The first words August spoke out loud since last night carried the scratchy tone of one who had a restless sleep.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
She straightened herself in the chair and said,
“That’s no way to greet a lady who just made you coffee.”
Running his fingers over his stomach like he was looking for something,
August responded,
“The difference Madam Mayor, is that most ladies are welcome in my house.
Again, why are you here?”
“August, I am not here to fight with you. I know you had a rough night. Besides August, you look like you need more than coffee this morning. You’re a mess. What happened?
You look like you were in an accident, not Fr. Steve. What can I do?"
The mayor stood up, more to try and diffuse his dislike for her by showing her figure rather than displaying any kind of sympathy,
“I am sorry for your loss. I know you and Fr. Steve were close.”
August muttered a thank you while he poured coffee over the sink into a stained mug with a picture of the Arch in St. Louis.
As she walked closer to August, now with her arms crossed in front of her as she eyed the serpent and tree tattoo as if it was the first time she saw it, pausing for just a second,
“But there is a bigger concern here. You apparently have not been completely honest with the people of this county and more importantly with me.”
Taking his first sip of coffee, using it to delay the reaction building inside of him and speaking into his coffee mug,
“So, what’s your point?”
“My point? My God Sheriff, you are not what you sold to us as voters!”
“Do you feel like I sold myself to the people? If you remember, I was practically railroaded into the position.
Did you vote for me Susan?”
“I did.”
“Have I done a good job?”
“From what I can tell, yes.”
August bowed slightly as if he was in the presence of royalty,
“Then Madam Mayor, with all due respect, get out of my house. You might think you are, but you are not my boss. I work for the people of this county. I have a job to do and the voters wouldn’t appreciate you delaying my work day.”
August walked over to the door, kicked the screen door open and with a foot stuck on the threshold against the screen and held it open until Susan walked out.
August’s callousness had the effect he hoped. Susan slammed the door of her car and pulled away with obvious attitude, her tires spitting sand off the asphalt road.
Susan Park is the second term mayor of Watercreek. Most people found Susan attractive. She made a good appearance for the city and the people were proud to have her as mayor, but they also knew not to ruffle her feathers.
Something August usually ignored.
The ironic thing, many lunch counter and beauty shop discussions, carried out by the local gossips, agreed on what a great couple the two of them would make.
After watching Susan drive up the road towards the Courthouse, August stepped back into the kitchen and slumped into his chair at the table. He hoped the shower and last night’s sleep would erase what happened.
His chest tightened again and the pain in his arm was starting to overtake him. He reached in the cabinet next to him and pulled a dusty bottle of aspirin. He swallowed three with the last swig of coffee.
Chapter 11
It was obvious Mayor Parks did not have the whole story from last night.
The coffee and pills were bringing August around to clearer thinking which only made him angrier with himself and sadder over the loss of his friend. He looked up at the bulkhead above the kitchen cabinets. Hanging there was the crucifix off his grandmother’s coffin. A woman who after his parents died, did her best to keep him close to God and was so proud when he was ordained. August stared at the cross for a minute, walked over, pulled it off the hook and threw it in the junk drawer.
Right now he didn’t need anything reminding him of his past.
August turned to the counter by the door and pulled his Glock out of the end drawer, stuck it in the holster in the small of his back, draped the polo over it and walked out of the house.
Chapter 12
All the way down the back walk to the jeep, August was beating himself up for the way he treated Susan. However, the events of last night and her showing up this morning didn’t add to his fondness for her. She was an arrogant and stubborn woman, but he was upset with himself for buying in to the local chatter of her lust for gossip and power. He of all people knew better than to make those judgments but he just couldn’t see her perspective on city government as anything more than an annoyance.
Turning the situation over again in his mind,
“I’ll apologize to her later. She isn’t going anywhere.”
August knew the first thing he had to do today was start his investigation of Fr. Steve’s SUV. By this morning it would be down in the local impound lot two blocks over from his office.
In his short time as Sheriff August checked countless vehicles in the lot after accidents. It was a routine job. Many times, it was easier to discover the cause of the accident in the lot when you could take your time and no one else was hanging over your shoulders trying to get to the answers before you.
This time of a year, late night single car accidents were predictable. Beer cans were often found scattered on the floor of the vehicle or maybe a couple bottles pitched out the window several miles before the accident. It bothered August to think about Steve’s vehicle mixed in with the other wrecks.
August knew without looking he wasn’t going to find any easy clues in this situation. Steve was too cautious of a driver to be drinking or driving careless. August was with Steve more than once coming back from deer hunting trips in blinding snow. Conditions that made even August nervous. But Steve handled the slips and slides like the car was on rails. Steve could probably drive that stretch of Highway 160 with his eyes closed. For him to go off the road meant something went very wrong.
Something was not right, and August had his suspicions.
One of the clues that troubled him about Steve’s car was the fact it was on the opposite side of the road and there was no evidence of blowouts or skid marks. Based on what he could see from his quick scan last night there were no other vehicles involved. Steve just shouldn’t have this kind of a wreck.
Steve would never drive at speeds necessary to roll a vehicle in such a flat area. There were times when August would try to get Steve to drive a little faster so they wouldn’t miss the morning hatch on their favorite lake. Steve’s response was always,
“I prayed for a slow hatch, we’re fine. Drink more coffee”
August stopped in the office before going to the impound lot. He was a one-man operation. The budget for the county was too thin to provide for a deputy or office staff. The office was just as he left it at the end of the day on Saturday. He left in a hurry that day planning to spend Sunday fishing up and down the Nassau River. He needed the time away from the job and some of the politics of the county. The all-day rain spoiled those plans and he resisted any desire to return to the office on Sunday to catch up on paperwork.
The annoying message light on the answering machine was flashing like a car turn signal. The faster it flashed, the more messages it contained. August hated that machine. Any machine that demanded his attention as this one did was on his list of things to ignore.
“I might as well get it over with.”
Sitting at his desk August pressed the voice mail button. After going through several complaints about noisy parties, dogs, cats and trespassing complaints he got to the heart of the calls.
The calls played back oldest to new.
“August, this is Steve, I have Angelina. She is anxious to meet you. I am driving back from Omaha right now. She came in on the afternoon flight right on schedule.
She look
s just like you thought she might so she was not hard to find.
You sending those flowers for her was a nice touch.”
The next message was Steve again,
“August, we have a problem….” The call ended.
August played the message over again listening for any background noise. Nothing
Again he played it.
Nothing.
August let the other messages play.
A local newspaper reporter, Bill Anderson, just doing his job but still snooping, came up next.
“Sheriff Hawk, Bill Anderson, give me a call. I know you and Fr. Steve were good friends, just want to get your reaction.
Oh, by the way, sorry about your friend.”
The state police headquarter out of Lincoln was the next call.
“Sheriff, we need an accident report when you can. You can fax it over. Also, when you have an I.D. on the other victim we need it for our files.”
August reached with his good arm to hit the delete button, but he missed when the pain grabbed him again just like last night. His arm slammed the answering machine sending it to the tile floor and shattering across the office.
August followed right behind it.
Struggling to get up he made it as far as the door and fell against it blocking entrance to the office.
Chapter 13
Michelle Heights locked the office door behind. Her life in Watercreek was still a work in progress. Since taking the medical examiner job here a year ago, she was still trying to find her place in the community. She is thinking California girl stuck in the middle of farm country might have been more of change to bite off. She was also the only professional woman of color in the community.
She couldn’t shake the feeling that half the people’s opinions were stuck back in the 60’s and the other half were just being polite trying to keep an awkward situation even less so.
Thank God for the August. He at least talked to her like a professional and the fact they shared a history of service in the Marines didn’t hurt. More than once she made August blush with her comments about the two of them. On several occasions she said to August,
“Come on Auggie, let’s go out and compare war stories.” Every time she did August managed to change the subject.
She knew he was interested in her. The age difference was not the issue even though she was twenty years younger, and for sure it wasn’t a race thing. August was just one of those guys you could tell neither of those issues were a concern, but there was something there that just wouldn’t let the real August come out.
Michelle had Fr. Steve and the mystery woman from the accident down in her morgue. She knew the condition August was probably in this morning losing his best friend. She was always a little of jealous of Fr. Steve. Now she was feeling guilty about maybe having a better chance for August’s attention with Fr. Steve gone.
Her plan this morning was to stop by Bill’s, grab some coffee and donuts for her and August and see if she could cheer him up a little.
Pickup trucks outnumbered little red sports cars in this town. It wasn’t hard for anyone to keep tabs on Michelle’s comings and goings. She felt the eyes. The constant surveillance was one of the things that was making it hard to get close to Auggie. She stopped by his house one day to drop off a report and before she got back to her office Mayor Parks was on the phone making pleasant conversation but digging as to what she was up to.
“Well, this morning will get everyone talking again.”
The red Porsche slipped into the reserved spot on the Courthouse west side. The morning sun was still casting the shadow of the building over the lawn, parking spots and across the street to Bill’s diner.
Inside Bill’s is where she felt the most uncomfortable. The diner was the hangout for old white guys sitting around drinking coffee. Every one of them turned toward her as she walked through the door. Not only was she the only woman in the diner, she was also the only African American. Even if there would have been a few African American men, she would have felt better.
Bill greeted her as she approached the counter,
“Good morning Dr. Heights. You look good this morning. It’s nice to see beauty compared to these crusty characters I deal with every day. What can I get for you?”
“Two cups of coffee to go and whatever donuts the Sheriff likes.”
“Why do you want to take him anything?”
That comment caught her off guard. She thought Bill and August were friends. More than once she saw Bill, Fr. Steve and August in here swapping fishing and hunting stories like a couple of “good ole boys.” What’s the deal now?
“You know about the accident last night don’t you Bill? Fr. Steve and some poor lady are laying in my morgue right now. I’m sure August is crushed.”
“Yeah I know all about that. Too bad for Fr. Steve. August will just need to find a new friend. Here’s your coffee and donuts.”
Bill motioned for Michelle to move closer over the counter.
“Let me tell you something about August just between you and me. He’s not what he seems to be.”
Michelle left the diner very confused. Bill was fine until he found out the coffee and doughnuts were for August. She always thought Bill kind of liked her. This was the first time he ever charged her for coffee. He always used to say,
“Veterans discount.”
Coming out of the diner the July heat hit. The shadow that provided a cool path was growing shorter. The heat on her face made her start to sweat. She felt a little silly worrying about it, but she wanted to look her best for August this morning.
Chapter 14
Susan Park was standing at her office window watching Michelle pull up, run across to the diner then come out with coffee and a bag. She watched as one woman slapped her husband as he spent too much time watching Michelle cross the street. Susan couldn’t blame him. She hated to admit it, Michelle was probably the best thing he was going to see all day, next to her of course.
Susan timed her exit out to the hall to make it look like she was meeting Michelle by accident.
In a sing song practiced political voice, Mayor Parks greeted Michelle,
“Good morning Dr. Heights, and how are you this morning. Getting hot out there already isn’t it?"
“It is, but I am getting used to it. Thank God for air-conditioning. Have you seen August this morning?”
“Now that you asked, I did. We had a nice conversation this morning over coffee at his house. Poor man, he is just all tore up over Fr. Steve, and the news we learned about August this morning. Well, I am still trying to process all of it.”
Playing the polite game right back at Susan,
“Madam Mayor, I don’t know what you are talking about. Bill just said something like that to me over at the diner.”
“Well I am sure August will fill you in. He must be down in his office I saw his jeep on the other side of the Courthouse.”
“Thank you, Madam Mayor. You have a good day.”
Mayor Park watched Michelle move down the hall way. Her tennis shoes making little mouse squeaks on the polished tile floor.
Even more puzzled now, Michelle moved a little quicker down the hall to August's office.
Chapter 15
Juggling the coffee and donuts to free up a hand, Michelle turned the knob on the old wooden door and pushed in. The door opened about two inches and then hit a block.
A harder push didn’t open it any farther but did force the bag of donuts out of her hand.
Bending down to pick up the donuts she could see through the crack of the door the body of August laying against the door.
“God damn it Augie,” Michelle shouted as coffee spilled over the floor. Michelle planted her feet and put her shoulder to the door. This time it was enough that she could get her slim body through the crack and step in.
August was laying on the floor he was unconscious but breathing.
Punching in 911 on her cell Michelle connected with the o
ffice that was only a couple doors down.
“Get someone to the Sheriff’s office immediately, possible heart attack.”
Dropping the phone beside August body she started CPR while tears started to well up.
Barking like a drill sergeant,
“Come on Marine. Wake up.”
No response from August.
She checked for a pulse again. Still very weak. No sign of response from August. She continued the chest compressions. Two paramedics came through the door. Neither one dressed in uniform yet.
Michelle continued as they set up to work on August.
A crowd started forming outside the Sheriff office door. It didn’t take long for Susan to show up and start making all sorts of concerned sounding statements.
One of the paramedics pulled Michelle off August and took over with the compressions while the other started an EKG.
The siren of the ambulance pulling up echoed through the halls of the Courthouse.
Two more paramedics burst through the door with a gurney and immediately started lowering it and spreading the sheets and blankets out.
One of the medics leaned into his shoulder and spoke muffled words to someone on the other end of the radio.
Michelle resisted giving orders but instead let them do their work until one of the medics felt August gun in its usual place in the small of his back. He pulled it out like he had just birthed a child.
He looked around to the other medics,
“What do we do with this?”
Michelle jumped in,
“Give it here,” her Marine voice was still active.
Without question the medic handed it over. Michelle popped the clip out and racked the slide ejecting the chambered shell she knew would be in there. The medics for one second stopped the process as each guy was shocked by this good-looking lady handling a firearm as easy as she might turn the key in her fancy sportscar.
She tucked the gun under her blouse in the tight waistband of her jeans.
Necessary Sin Page 6