Jason put his hand up to his face and walked out before saying something he wouldn’t be able to take back.
* * * *
“Everything all right?” asked James. “Anything I should know?”
“I was just trying to do something good, and it seems harder to do nowadays.”
“You’re right about that, but it’s still always worth a try. Let’s get some breakfast, Jason.”
“We’re Shakin’ Our Bacon for a Limited Time” read the sign on Weston’s Grill and Tavern storefront.
“I hope that means sausage, too,” remarked Jason.
“You found some pork, I see,” James said to the restaurant owner.
“Sure did, Mayor, at least for now. I’m glad to see you’re up and running...well, I mean…”
“I know what you mean, and it’s good to get out of the house,” replied James. “Now tell me about your specials this morning.”
* * * *
Breakfast was the real deal, and Candice, Carla and Jenna each had six pieces of bacon. Little Billy was full after his head-sized biscuit and four slices of bacon.
“Oh, and before I forget,” said the owner, “your family, all of you, have a reservation here Saturday night after the festivities, compliments of Sheriff Johnson. It’s been pre-paid, so please show up and help support our restaurant. It’s steak night, so don’t be late.”
“All right! We’ll be here! Thank you,” replied James.
* * * *
Meanwhile, back at the jail, the Sheriff was interested to speak with Ken. “It’s Thursday, Ken. I hope the chair is done.”
“It is, sir. Care to take her for a test run?”
“I do. Deputy, you two get it loaded, and I’ll meet you down by the river at the old fishing spot. I don’t want anyone to see it before Saturday. Be there in an hour,” he commanded. “I’ve got to take care of something first.”
Sheriff Johnson readied the breakfast trays. “Only a couple more days, gentlemen,” he called out. “I trust you will put on a good show for my citizens. Judge, let me know right now if you’re going to throw another tray of food. It won’t go over too well next time.”
Judge Lowry didn’t respond. He scowled but did not overturn his tray this morning.
“We need to talk,” he told the Sheriff after accepting the food tray. “Just us in your office.”
“You remember Kate, my girlfriend. Right?” asked the Sheriff.
“Yes, but what does that have to do with us talking?”
“She will be here soon, so we can all talk together.”
“That’s bull. Why would I want her opinion?” said the Judge.
“Because I do. Sit tight and eat your breakfast.”
* * * *
“Hey babe,” said the Sheriff as Kate walked through the front door minutes later. “Thanks for coming in today.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t miss this for anything—except maybe a trip to Hawaii!”
He called to his deputy to bring the Judge to his office.
“You want him cuffed, right boss?”
“No, I don’t,” he replied after seeing Kate’s head go back and forth. “Give us a few minutes, then bring him in.”
* * * * *
“Why no cuffs?” he asked his girlfriend.
“It’s more fun this way. I’m not worried about him overpowering you, or even me for that matter. But bring him up with no cuffs on, and he just might think he’s walking out of here, back into his old role. That’s the hope I want to take away from that dirtbag that always put you second over the years. Put the cuffs on at the end of our meeting, and the look on his face will be priceless.”
“Okay then. It doesn’t matter to me either way, so let’s get this done,” he replied.
The meeting started out friendly under the circumstances, with Judge Lowry pretending he didn’t tell the sitting Sheriff he had badly lost the election or that he told him his girlfriend ran the show.
“What we need,” started Judge Lowry, “is a path back to where we were before this whole misunderstanding happened.”
“There is no misunderstanding, Judge,” Kate jumped in. “You’ve been running my fiancé around like a dog on a leash for too long. And then you try to get James VanFleet on your side against us?”
“Not against both of you, and not even against you, Sheriff… What is she doing here, anyway?” he said, pointing to Kate. “She speaks for you now?”
The moment was awkward, and for the first time in a while, Sheriff Johnson could feel his stomach tighten. He thought of Jason leaving a room whenever things got heated. Now he was the one needing a break.
“Excuse me!” he blurted out, calling for his deputy to go into the office until he returned.
The Judge continued with Kate, sensing an opportunity and hoping to negotiate a peace treaty of sorts before the Sheriff returned.
“Cuff him to the chair,” she told the deputy.
“But the Sheriff told me to...”
“I’m telling you now,” she snapped.
The deputy did as instructed, cuffing his prisoner’s right hand to the chair, and stepped out.
“I’ll be right outside the door; just knock if you need me,” he said.
“I always figured it would come down to this someday,” started the Judge.
“Down to what?” she asked.
“You and me reaching some sort of agreement without him here.”
She smiled without a response.
“Okay. Here’s the deal,” she said. “You agree to leave this town and never return, and I’ll do my best to keep your neck out of a noose.”
“Why would I agree to that?”
“Because if you don’t, you will hang or maybe be thrown into a mix with the two soon-to-be gladiators back there, or following Ken jumping on a motorcycle over your own courthouse.” She paused, letting the words sink in.
“Oh, you mean the Ken in the back cell, who used to help with maintenance projects around the courthouse maybe five or six years ago?”
Kate kept her composure and didn’t acknowledge the accusation she knew would come next.
“Yes, the same young man,” he continued, “that was dating a local girl named Kate, I believe. You two were talking about getting married, if I remember right. I’m sure that’s hard for your new boyfriend…I mean fiancé…pardon my mistake. I just get confused when the Sheriff refers to you as his girlfriend, but you call him your fiancé. I’m sure there is a logical explanation. I’m sure it’s also hard for the Sheriff having you two former lovebirds so close to him now. Am I being obtuse?”
Kate paused, not being able to remember the last time she was at a loss for words.
“Oh, now I see,” he continued. “The Sheriff doesn’t know you two were lovers, so much so that you almost got married…”
She turned a fiery red and wanted to choke him to death with her bare hands. Without hesitation, she reached back her right hand, bringing it swiftly across his cheek, leaving four finger markings.
“I’m the only reason you’re not dead yet, Judge. If you breathe a word of this to anyone, I’ll have your head in a jar on my dining room table. Do you understand me?” she called out louder than she wanted, grabbing the collar of his shirt. “Do you?” she screamed as the door opened and Sheriff Johnson came back inside.
“I told you to stay inside!” the Sheriff spat to his deputy.
“We’re done here,” said Kate. “Judge Lowry has a lot to think about. Come on, honey. You promised me lunch at the Tavern and dessert at home,” she said, with a sassy yet flirtatious smile.
“That I did. Okay, let’s get him back in the cell, Deputy, and I’ll take it up again later.”
* * * * * * *
Chapter Three
Weston, Colorado
Sheriff Johnson drove them to the river and let Kate have the first crack at James’ new chair. He was talking with his deputy as Ken showed her the controls.
“He knows,” she whisp
ered. “Judge Lowry knows about us.”
“You know that I worked for him, and maybe I said your name way back then, but believe me, I haven’t said a word about it since then. Anyone else know?” he asked quietly, glancing back towards the Sheriff.
“No, not yet. Let me handle it and don’t speak a word to anyone in jail, not one word.”
“I can do that,” he replied.
“We’re okay,” she whispered. “Just follow my lead.”
“So, about this chair,” he said, speaking up as Sheriff Johnson walked up. “She’s ready to go. This way is forward, backward like this, and the steering is smooth. Watch out, though. She’s quick!”
Kate took off fast and navigated the off-road trail, winding next to the river with ease.
“You have to try this, babe,” she called out, laughing.
“Okay! Hold my pistol, Ken.”
“Really? Wait. Really…are you sure, sir?”
“Yep. Just don’t drop it.”
“See. I told you, Ken,” said Kate, smiling. “He trusts you now.”
“Then why not just let me go? I told him I would be happy to work for the town.”
“He could let you go now and probably wouldn’t mind, but it’s about perception. He needs to be both respected and feared by the citizens of this town. Your little stunt is a compromise. He ordered the best architect he could find and the best materials for the ramps. But you have to earn it. Show the people what they need to see to toe the line. That’s what the hangings did.”
* * * *
“This is the chair—exactly what I wanted! Good job, Ken,” said Sheriff Johnson, patting him on the shoulder, “and thanks for watching my gun.”
“Now, good to my word I’ll give you time to inspect the jump ramps and take the bike for a spin.”
“Sure, that sounds great. But why would you let me hold your gun, sir?”
“Well, I didn’t want it digging into my side,” he responded, taking the magazine out of his vest pocket and slamming it back into the pistol.
“You didn’t think I was going to give you a loaded weapon, did you?”
“No, sir. I guess not.”
* * * *
Ken rode the motorcycle—a modified 1995 Yamaha YZ 450—around the courthouse, gauging the handling and acceleration. He was given a 30-minute meeting with the architect, who proceeded to weigh him and the bike to determine the amount of gas needed to jump the bike, but not fully loaded. She handwrote the speed needed to mathematically clear the roof of the courthouse.
“Okay, Ken,” said the architect. “You want to hit the center of the ramp at 82 miles per hour, according to my calculations. We have the speedometer dialed in, and the top speed of the stock bike is 80 mph. The mechanic was able to boost that top speed to 94, but this is a dirt bike, as you know, and it’s going to be hard to control. So, on Saturday morning we will do some practice run-ups, making sure you can hit the 82 mph before you hit the front ramp. The landing ramp is over 200 feet long. Overkill, in my opinion, but that’s what the Sheriff wants. We have stacked hay bales at the end of the ramp, should you make it that far. Have you jumped before?”
“Yes, ma’am, but never anything like this.”
“That’s what I thought.”
“We’ll have Doc Walters and his group waiting at the landing ramp, in case they are needed,” the architect added. “Any questions?”
“Where do I start?” asked Ken.
“See that American flag hanging above the bank there? You will start right under the flag, giving you enough time to get into fifth gear at the launch, with about five seconds to spare.”
“What about the wind speed—if it’s gusty or something else?” asked Ken.
“That’s the only thing I can’t calculate precisely. See, this is a rain-or-shine jump. The Sheriff has been adamant about that from the beginning. I’ll be praying for a good day.”
“Me too,” replied Ken, thanking her for her hard work.
Ken was both excited and nervous about his jump in just two days’ time. His ribs hurt as he turned the bike in a large circle with sprint starts and stops. The finger splints would have to be removed Saturday morning for practice, as his grip on the handlebars had to be tight. Kate flagged him down as he was test-riding the motorcycle.
“Hey, Kate,” he said, lifting the visor of his helmet and killing the engine. “What do you know?”
Kate had never been at a loss for words, until now.
“We have a problem, Ken,” she started.
“What’s that?” he asked.
“What Judge Lowry knows about us. He remembers you talking about me when you worked at the courthouse.”
“That was a long time ago. Does it really matter?”
“Yes, and it’s the only thing right now that does,” Kate replied. “I never told him about us. I kept meaning to gauge his response before he could hang you or put you in the fight with Richard and the other guy. Then everything worked out, and you were given a stunt that you have a good likelihood of completing, in my opinion, and I thought we could just keep the secret between you and me. Both you and I have a lot to lose if he finds out.”
“Don’t you think he will eventually anyway? This is a small town, and people talk.”
“I understand that,” said Kate, “but I’ve been dating Sheriff Johnson for three years now. Even through the City Council election, nobody put it together…except for Judge Lowry.”
“But they will know when I jump,” Ken replied. “I mean, surely they will recognize me.”
“Nope. You’ll never take your helmet off, and I’ll make sure he doesn’t announce your name or have you run for office after. You will just be a close ally of his and mine who works behind the scenes, moving forward. If you keep quiet, I know I will.”
“So, what about the Judge?” asked Ken nervously.
“I threatened to put his head in a jar if he told anyone.”
“Ouch,” said Ken, starting to laugh and catching himself. “So, he’ll keep quiet?”
“Probably until right before he’s hanged or otherwise. Then he’ll sing like a sparrow because, well, why not?”
Ken paused… “I thought the jump would have my stomach all tied up in knots. But nope—turns out it’s this talk.”
“What do we do?” Ken asked.
“I’m glad you asked. I’ll make this quick because people are starting to stare over here. There are three sets of keys to the jailhouse and every cell. Sheriff Johnson has one, his lead deputy another, and the last set is right here,” she said, pulling a ring with six keys attached out of her purse, just high enough for him to see. “So, the short of it is, if you want to save your skin and mine, we have three choices. You kill him tomorrow night; it has to be before Saturday. Or we set him free in the cover of night, and if he’s smart, he’ll never return. In this scenario, the Sheriff and his men will be so focused on Saturday’s events they won’t have time to go looking for him for at least another day.”
“Wait…that’s it? What’s choice number three?”
“There isn’t a number three,” she said, with a sigh.
“Kate, I don’t like this at all. None of it.”
“Neither do I, but it’s him or us. I can control everything else, but not this unless the Sheriff decides to let him walk, and I highly doubt that now. It’s the only way, unless you have a better suggestion.”
“Can I think about it?”
“Sure, but don’t take too long. I’ll make sure I serve dinner tonight, so I can let the Judge know I’m serious. All I need from you is an answer of one or two when I ask how many ketchup packets you want.”
“Then what?” asked Ken.
“The note I pass you when I pick up the plates will have the next instructions. Eat it when you’ve read it.”
“Eat it?”
“Yes, there can be no trace of it, and it will go down in small bites. Understand?”
“Yes, Kate. Unfortunately, I do.”
She dropped the keys back into her purse, making a mental note not to forget to hide them in her special spot inside an old high-heel shoe in the back of her closet.
The third set always stayed in the home safe, but she had made two duplicate sets more than a year ago, taking an entire day and traveling up to Denver to use an anonymous locksmith. He questioned her at first, stating they looked like jail cell keys. She said, “That’s not your concern,” slipping him a crisp $100 bill before paying the flat rate charge per specialized key.
“Not bad for a high school dropout,” she said aloud, to no one else as she walked out to her car. Kate was never book-smart but she always considered herself streetwise, and she never once felt she was selling herself short.
* * * *
Friday came quickly, with everyone anticipating tomorrow’s happenings.
Convincing her fiancé to let her serve tonight’s jail dinner was easy with the promise of his favorite smothered pork chops when she returned and “whatever happens after that,” using the classic line she had heard once in a movie.
“Just slide it under the cell,” he called out as she walked out the door, “and don’t get within arm’s reach of any cell, no matter what.”
“Got it, babe. Just relax,” she said, handing him a jar of James’ finest. “I’ll be back in no time.”
“Don’t forget the keys,” the Sheriff called out. “You will need them for the front door.”
“Oh, silly me,” she called back. “Can you get them for me? I can never remember the combination to the safe.” The lie rolled off her tongue so smoothly she almost believed it.
“You should really know it,” he replied.
“That’s why I have you, my strong man,” she flirted as he retrieved them. “I’ll be back before you miss me,” she said, with a smile.
* * * *
Kate would take the truck down to the jailhouse with the meals she had prepared at home. She needed something that went with ketchup, and she opted to serve something quick and easy. After all, she was due to cook a special dinner for the most powerful man in Weston, and probably the county. Hotdogs and tater tots were on the menu at the jail.
The town general fund was paying for the meals, but the Sheriff’s budget was slowly draining. Ken was the exception, reminding him of a younger self. Or maybe the younger man he wished he had been. Either way, he was resolved to clear the jailhouse in one fell swoop, dreaming of a few days off, fishing at the lake his dad took him to as a young boy—Trinidad Lake Park. He would mention this to his girlfriend at least twice a week for the last three years.
Next World Series | Vol. 5 | Families First [Homecoming] Page 3