipline you my own self right out here on this cliff."

The sheriff's threat caused her to envision her lifeless, violated body being lifted from the bottom of the canyon. Without a second thought, she quickly scanned the area for the best escape route before scooting off the edge of the hood to run toward the woods. Having anticipated her foolish bravery, the sheriff promptly tackled her to the ground, fighting off her kicks and turning her onto her back. Once straddling her, he grabbed her wrists and pressed them firmly into the hard clay over her head, all the while staring down into her fearful eyes and grinning with a look of visualized conquest.

Within seconds, Deputy Handley's voice sounded behind them. “Uh, sir?” he said uncertainly.

“What?” Sheriff Nagle asked with much irritation, rising to his feet and brushing off his knees. “You stay put,” he instructed Carly when she attempted to ease to her feet as well.

Deputy Handley looked questioningly from Sheriff Nagle to Carly as he spoke. “I, uh, found the girl's car over there behind that brush, but there's no sign of the fat boy or anybody else. Do you want me to keep searching?"

“No! Just put that punk back in the car and drive him down to the station."

Deputy Handley frowned. “But he hasn't—"

“I don't care! Just get him and yourself out of here!” Sheriff Nagle shouted angrily.

The deputy scrambled to obey orders. “Yes, sir. But aren't you going back to the station, too?"

Sheriff Nagle never took his eyes off Carly. “No. Come back and pick me up in about an hour or so."

“Yes, sir,” Deputy Handley said with a nod, forcing the prisoner to his feet.

As the deputy opened the back door of the squad car, the battered young man lifted his eyes and gave Carly a look of appreciative sympathy. “Thanks,” he managed to mumble before Deputy Handley shoved him into the backseat and told him to shut his worthless mouth.

“Humph,” Sheriff Nagle grunted. “I'm the one he should be thanking."

As Carly watched the patrol car drive away, feelings of terror and complete helplessness overtook her. She had a strong desire to make another run for it, but knew it would only hasten the loathsome physical contact that was to take place. It was obvious that Sheriff Nagle had no intention of letting her live to tell his vile deed. And if he couldn't stop her with another tackle, she believed he'd have no qualms about shooting her to bring her back down to the ground.

The only thread of hope to which she could cling was the fact that Wyatt had not been discovered and was in possession of her cell phone. She knew he had to be somewhere nearby since his physical condition would not allow him to run very far. What she didn't know was whether or not he had placed a call for help or if he'd come out of hiding in time to stop the unthinkable crimes Sheriff Nagle had planned for her.

While continuing to silently pray that her chasteness as well as her life be spared, she glanced around for a way out, wondering why her attacker had not yet made his move. When he spoke to her, she jumped with a start, quickly realizing the reason for his hesitation.

“That deputy of mine sure knows how to spoil the mood, doesn't he? Let's see if we can't get it back. Why don't you stand up and turn around a few times so I can take a good look at you?"

She swallowed hard then raised her gaze to meet his. “No,” she answered in a low, angry tone.

“No? I don't think you're in any position to be telling me ‘no',” he said, resting his hand on his holster.

Her lips trembled with anger, fear, and disgust. “Go ahead and shoot me if you must. I'd rather die than do anything willingly for you."

He shrugged. “Well, that's your choice, I reckon. A little roughhousing will work just as well for me."

As he started toward her with a purpose that reeked of carnal revenge, her self-preservation instinct kicked into high gear, causing her to scream out for help then scramble to her feet and attempt another escape. Sheriff Nagle quickly lunged for her and caught hold of one ankle, bringing her down onto the unforgiving earth with brutal force. Carly lashed out and kicked rapidly with all her strength while continuing to scream.

As the sheriff fought his way upon her, ripping her tank top then pinning her firmly to the ground, she pushed against his grip and tried to wiggle free, but her attempts only served to arouse him further. When he lowered his head to apply his lips to her throat, she closed her eyes tightly to force back the tears of humiliation. She had no intention whatsoever of allowing him the pleasure of seeing her cry.

At the first sound of Carly's screams, Wyatt had emerged from his hiding place and ran back toward the cliff as fast as he could. Picking up a large rock, he pushed his way through the thick brush leading to the scene of the crime, his heart pounding with fear and rage. “I can do this. I know I can do this,” he repeated to himself, hoping and praying he would get there in time.

Just as he burst through to the other side, he witnessed the blessed sight of Rob Coad drawing his gun while silently running full speed toward the sheriff, haste and fury coloring the deputy's face a deep shade of red. Wyatt shrunk back into the brush when Rob's partner, Darnell, also appeared with weapon drawn. “Put your hands in the air, Sheriff. You're under arrest!” Darnell shouted in a booming voice that echoed over the cliff.

Sheriff Nagle raised his head with a look of alarm and swiftly forced Carly's arms over her head where he could hold her wrists down with one hand and reach for his gun with the other. Rob's pace never slowed, and when he finally spoke, his voice sounded as though it belonged to a madman. “Put one finger on that gun and you're dead!"

The sheriff hesitated for a split second to study Rob's expression before reaching for handcuffs instead of his weapon. “Boy, am I glad you two are here. I'm trying to arrest Carly, but she's putting up one heck of a fight. She's pretty strong to be such a little thing. I reckon I'm going to have to add resisting arrest to her other charges."

Carly's mouth flew open to protest, but Rob shook his head fiercely at her before taking two more antsy and purposeful steps toward the sheriff. His partner held out a hand to keep him in check. “What charges, Sheriff?” Darnell asked calmly.

The sheriff steadied himself before tightening his grip on Carly's wrists. “Well, first off, I'm filing charges of stalking against her for following me around and spying on me for who knows how long. Then we've got an obstruction of justice charge for her interfering in an arrest Deputy Handley and I were trying to make earlier. Not to mention trespassing out here on the cliff with signs posted everywhere. Add resisting arrest to the list and she's looking at some serious jail time."

In spite of Rob's looks of warning, Carly hysterically refuted the sheriff's accusations. Sheriff Nagle never took his eyes from the two armed deputies as he hissed at her through gritted teeth. “Shut up! No one's going to believe a word you say."

Darnell frowned with confusion then looked at Rob questioningly however his comrade didn't acknowledge him. Blinded by fury yet struggling to maintain his professionalism, Rob continued staring menacingly at the sheriff, glancing every so often at Carly with anguished eyes. Darnell leaned toward his partner to address him privately. “Maybe he's telling the truth, man."

Rob shook his head vigorously but his eyes flickered with doubt. “But Wyatt said—"

“I know what Wyatt said, but we have to give the sheriff the benefit of the doubt. He's our boss, man! He's a cop just like you and me. What if that wasn't Carly over there? You wouldn't normally listen to anything a perpetrator had to say while being arrested, would ya?"

A staccato of realization flared across Rob's stone expression and his rigid stance relaxed slightly but only for a split second. “But this is Carly!"

“I know. I know, man. But this is also Sheriff Nagle!"

Rob's frown deepened to the point that he was almost unrecognizable and his gaze pivoted rapidly between Sheriff Nagle and Carly. Although his head shook slightly with uncertainty, he kept his gun aimed at his superior's chest.

His partner slowly lowered and holstered his own weapon. “C'mon, Rob. Something's just not right here and you know it. Why don't you give me your gun and let me handle this, all right?"

Darnell extended his hand and continued to utter soft words of encouragement and instruction. Rob's chest heaved with breaths of emotionally charged indecision and his hands began to shake as he held his weapon with a punishing grip. Carly, in pain and uncertain of his hesitation, once again cried out in her own defense. Rob's grip on his weapon tightened ever further, and he shrugged off his concerned partner. “Carly wouldn't lie. She would never lie,” he muttered more to himself than to Darnell, inching even closer to his target.

“Aw, man! I was hoping I wouldn't have to do this,” Darnell said, drawing his weapon and pointing it at his partner.

At the unwelcome turn of events, Wyatt emerged from the bushes with his hands in the air. “No! Don't! He was going to rape her! And probably kill her! I swear it's the truth! I've got it all on tape!"

Darnell immediately spun around and pointed his weapon at the surprise intruder. “Freeze, Gurnell! Don't take one step closer!"

Hearing the unimaginable charges of rape and murder in conjunction with Carly's name caused Rob's pent up wrath to take hold of his reflexes like a seizure. With a burst of adrenalized power, he threw himself at Sheriff Nagle, toggling his gun into his left hand then striking a quelling blow to the sheriff's stunned face with his right. As the lawman fell backward from the force of the punch, Rob holstered his gun then grabbed his superior by the collar to drag him further away from Carly. He managed to kick the sheriff's weapon over the cliff then inflict four additional blows to his bloodied face before his partner grabbed him from behind and laboriously pulled him to his feet.

Rob struggled violently against him, spewing vicious threats, but Darnell held on, attempting to reason with the crazed deputy.

“Rob, listen to me, man. You can't do this! Maybe he deserves it; I don't know. But you just can't do it."

“Oh, yeah? Who says so?” Rob spat with fury, still straining madly against his partner's restraint.

“The law says so! Come on, dude. It's not worth it and you know it! We've got to follow the book on this one just like any other case."

“But this ain't just any case! This is Carly! Do you realize what he was planning to do to her?” Rob shouted, his aggression tripling when he glanced at Carly weeping in Wyatt's comforting embrace.

As two additional patrol cars pulled up to the scene, Darnell became desperate to contain his partner. Swiftly throwing an arm around Rob's neck, he placed him in a tight headlock and spoke with frantic emotion. “Rob, listen to me, man! If you really love that girl like you say you do and want a future with her, you've got to get a grip right now! If you end up killing the sheriff, you're going to be in prison a real long time. How are you going to like being away from Carly that long, huh? You were nearly suicidal just two days after she broke up with you!

“Now, look. The backup I called for is finally here. That's two more witnesses to testify against you in a court of law. You could end up getting a life sentence for this, man! That's the rest of your life without Carly. Just stop and think about that a minute before you go and do something stupid!"

When the unfortunate truth of his partner's words had time to saturate his heart and conscience, Rob's struggling gradually subsided. After he sighed and nodded, Darnell cautiously released him. “Okay,” Rob whispered with resignation. “Just promise me two things, all right?"

“Sure, man. Whatever you need, partner,” Darnell assured him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Promise me you'll let Wyatt and Carly have their say before you start cuffing them. I know it's their word against the sheriff's, but they have a right to be heard."

“No problem. Gurnell claims he has a tape. We'll give him a chance to produce it before we proceed. What else?"

Rob took a deep breath. “If you're going to arrest me for assaulting Sheriff Nagle, don't do it in front of Carly. Please!"

Darnell patted Rob's back. “Don't worry, man. Nobody's getting arrested until we sort everything out. Now, while I get these other officers up to speed, why don't you go and see about your lady? We'll be right over in just a few minutes."

After giving the dazed and moaning sheriff one last glare, Rob turned and walked over to Carly and Wyatt, his vicious expression immediately changing to humbleness and concern. Wyatt released his embrace and gently turned Carly around to face the contrite officer. Taking a step backward, Wyatt stared at the ground, but not for long. Two police officers strode over from the group surrounding Sheriff Nagle and demanded to see the alleged videotape. Without hesitation, he led them to the camera that continued to film the action from atop the boulder.

Now markedly calmer and able to focus, Rob finally noticed that Carly still held her torn tank top together with a tense grip. Hurriedly removing his own shirt, he threw it over her drooping shoulders. “Thank you,” she whispered, wiping the tears from her eyes but not raising them to look into his.

“You're welcome,” he said quietly. “Look, Carly, I—"

“Oh, Robby, I'm so sorry!” she sobbed, throwing herself into his arms and holding on tightly with shaking and bruised arms.

“You're sorry? What in the world would you have to be sorry for?” he asked in a worried tone.

“I'm sorry for everything! I'm sorry I caused you so much trouble at work. I'm sorry for breaking up with you like I did. I'm sorry for not telling you that the sheriff had threatened me and for coming out here thinking Wyatt and I could handle this by ourselves. I'm sorry you had to find out the truth about your boss ‘cause I know you didn't want to believe it. But most of all, I'm sorry you had to find out the way you did and that you had to see me like this. I feel so ashamed."

“No, no, Carly. You don't have anything to be ashamed of or sorry about,” he said as she cried into his chest. “I'm the one who should be ashamed and sorry. If I'd just listened to you, none of this would've happened in the first place. It's all my fault and it'll take me a lifetime to tell you how sorry I am. Can you ever forgive me for being such a stubborn idiot?"

Nodding, she continued to cry into his chest.

“Can you forgive me for calling you crazy and giving up on us without a fight?"

The head nodding became even more vigorous and the tear-gush more copious.

Rob's eyes narrowed and his heart pounded wildly against her teary face as he held her in his arms and watched officers escort Sheriff Nagle to a patrol car. Darnell, who'd been keeping a watchful eye on Rob from the crime scene, must've recognized the flickering ember of vengeance once again forming on his partner's face. When Darnell jogged over to ward off another possible attack, Rob's body language retained its message of composure yet his expression displayed threats, as well as pleas. “Carly's doing just fine, Darnell. Wyatt will be back with the evidence soon and then we'll see what we need to do, right?"

“Right,” Darnell said with a nod, patting Rob's back encouragingly and turning to watch the bustle of activity that continued at the scene.

An ambulance had finally arrived and emergency medical technicians were immediately directed to Sheriff Nagle. They shoved Wyatt out of their way as he and the two deputies made their way back to the scene with camera in tow.

While Darnell and Rob silently awaited a verdict, a large black car pulled onto the cliff, coming to a skidding halt and stirring up a billow of dust. Flinging the car door open then hesitating to take in the surreal scene, Mayor Wright bore the face of a man angered to the brink of insanity. When he slammed his car door and marched toward his daughter with balled fists, Wyatt quickly inserted a new tape into his camera, and Darnell readied himself for another unpleasant intervention. Carly leaned into Rob's comforting yet stiffening embrace and pulled his shirt even tighter around herself, her face shrouded with shame. The mayor gave his only child a crazed stare for a split second before exploding.

“Well, are you happy now, Carly? Now that you're on your way to jail? You just couldn't leave it alone, could you? You had to see it through ‘til the very end and get yourself arrested!"

“I'm not being arrested, Dad!” Carly looked up at Rob, whose face held a discomforting expression. “Am I, Robby?” she asked in a frantic whisper.

Rob bit his lip and looked at the ground. “Of course not, Carly. Wyatt's got that tape ... Right?"

While Carly studied her boyfriend's uneasy expression, Mayor Wright lost his patience. “Oh, this is just great! My daughter's off to jail, and she's too dense to even realize it! Of course you're being arrested! That's what happens when you stalk the sheriff and interfere in police business! Why do you think I've been trying to put a stop to this nonsense for so long? Well, thank you very much! Thanks for blowing any chance I had of being reelected. You ungrateful, spoiled brat! I told your mother you'd—"

“Hold on there a minute, Mr. Mayor, sir.” Darnell held up a hand and pointed in the direction of the sheriff, who was being handcuffed and read the Miranda rights by one of the officers that had viewed Wyatt's tape.

His face washing out to white, the mayor turned toward his daughter bearing the look of a man sickened by his own prideful and potentially deadly mistake. After silently studying her scrapes and bruises then Rob's bloodied knuckles, he shouted out angrily across the cliff. “Hey, how about somebody coming over and helping the victim instead of the criminal for a change?"

Darnell and the mayor quickly stepped aside as a paramedic ran over to attend to Rob and Carly. When Wyatt walked over to investigate the extent of the injuries for both his story and curiosity's sake, the mortified mayor greeted him with a firm handshake, thanking him profusely for saving his daughter's life and declaring him a hero.

“I'm no hero, Mayor Wright. All I did was hide out in the bushes like a coward while Carly sacrificed herself to help somebody she didn't even know."

“But they said you called 9-1-1..."

“No, sir. I used Carly's speed dial to call Rob's cell number. He's the one who came with guns a'blazin’ and stopped this terrible thing before it happened. He saved Carly's life. These two are your heroes."

With grieving eyes, Mayor Wright watched the EMT examine the deep lacerations on Carly's arms, legs, and back that were inflicted by the man he had adamantly defended. When the medical technician turned his attention to Rob's wounds, the mayor approached his daughter, wringing his hands nervously. As his raw emotions finally poured forth, Carly still could not look into his eyes. “I didn't know, Carly. I swear I didn't know! I hate myself for how I've treated you. I doubt I can ever forgive myself for it, but I'm begging you to forgive me. Please, just look at me and tell me you'll forgive me!"

Carly raised her tear-filled eyes, glancing at her suspended audience before letting her gaze fall upon her father's face. Wearing a look of indignation, she parted her lips to reply, but no words, indignant or otherwise, would form. As beads of perspiration appeared on her father's forehead, Carly stared into his eyes, pressing her trembling lips together while calling for a ceasefire of the battle of mixed emotions waging within her heart and mind. When one single teardrop traced a path of deep remorse down the mayor's ruddy cheek, compassion filled her broken heart. “Okay. I forgive you, Dad,” she said quietly, allowing him to scoop her up into his arms as he wept with regret and realization of what could've been.

As father and daughter clung to one another and cried, Rob stood aside and stared at the ground. Just as he turned to leave, a large, shaking hand grasped his shoulder, stopping his departure. Turning around, he found Mayor Wright holding out his other hand, bearing a penitent expression. “I'd like to thank you for saving my daughter from that monster, Deputy. Job well done."

“Thank you, sir,” Rob said with a nod, shaking the mayor's outstretched hand. “My partner should be commended, too. He kept me from committing murder and going to jail myself."

“Well, I'm glad you won't be going to jail. I know that would make my daughter very unhappy."

“Yes, it would,” Carly agreed, wiping away her tears as she walked to Rob and wrapped her arms around his waist.

Rob looked ill at ease as he returned her embrace, but the mayor reassured him with a nod. “It's okay, Deputy. You have my full blessing. And Rob? I'd like to apologize to you for everything that was said and done prior to this moment. I have no excuse for my behavior other than being a little overprotective of my daughter."

“A little?” Carly asked with a deep frown.

“Okay, a lot ... Except when I really should've been,” the mayor admitted humbly.

“It's all right, Dad,” she said softly, patting his arm.

Without warning, three reporters who had snuck onto the scene unnoticed swooped in to pick apart their prey. “Mayor Wright, what do you think your chances are of getting reelected now that everyone knows you sided with a possible criminal rather than your own flesh and blood? Do you think the public will be as forgiving as Carly? Tell us how it feels to have supported and even socialized with the man who could've been your daughter's rapist.

“Carly, how do we know these charges aren't part of an elaborate scheme you've cooked up to bring down the sheriff? Isn't it just a little coincidental that your boyfriend was the first officer on the scene?

“Mr. Mayor, has your opinion of Carly's boyfriend changed now that he's responsible for saving her life? Mayor Wright? Carly? Can we get a comment, please?"

Rob whisked Carly and her father to the mayor's car, assisting Darnell in holding back the insatiable reporters. As they continued to fire inappropriate questions, Mayor Wright opened his car door and fell wearily into the driver's seat, locking his door and staring straight ahead. Rob and Carly stood by the car and watched as Darnell and other two deputies escorted the reporters back to their vehicles.

“You know what?” Carly said, still staring after the newsmen as Darnell struggled to constrain them.

“What?” Rob asked in a soft voice, staring lovingly down at her.

“I'm really starting to despise reporters!"

Thirty-one

The Speerings

With mixed feelings, I, Carly Wright, sit on this lone park bench and pen my final article for The Speerings. After careful consideration, coupled with much prayer, I submitted my resignation as journalist and editor-in-chief of this fine publication to Professor McCoy this morning following my final class here at Doral College. I've decided to move back home and take the rest of the summer off to relax, reflect, and consider in what direction I should now steer my life. While it saddens and frightens me to let go of a lifelong dream, I'm experiencing a newfound wonderment at the prospect of an unmapped future filled with exciting choices and endless possibilities.

At no time during the twenty years I've inhabited this earth have I taken one step without my sights set on a fixed target, until now. After experiencing firsthand the shocking reality of news reporting, I've decided that it is not the career for me after all. I discovered that I'd taken my love of writing and my desire to help others and melded them into a misguided fantasy of honest journalism that exists only in hopeful and naive minds.

Now, with my childlike idealism hanging in shreds around me, I stand in a vast hallway of open doors that lead to vocations I would've never considered just a short time ago: nurse, lawyer, police officer, social worker. Or maybe I should view my choices on the big screen: doctor, judge, detective, and dare I say it, politician? But there I go being idealistic again. A lawyer who actually helps people? A police officer not on the take? A politician with integrity? It would appear as though I have not completely lost faith in humanity or in myself, and for that I am grateful. Without a few people who can find the good in themselves and look for the good in others, there's no hope for any of us in this cold, complicated world.

As I step out into said world in search of a new dream, I simply must commentate on a few subjects one last time, as well as express my gratitude to several special people. I was offered a space in the editorial section of The Plitesville Sentry in which to have my final say however I declined. I feel comfortable in assuming that I don't have to explain the reasons why.

Because the truth has always been very important to me, I used to believe that reporting the news accurately to the public had to be the most admirable career I could choose. I acquired my love for the truth via continual head drilling from my grandmother on my mother's side.

Me-maw Duncan had to be one of the sweetest, most precious ladies to walk this earth, and I loved her more than chocolate ice cream and summer recess. She was a woman of many talents, but her most outstanding was preaching “fire and brimstone” sermons to her loved ones in the kindest, gentlest manner so typical of a true Southern lady. It was not so much guilt she heaped upon our heads, but rather inspiration to become the people God intended us to be.

When baking cookies, she'd make comments such as, “I'm so glad to know my little granddaughter isn't going to end up like these here cookies—all crispy and baked in the flames of Hades.” On a really hot summer's day she'd cool herself with a funeral home fan and say, “This heat's reminding me to get down on my knees and pray for my family members’ souls. I'm sure glad you're walking the straight and narrow, Carly. I don't think my arthritis will let me stay on my knees long enough to pray for everybody."

I remember one particular occasion when Me-Maw caught me in the act of telling a bold-faced lie. Her sweet smile never faded as the sermon commenced. “Carly, the Bible says God despises lying lips. Now that don't mean He despises you. It's sin He hates. Sometimes the truth ain't pretty, and sometimes it can hurt real bad, but you remember this, my child: It's better to tell somebody the ugly truth than deceive them with pretty lies. I want you to always tell the truth, even if you get to be a famous news reporter someday. Can you promise Me-maw that? I can't stand the thought of my Heavenly Father hating your lips or any other part of your precious little self."

I gave her my solemn pledge that very moment then renewed it again as I stood by her graveside just a few short years ago.

But dear, sweet Me-maw, you never told me what to do when I find it impossible to convey the truth. How do I show the proper gratitude to the men who risked their own lives to save mine? How do I possibly express appreciation to a crook like Deputy Handley, who cooperated fully with the authorities and confirmed every one of my accusations toward the sheriff in addition to numerous other crimes?

How do I admit to the world and to myself how grateful I am for guns, which I have always opposed yet were the very thing that halted my attacker? How do I voice my disgust at the security measures being taken for Sheriff Nagle when I've always been a strong advocate of prisoners’ rights? How do I acknowledge that the death penalty is justifiable in this case after I took a stand against it for so many years?

And on a lighter note: just how do I confess my love for a man whose mere presence renders me speechless? This last dilemma is one I look forward to spending the rest of my life attempting to solve. The others? Well, just as Me-maw said, sometimes the truth ain't pretty and it can hurt real bad.

At the time, I didn't realize that the truth could hurt the very one speaking it. Spending the rest of my life reporting the harsh truth is definitely no longer an option. Of course, reporting the truth of any kind doesn't seem to be an option when one works for a newspaper.

Isn't it amazing that the same publication that portrayed me as a villain only a few short weeks ago is now hailing me as a heroine who single-handedly saved the day and this town? Quite frankly, the scathing editorials were far easier to digest than these bombastic pieces of overcompensation that are as far from the truth as Plitesville is from Tinseltown. I am in no way a heroine. What I am is a wiseacre college kid with lofty ideals who acted impulsive and foolhardy yet received mercy and protection.

I don't regret my actions because the truth has finally come to light, and undoubtedly lives have been spared. However, the fact of the matter remains that I should've never placed my comrade and myself in danger by marching headlong into a volatile situation without having first called the authorities. Had the real heroes in this situation not appeared at the scene when they did, my best friend and I might now reside in Rolling Hills Cemetery, my tombstone reading, “Here lies the Wicked Witch of Plitesville."

I'd like to take this moment to say that I completely understand why I was so despised by the citizens of this town, and I don't hold a grudge toward anyone for their opinion of me. Looking back, I realize that I did not always handle myself in a professional or compassionate manner, and I'd like to apologize to everyone whom I've hurt in some way. I was so focused on making a name for myself and proving I was right that I sometimes forgot to consider how my actions and words might affect living, breathing, vulnerable human beings. And to make matters worse, I acted in this way even when complaining of being persecuted by the press myself.

I'd especially like to apologize to my family. It seems as though we all carry an imaginary license that grants us the right to treat our loved ones in ways we'd never dream of treating an acquaintance or even a stranger. Mom and Dad, I am truly sorry. If for no other reason, I should've kept my mouth and my typewriter closed because of my love and respect for you. Journalism is a dull knife. It doesn't appear very dangerous, but in the wrong hands, it can inflict a jagged wound. My hope is that this article can act as the sutures that begin the healing process for all wounds for which I am responsible. If only the fine staff at The Sentry would follow suit.

Our local newspaper's newest target is my dear friend Wyatt Gurnell, to whom I owe so much. (Yes, Wyatt, you have now fully repaid me for saving you from Ernie; may he rest in peace.) When the story of Sheriff Nagle's arrest hit the presses, it was reported that Wyatt phoned the police then hid behind a rock and watched the sheriff attack me until they arrived. He's been called a coward and a pervert and has suffered undeserved persecution, all because a reporter wanted to downplay the sheriff's despicable actions by adding a second villain to the story. Since I am no longer qualified for the position, Wyatt was their next logical choice. He's proven that he has what it takes to be a successful reporter, and the tired, creatively spent veterans at The Sentry are running scared yet again.

Well, don't worry, old timers. Mr. Gurnell poses no threat to your jobs. He's far too talented to work for a local publication in No-Name Smallville, USA. With the intestinal fortitude he possesses, I picture him flying overseas to film international stories for a major network. I envision him receiving the highest awards given in the field of photojournalism.

To set the record straight once and for all, Wyatt is as much a hero as the two officers who came to my aid. He placed the call that brought those officers to the scene. He captured the footage that proved the sheriff's guilt, while managing to escape captivity himself. When he heard my cries for help, he placed himself in danger by emerging from the cave and running toward the scene of the crime with only a rock as his weapon.

Many people would like to point the finger of shame at him for hiding away in the first place, but they have not thought their accusation through carefully. Had Wyatt made his presence known, the incriminating footage would've been found and destroyed, and the truth would still be hidden behind the sheriff's shroud of deception. Without that videotape, Deputy Handley would've never plea bargained with the police for a lesser prison sentence in exchange for full disclosure of Sheriff Nagle's many and horrific transgressions.

Without Wyatt's videotape, the two brave women who came forward to file charges of rape against the sheriff would still be attempting to live their lives underneath the smothering blanket of secretiveness and shame that held them captive for so many years. Without that videotape, it would've been Wyatt's word against the sheriff's—had Wyatt been allowed to live—and we all know which way that pendulum would've swung. Without that videotape, the young man tortured at the cliff would either be sitting in prison or buried alongside Wyatt and me at Rolling Hills Cemetery.

Wyatt Gurnell will always be a hero in my book. I may never be able to understand how such a sensitive, caring man can turn off his emotions when he turns on his camcorder, but I do know that without such people, the news stories I've always found so fascinating would not be possible. Thanks, Wyatt. Thank you for continuing to videotape even when the situation turned jeopardous. Thank you for making that life-saving phone call. Thank you for what you would've done had Robby and Darnell not arrived when they did. But most of all, thank you for being my friend.

I may have saved you from Ernie—may he rest in peace—but you saved me from the most frightening, destructive creature that has ever roamed this earth, and I'm not referring to Sheriff Nagle. The beast of which I speak was far more menacing than any crooked lawman in history. The monster Wyatt saved me from was myself. He not only drew me back out into the real world, but he's also the reason Robby and I are together. Since there are currently no words in the English language that can adequately express my gratitude, I'll move along to my next subject. Maybe one day the Websters will add a new phrase to their dictionary that might solve my very humbling dilemma.

Unfortunately, my next subject is just as humbling. How does one express her gratitude to officers of the law who are merely doing their job when they save a life? I've sent cards and letters. I've cooked meals and crafted homemade gifts. Upon one of the deputies, I've lavished hour-long backrubs and equally long necking sessions. Now, I'm attempting to pay tribute to them in the finest source of news in Plitesville, yet my actions fall miserably short.

Each time I say “thank you” to Robby or Darnell, I receive the same nonchalant wave of the hand and a casual “I was just doing my job". Well, all I can say is thank you, Deputies. Thank you for choosing to dedicate your lives to helping others and for continuing to do so in spite of the low pay, as well as the shortage of appreciation from the citizens you serve and protect. In John 15:13, Jesus said, “Greater love has no man than this, that he lay down his life for his friends.” Robby and Darnell live this truth each and every day of their lives, and I believe they're building up huge trunks of treasures for themselves in heaven because of it. Unfortunately, all I have to offer them down here on this earth is my most sincere, undying gratitude for their expression of the greatest love of all.

As I come to a close, I'd like to say that anyone who believes I'm gloating because I was right about the sheriff is sorely mistaken. I've seen the shocked, disappointed, and devastated expressions on the faces of loyal citizens and officers of the law. I've heard the difficult questions children have asked their parents. I've come to realize the embarrassment and ruination the Nagle family has been forced to endure. For once in my life I desperately wish I had been wrong. Plitesville has lost its innocence and will never, ever be the same. God be with us as we heal.

Thank you for taking the time to read my final article. I do believe I heard a collective sigh of relief sound across the county at the proclamation of my retirement. Please continue to pray for me as I seek God's plan for my life. There is one aspect of my future about which I feel truly confident. Deputy Robby Coad has asked me to be his wife, and I've agreed to become engaged—on a trial basis, of course. Any of the female readers who believe I'm gloating now are absolutely correct!

Farewell, Speerings, its staff, and its readers. It's truly been a learning experience pestering each and every one of you. God bless you and keep you under His protective wing as we move toward a brighter, freer tomorrow. And this fall, please remember:

“Reelect Carl Wright, the mayor who's not afraid to say, ‘I was wrong.’”

Meet Cheryl N. Warner

For forty years, Cheryl N. Warner wandered through the desert, munching on the manna of daily living and feeling as though something more was expected of her. One day she stumbled upon a land where the milk and honey flowed, but in the webzoom.freewebs.com/cherylnwarner/Dreaming.jpgform of pages and chapters. Her “whim” to write a book soon revealed itself as her Promised Land, a place of freedom, purpose, and rich, abundant blessings. God gave her the gift of writing and the season had arrived for her to use this gift on a larger scale.

Cheryl has never heard God's whispers of inspiration as clearly as she does when creating at her keyboard. She feels extremely privileged to provide readers with positive, uplifting stories—clean fiction that doesn't preach but rather portrays Christianity as the universal way of life. Her heroes and heroines exercise morals, self-control, and conscience, traits unheard of in most of today's literature. The driving force behind her writing can be found in Philippians 3:8. “Whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about these things."

The Speerings is Cheryl's third published novel. Visit www.cherylnwarner.com to learn more about all of her writings.

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