* * * *
Exiting the courthouse he had called his own for more than 20 years, he headed east, ducking behind buildings and cutting up back alleys.
“I never did get a chance to use this,” he said aloud, as he patted the revolver in his right front jacket pocket. He picked up the pace, with his slight build straining under the weight of the nearly 70-pound backpack.
It’s two hours before sunrise, he thought, and I need to be far up the road by then. The plan was simply to get out of town within a few hours and hide out until the early afternoon. The Sheriff would be too busy with trade days and the afternoon’s exhibition to do a full-on search. He would lay low at a secret fishing spot seven to eight miles out of town, and continue the remaining ten miles in the mid-afternoon, hoping to get to the cabin by dark.
* * * *
“What the hell?” said Sheriff Johnson as he put the key into the front door of the jail and tried to unlock it.
“What’s wrong,” asked Kate, who had practically forced him to let her help serve breakfast to the inmates this morning.
“The lock…it was already open!”
“I’m sure it’s just a deputy,” she said, trying not to smile.
It’s fine, she thought, but in a panic, she wondered who knew. Had the others seen or heard something? She was about to find out and soon.
Reaching her hand into her purse, she felt the smooth barrel of her semiautomatic pistol that her fiancé had given her just over a year ago and taught her to shoot with confidence. She wasn’t planning to use it, but she was not going down like the rest of the people in here if it went bad. After all, she had watched a woman hanged only a few short weeks ago.
“Piece of gum?” she asked him. He was staring at her fiddling with her purse.
“Huh? Ah no, but thanks for last night,” he said, with a wink.
“It’s just what I do, taking care of my man,” she said, smiling flirtatiously.
Let’s get this over with, she thought, following him inside.
“Sheriff, is that you?” called Ken from the back.
“Yeah, I’m here. Just getting breakfast ready. Have you seen my deputy this morning?”
“No, sir. Can you please check on Judge Lowry?” Ken asked. “I can’t see him, and I haven’t heard a word out of him since last night. None of us have. I hope he didn’t do something stupid to hurt himself…or worse.”
“Be right there,” the Sheriff said, picking up two trays, not wanting to waste a trip on this most important day.
“Judge, you all right?” he asked, as he put two trays under the other men’s cell doors. “You all right?” he called again, while Kate slid one under Ken’s cell door, getting a subtle thumbs-up.
“What’s going on here?” called the Sheriff loudly, resting his arm on the cell’s front door, fumbling for his keys. The door shook enough to see it was unlocked, and he entered in a rage, tossing the keys across the narrow room. “What the hell is going on here?!” he called out again.
Kate came running up behind, with her shocked face already formed perfectly on her high cheeks.
“Where is he?!” she gasped.
“That’s what I want to know. He was here last night for supper, right?” The question was directed at Kate and the other prisoners. Everyone nodded their heads yes.
“Where’s my lead deputy?” the Sheriff called out.
“I’m here,” the deputy called back from the front door, unaware of the situation. “Thought I would come in early to help get these guys ready for the show today,” he added, walking towards the back… “Is everything okay?” he asked when he received no reply.
“What do you think?” asked the Sheriff, pointing into the empty cell.
“Oh, no!” said the deputy.
“Unbelievable!” replied the Sheriff. “Let me see your keys,” he added, pointing to the man he had trusted for more than five years.
“What for?... Wait a minute! You don’t think I let him out?”
“He’s a Judge, not a ghost, so I’m sure he didn’t just float out. Besides, both his cell and the front door were unlocked, replied the Sheriff.
Ken was now officially more nervous about this than his jump, only hours away. He was happy Kate had thought to have his cell door relocked, and the paper he had consumed last night was digesting nicely.
“There are three copies of these keys. Only three. Yours, mine, and the set at home in my safe. When was the last time you heard him speak, Ken?” he said, realizing the last person in here was his girlfriend with the spare set.
“A few hours after she left,” Ken said, pointing to her but not saying her name. “He seemed fine last night. It was just this morning I didn’t hear him.”
“You locked the front door?” he asked her.
“Of course,” she replied, intentionally acting annoyed.
“I done heard it,” said James’ shooter. “Plus, she didn’t come near any of the cell doors, I can testify to that.”
“Your testimony I don’t need!” yelled the Sheriff.
James’ shooter realized she hadn’t said anything about what he did last night, and he still had a better chance of fighting Richard than just being killed. Besides, he had a plan.
“Let’s go up front,” said the Sheriff, still upset. “You—in my office,” he added, pointing to his deputy. “Kate, please wait outside.”
“Now, show me your keys,” Sheriff Johnson demanded from his right-hand man. “Did you let him out last night? Form some sort of deal with him?”
“No, sir, I didn’t.”
“So that just leaves Kate?” the Sheriff questioned.
“Well, sure, Yeah, I guess.”
“What would you do?” asked the Sheriff.
“I don’t know, sir. Maybe talk to her or me, I don’t know.”
“How many sets?” asked the Sheriff.
“How many what, sir?”
“How many sets of your keys did you have made?”
“Why, I’m not sure what you...”
“How many?” he screamed.
“Three, sir. Three more sets.”
“Why?”
“It’s just…well, I’m working a lot, way more than the other guys. I was always the one to open the jailhouse early in the morning and lock up at night. My wife was upset, and I hardly ever got to eat with my kids. So, I had a couple of other sets made on my day off a couple of years back and gave them to a few of my guys to help out, and even out the load a bit.”
“You made sets of my keys to my jailhouse without my permission?”
“Yes…well, yes, sir. But I’m really…”
“Lay your pistol on the table and your badge next to your keys.”
“Wait a minute. Just wait a minute!” said the deputy.
“Do it!”
Reluctantly he did as he was instructed, laying both his firearm and badge on the desk before turning to walk out the front door. He caught Kate’s eye, and his expression said it all. The trusted man was defeated, caught in a lie, and still had no idea what happened.
“You’re going the wrong way, deputy,” said the Sheriff from behind him, taking the safety off his weapon. “Back,” he motioned with his pistol. “We have an open cell that needs an occupant.”
“Please,” the deputy begged. “Please give me a chance to make this right. Kate, don’t let him do this,” he called out. The deputy was led back to the cell and there was a clank as the door was locked.
* * * * * * *
Chapter Five
Weston, Colorado
“I need some air,” said the Sheriff, brushing past Kate and out the door.
Getting on his radio, he called the rest of his men. “We’ve had a breach of the jailhouse. Judge Lowry has escaped. Check the courthouse and main roads around town, and don’t forget what day it is. Trading starts in one hour.”
Ken was feeling bad for the lead deputy, as the deputy had always been fair with him. He hoped he would be released eve
ntually.
“How is it that I can’t trust anyone?” asked Sheriff Johnson.
“You can trust me,” Kate said, hugging him.
“That’s not what I mean,” he replied.
“I needed to trust the Judge before, and James and my deputies now. Everyone is against me in my own town.”
“No, babe. It’s not like that at all. To be honest, Judge Lowry didn’t betray you until the very end, and James didn’t help him with his plan. And your deputy.”
“What about him?” he asked gruffly.
“He may be guilty of making some extra keys for a little time off, but I think that’s it. Today is a huge day for the town; you need him out around town, helping to keep everyone safe. The Judge is gone. So what? Isn’t that what you wanted? I mean, you didn’t have any plans for him anyway, and after today the jailhouse will be cleared out. He won’t show his face around here again. Why, I’ll bet he’s headed back to Pennsylvania as fast as he can get there. Besides, I thought you wanted to go fishing, just you and me… The old couple two doors down…the ones with the airstream trailer…”
“Yeah, what about them?” he asked.
“Well, I talked to them about a week back, and they offered to let us use it for a few days. We could take off Sunday after church and be back on Wednesday by lunch. What do you say?”
“I could use a vacation, but who do I trust while we’re gone?”
“You trust your lead deputy, James, and as long as that Ken guy you think so highly of makes it over the courthouse, you can count on him as well.”
“Wait here,” he said, walking back inside. “Come on out,” he called to his deputy as he opened the cell door. Walking to the office, he said, “Look at me in the eye, and tell me you had nothing to do with the Judge’s mess.”
“Sir, I had nothing to do with it and zero knowledge about any of it,” he said, looking the Sheriff square in the eye.
“Okay, I believe you. I don’t have any more time to waste on this. If you see him in town, shoot him on sight. Tell the other men the same.”
* * * *
Sheriff Johnson got the trading under way without fanfare, just like every other Saturday before. He spoke briefly with James VanFleet and Jason Davis about the Judge, ending with the statement that it might just be the best thing, after all.
“I’m betting he tucked tail back to the East Coast; and besides, I wasn’t really sure what to do with him anyway,” remarked the Sheriff. “I’m glad not to have him oversee any future elections in this town. He can’t count for crap. And James, today is your day. I’m sure you will enjoy it, and after church tomorrow me and my girl are taking a few days off to give the fish over in Lake Trinidad something to worry about. Happy trading, and I’ll see you in front of the courthouse at 4:15… Don’t forget the family dinner right after the strongman event!”
Ken was given as much time as he wanted to test the bike, and he inspected both ramps. He was never asked about the Judge by anyone and spent most of the morning riding start-and-stop sprints. He glanced every now and then at the overcast sky.
“Stay dry,” he said. “At least until 4:30. Then you can dump all you want,” he repeated a few times each hour.
Sheriff Johnson could hardly contain his excitement for the upcoming events. “Screw the Judge,” he told his girlfriend. “We have a show to put on, and it’s going to rival any town in the whole country. Who else would do all of this for their citizens? No one, that’s who! The people will talk about this for generations to come. And don’t even get me started about James. That old-timer Cam isn’t even half done with his chair, and I’ll be delivering mine today.”
“You’re a proud man,” she said, taking his hand. “Don’t stop.”
* * * *
Trading was getting bigger every week, as news traveled to the new borders of the once-tiny town. The booth count was up to 210, as everyone tried selling odds and ends from their houses and garages. Setup was free and required only a table and five percent of goods sold to be returned to the town, on the honor system.
“Are you ready, James?” asked Janice.
“Ready to go back to work? Yes, I am,” he replied.
“Not ready for an entire city program dedicated to you?”
“If it was you, honey, throwing the party, then of course I would be ready and excited, but it happens to be one of the two most powerful men in town, and I don’t trust either of them. But we will show up, accept the new chair, and I’ll be back to work on Monday.”
“Are you sure you’re up to it?” asked Janice.
“If I can sit here, I can sit in town. Besides, we’re behind on the greenhouses, and winter has a way of sneaking up on the ill-prepared.”
* * * *
James was happy to be getting around again. Jason helped him roll over a few dirt ruts to get to the family trading booth. “It seems everyone in town wanted to come by and say hi today,” pointed out Lauren.
“Yeah, Daddy. You’re real popular around these here parts,” said Billy, testing out the new cowboy shtick he had practiced over the last week.
“It is nice to be liked, son, I suppose,” he replied.
“What do you think the strongman competition is all about?” asked Jason.
“I’m not sure. And better we don’t ask when the Sheriff comes over here to make an appearance. I’ll bet it’s not what any of us are expecting. I am looking forward to the motorcycle jump, though, if I’m honest,” replied James.
“How do you know he’ll stop by here?” Jason asked, feeling uneasy.
“Because he’s a politician first…and Jason, you need to work on that.”
“What?”
“That expression like you have to take a crap every time you see or even hear anything mentioned about Sheriff Johnson.”
“Oh, that. Yeah, I’m trying.”
“I know you are,” replied James.
Sheriff Johnson did stop by, as advertised, dragging Ken around to each booth and bragging about the upcoming jump.
So much for the masked jumper, thought Ken. Nearly everyone knew by noon that he was the one who would be jumping this afternoon.
“I think you’re going to like what we’ve got planned, James,” said the Sheriff, pulling him aside.
“Oh, and before I forget. I let Judge Lowry go,” said Sheriff Johnson.
“Really? How did you decide that?” asked James.
“We just came to an understanding is all. He won’t be back, and if he stays away he’ll get to die of old age, if he’s lucky. He did give my deputies one hell of a car chase, though, in that old truck of his.”
* * * *
Ken had the afternoon to tool around on the bike but would need to end on a quarter tank of gas for the jump.
The Sheriff had two low-ranked deputies doing the last-minute preparations on the rodeo arena. The others were busy ensuring fair trade, but all would be on the clock this afternoon to ensure the guests’ safety as well as the containment of Richard and his opponent.
The air horn blew, as was the new normal to start and end the trade days, and traders packed up quickly, setting the required town donation on the ground in front of each booth, to be collected by truck and trailer.
“Everyone, please find your way to the front of the courthouse,” came the announcement over the loudspeaker. “Remember, the exhibitions will continue, rain or shine,” was heard as the first drops of rain splattered on the top of Ken’s helmet.
“Are you kidding me right now?” he asked, looking up to the sky. “All day nothing, and thirty minutes before my jump, you drop rain down on me.” Stay the course; it’s not all about you, he heard in his head—or maybe he said it out loud.
* * * *
People gathered around the front ramp on both sides, pointing to the top.
“Please, everyone. You will get a better view from the building’s side,” the Sheriff called out, “or you might just want to go around back to see if he sticks the landing
.”
He nodded to Ken, signaling it was warm-up time.
“Come one, come all!” Sheriff Johnson called out, as if he were about to ride a lion around the town square. “We have two spectacular events coming right up, with a special surprise in the middle.”
The Sheriff made his way to where James was sitting and asked him to come up to the front.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” he yelled through the bullhorn. “Today honors our Mayor for his heroic protection of some of our citizens a couple of weeks back, and our first death-defying stunt was one of my favorites growing up. In the spirit of the late, great Evel Knievel, I give you Ken, the Highflyer!”
The crowd cheered as Ken took a couple runs up to the ramp in classic jumper-style, waiving to the crowd.
“Eighty-two miles per hour,” he said to himself in a low voice… “Eighty-two…eighty-two.”
“One more practice run, and then let’s get to it,” called out the Sheriff as he passed by.
“Oh, that’s interesting,” Ken said only inside of his helmet, looking over at the Sheriff flanked on both sides—on one side was Kate and the other Ken’s current girlfriend. I need to get this done, he thought, before they all get too chummy and start talking about one couple getting invited over to dinner.
Vroom! He revved the engine, waving to the crowd. Vroom! He took off like it was the real deal, accelerating from first to second gear, pulling a quick wheelie for the enthused crowd, then shifting into third and fourth before slowing quickly, using both the front-hand and back-foot brakes… Seventy-three was the last speed he saw on the second-hand speedometer. That’s not bad, he thought. He was expecting to slip a bit in the light, steady drizzle.
Okay, Lord. This is it! Ken silently prayed. I know we don’t talk much, but you saved me the first time when I had a gun sighted on my chest, and ironically, I let the very same man go free that stopped it from happening. I guess what I’m saying, Lord, is that I’m a changed man, a better man than before you helped me out last time, and hopefully that’s enough to keep me alive. I do want to meet you eventually, but not today. Amen.
Next World Series | Vol. 5 | Families First [Homecoming] Page 5