It was Goldman, however, who grew angry. Unable to shake Jenny’s story, he began to make personal illusions. “So you hired a moonshiner to be your informant, is that right?”
“He volunteered when he was presented with the problems. Besides, there’s no evidence of him ever selling moonshine liquor to anyone before doing so as an undercover agent.”
“Do you consider it proper for an elected official to deal with criminals?”
“Objection!” DeRosa said. “Calls for a conclusion.”
“Sustained. Where are you going with this, Mr. Goldman?”
Goldman was angry and showed it. He began to fire questions at Jenny, but when she kept her calm, he finally whirled and said, “No further questions.”
After that, the trial was rather short. When the jury filed out, Clay, who was sitting next to Jenny, said, “This won’t take long.”
“Are you sure, Clay?”
“I never saw such a clear-cut case.”
Varek was correct, for in twenty minutes the jury came trooping out, and the foreman said, “We find the defendants guilty as charged.”
Raymond Dent, the editor of The Record, let out a whoop and came over to put his hand out to Jenny. “Congratulations, Sheriff, you nailed those two!”
Jenny was pleased, and she accepted the congratulations of many who came by to speak to her.
Finally she saw Hooey talking with some of his friends and had said, “Excuse me. I have to go talk to Hooey.” When she approached him, she said, “Can I speak to you a moment, Hooey?”
“Why, certainly you can.” Hooey grinned.
He followed Jenny out into the hall, and she said at once, “Hooey, you’re not going to be any good as an informant after this, but I need a new deputy. I’d like for you to take the job.”
For once, words failed Hooey Hagan. He stared at her for a long moment and then shook his head. “You ain’t thinkin’ right, Sheriff. I’m a disreputable character. Ask anybody.”
“I don’t think you are so disreputable. You know these hills. You know every moonshiner in them. Clay says you’re tough enough to lift perdition and put a chunk under it. His very words. So, I want you to think about it.”
Hooey grinned broadly. “Well, that does take the rag off the bush! Me a deputy! I’ll do her, Sheriff. When do I start?”
“We’ll get you a uniform, and you can start tomorrow.”
****
Vito Canelli stared at the two men across from him. He had come back a week after the trial, and Judge Hightower and Millington Wheeler had listened as he had started out in a deadly tone but now was shouting. “The supply’s been shut off! Bootleggers are afraid to sell their product!”
“We’ll take care of it, Vito,” Judge Hightower said quickly. “Everybody’s a little bit shook up after Arp and Pender got convicted but—”
“There’ll be no buts to it! I put you two guys here, and we paid you good money and a bundle of it!”
Wheeler tried to pacify Vito by saying, “This’ll pass away, Mr. Canelli.”
“We’re not waitin’ for it to pass away. You don’t have an inside man in the sheriff’s office now, do you?”
“No, not really,” Hightower admitted. “But we’ll get somebody.”
“I’m through waiting, and my boss tells me to crack down.”
“What does that mean?” Wheeler said nervously. He was rather pale, because in all truth he was afraid of this man. He had gotten into this situation and now could see no way to back out. The minute he had taken money from Chicago he was trapped, and now he wished desperately he had never allowed himself to get involved.
Vito Canelli chewed on the stub of his cigar, then threw it on the floor and stomped on it. “I’m sendin’ some men down. They’ll know what to do. As for that sheriff, she’s got to go.”
“Well, she’s got another two years to serve,” Wheeler said tentatively.
“She gets out of the way or else.”
“Or else what?” Wheeler said despite himself.
“Or else we’ll take her out.”
The rest of the meeting was a blank as far as Wheeler was concerned. He had found that his hands were shaking, and he put them in his pockets to keep the other two from seeing them. After Canelli left, he turned to the judge and said, “We’re in trouble here, Dwight.”
“No, we’re not. You just keep your head, Wheeler, and we’ll be all right.”
“I wish I’d never gotten into this.”
“Well, you are into it,” Hightower said angrily. “So now you’re going to stay in it!”
Wheeler left Hightower’s house, and all the way home he was trying to think of a way to extricate himself from the situation. But he could think of nothing. When he got to his own house, he parked the car and went inside.
“Ellen and Andy are here,” Helen said. “Where have you been?”
“Oh, I had a meeting.”
“Well, they’re waiting for you. Go on in and play with them until supper’s ready.”
Wheeler went into the parlor, where he found his two grandchildren working a jigsaw puzzle. They came to him at once, and he picked them up. Ellen was eight and Andy ten, and they were the pride of his life. “What are you doing?”
“We’re working a jigsaw puzzle, Grandpa,” Ellen piped up. “Come and help us.”
“It’s almost suppertime.”
“Well, you can help a little bit. Look, I want that piece right there.”
Wheeler sat down at the card table and for fifteen minutes had managed to put Vito Canelli out of his mind. He was, however, brought back to his problem when Andy said, “You gotta take me hunting, Grandpa. Deer hunting.”
“Deer are out of season, Andy.”
“Well, let’s do it anyway.”
“It’s against the law,” Wheeler said. “We’ll have to wait until hunting season comes.”
“Aw, what difference does it make? Just one deer.”
Ellen was sitting on her grandpa Wheeler’s lap. She reached up and patted his cheek. “Grandpa would never do anything wrong, Andy. You know that.”
The child’s words struck at Wheeler. He was like a man that had been hit by a bullet, and he said almost nothing until Helen came to call them to dinner. As they went into the dining room, he said, “I wish I were as good a man as they think I am.”
“You are a good man,” Helen said.
Wheeler had told his wife nothing about his dealings with the judge and Canelli. He had been struggling to pay off bills and make headway after losing large sums of money. Now he said quietly, “You know, sometimes I wish we were back in that little shotgun house we first lived in.”
“That old thing! It was terrible.”
“I know. We didn’t have a dime, but we were happy.”
“Aren’t you happy now?” Helen said quickly.
Wheeler wanted to tell her what was happening to him, but she was part of the problem. She spent more money than necessary and liked to move up in society. For a moment he was on the brink of confiding in her, but then Andy said, “Come on, Grandpa, I’m hungry,” and the moment passed.
****
“I didn’t like that movie,” Jenny said as Luke Dixon drove her home after taking her to see Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.
“Why, I thought it was pretty entertaining,” Luke answered. The two of them climbed out of the car, and he walked her up to her house. When they stepped up onto the porch, he said, “Let’s sit down for a bit.”
“Sit down! It’s cold out here.”
“You’re tough. You’re a sheriff. Come on, we haven’t had a chance to talk much.”
“If you’d stop taking me to those awful movies, we’d have more chance to talk.”
Luke pulled her down in the swing and put his arm around her. “All right, let’s talk. You’ve gotten pretty good publicity lately. I think you’re making headway.”
“You mean people are ready to vote for me in the next election?”
“I�
��d vote for you. Prettiest sheriff in the whole world or anywhere else for that matter. Why, you’re a regular sockdologer, as Hooey puts it.”
Dixon suddenly pulled her close and, turning her to face him, kissed her soundly. “There’s your reward for being such a good sheriff.”
Jenny said, “You want to watch that kissing, Luke. It’s getting to be a habit.”
Luke was quiet, but he released her, and he was so silent she said, “What are you thinking about, Luke? It’s not like you to be this quiet.”
“I’m wondering,” Dixon said in an odd tone of voice, “if you’ve ever thought of me as a man you might marry.”
Dixon’s words caught Jenny off guard, but she was honest. “I guess every woman wonders that about every man she goes out with.”
Luke took her hand and held it in both of his. “Well, how do I rank?”
“I don’t keep score.”
“Maybe you’d better. I need to know when I’m winning and when I’m losing.”
“It’s not a matter of winning.”
“I disagree”—Dixon shook his head—”with those people who say winning doesn’t matter. If it doesn’t matter, why do they keep score? Come on, give me a progress report.”
Not sure that Dixon was entirely serious, Jenny smiled. “All right, on a scale of one to ten. Let me see. Well, personal appearance, seven.”
“Oh, come on! I’m at least a nine. Look, see these teeth?”
“Well, maybe an eight.”
“What about charm?”
“Oh, a nine at least.”
“Right, and I can keep that up for at least forty years. How about wit and intelligence?”
“A ten!”
“A ten! Well, now we’re getting somewhere. Financial ranking?”
“I’d say a two, if that high.”
Luke squeezed her hand and then said, “But look at the future. After I’m a senator I’ll be rich.”
“You’re too honest to be a senator.”
Luke put his arms around her and looked into her face for a minute. He kissed her again, but this time his kiss was deep and passionate. When he pulled his head back, he asked thickly, “How did that rank, Sheriff?”
Jenny gently pushed him away and stood up. “I think I’d better go inside.”
Dixon stood up too, and for a moment he simply stood there, looking at her. “Think about it, Jenny.”
Jenny realized then that Luke was serious. “Do you mean it, Luke?” she asked rather breathlessly.
“Wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t. You’re so beautiful, Jenny,” he said quietly. “And so fine. Everything you do is right and straight and true. It’s not bad for you to be around a man that thinks that, is it?”
Jenny was moved, but something inside made her hesitate and she did not know how to answer him. “Good night, Luke,” she whispered. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She stepped inside the door, and as she moved down the hall, she found Missouri rocking Michael. “How was your date?” Missouri asked.
“It was fine.” Jenny hesitated, then turned and said, “Luke asked me to marry him.”
“Are you going to?”
“I don’t know, Missouri. How do you know when it’s right?”
Missouri Ann smiled. “God told me to marry your daddy. That’s a good way.”
Jennifer Winslow hesitated. She bit her lower lip and shook her head. “Well, God hasn’t told me anything, but I wish He would.”
Missouri continued rocking after Jenny had left. She was troubled and did not know why. “Lord,” she said, “you’ve got to help that girl. She really needs it.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
A Matter of Guilt
As Clay pulled up in front of the Winslow house, he saw that the old Studebaker truck bearing a trailer was backed up to the pen where Clara, the prize sow, was kept. “Looks like Clara’s going off to market, Jamie.”
“What does that mean, Daddy?”
“It means she’s gotten big enough to sell and it’s time to sell her. It looks like they’re about ready to load her up.” Getting out of the truck, Clay walked around and, opening the door, picked Jamie up. “You’re getting big too,” he said.
Jamie giggled and puffed her cheeks out. “I am big. See?”
The two crossed the front yard and moved around the side of the house. By the time Clay got to the pen, he could hear Kat’s voice above everything else. As usual she was wearing ratty-looking overalls, and now she was standing in front of her father with a defiant look on her face.
“I don’t want to sell Clara, Daddy!”
“Now, Kat,” Lewis said patiently, “I’ve told you all the time you shouldn’t make a pet out of Clara. We’ve got to sell her to have money to live on.”
“But I love Clara!”
Lewis looked up and saw Clay standing there holding Jamie. “Hello, Clay.”
“Hello, Lewis. A little disagreement here?”
“I told this child she shouldn’t make a pet out of an animal that’s going to be sold, but she’s hardheaded. I think she gets it all from her mother’s side.”
“I am not either hardheaded!” Kat said loudly. She glanced over at Clint, who was grinning and said, “Clint, you don’t want to sell Clara, do you?”
“Well, that’s what we raised her for, Kat.”
“But you like her, don’t you?”
“I’m not overly fond of pigs,” Clint said and shrugged. “I reckon you’ll have to let her go.”
Kat took one look at Clara, who had stuck her snout through the rail and was begging for sweets. Kat’s face twisted, and without a word, she whirled and ran away, disappearing around the house.
“It’s hard on the child,” Lewis said, “but I warned her. She just wouldn’t listen.”
“I remember I had a speckled pup once, and my folks made me get rid of him,” Clint said. “It still hurts even to this day.”
“Well, that’s a little different,” Lewis said fretfully. “We’ve got to sell this hog. Come on. Let’s get her loaded.”
“That’s a mighty big hog,” Clay said, staring at the huge animal. “What if she doesn’t want to get in that trailer?”
“Well, she’s got to and that’s all there is to it.”
Lewis opened the gate to the hog pen and entered, his eyes wary. He lifted his arms and waved them wildly, yelling, “Get! Get on up in there, Clara!”
The sow, which weighed over five hundred pounds, stared at him. She had indeed become a pet, but only a pet of Kat’s. The man waving his arms did not please her, and she moved to one side quickly. Lewis jumped in front of her and called out, “You get in that trailer! You hear me?”
“Maybe I’d better give you a hand,” Clint said quickly.
And as Clint entered the hogpen, Clay put Jamie down and said, “You wait right here, honey. I’ll help the men load the pig.”
The three men formed a circle around Clara, who stared at them with her beady little eyes. She made a wild bolt, and Clint, trying to bar her, was knocked off his feet. He rolled in the dust and yelled, “Cut her off, Clay!”
Dust arose as the three men tried desperately to put the hog up the chute into the bed of the trailer, but she was almost as big as all three of them put together and built low to the ground. Time and again she would simply brush against one or the other of them and knock them down.
“What in the world are you men trying to do?”
Lewis had gotten to his feet, a grim look on his face, and saw Jenny leaning over the fence, staring at him.
“We’re trying to get this blasted animal into the trailer!”
Clay was dusting his uniform off, feeling rather foolish. “I didn’t come out to wrestle hogs, but I was sort of conscripted.”
Jenny looked at them with disdain. “Three grown men can’t put one dumb pig into a trailer? You are so helpless!”
“Well, I’d like to see you try it!” Lewis said grimly.
“Okay, I will. You wait r
ight there and don’t bother Clara anymore. Get out of there and leave her alone.”
“I guess we’d better mind her.” Clint grinned. “When she gets her back up like that, it’s hard to do anything with her. She’s worse than Clara here for bein’ stubborn.”
The three men left the pen, Clint carefully locking the gate. “What do you reckon she’s up to?” he asked.
He did not have to wonder long, for Jenny came back with a sack in her hand.
“What’s in the sack?” Clint asked.
“Apples. Now, you three stay quiet. I’ll take care of Clara.”
Stepping inside the pen, Jenny said soothingly, “Now, Clara, I’ve got a nice apple for you here.” She laid the apple on the ground, and Clara looked at her for a moment, then gave a series of oinks and came up. She chomped down on the apple and looked up eagerly for more. “Here’s another one, Clara. Don’t you like these nice apples?” Jenny laid the apple right at the base of the chute, and Clara at once came forward. She demolished this apple and oinked for more.
“All right. You can have this one.” This time she held it in her hand while Clara took it and ate it hungrily.
“Now, one more time. This one you’ll have to go after.” She held the apple up, and Clara moved to get it, but Jenny moved to stand beside the chute. “Here it is. Come and get it.” She laid the apple right on the lip of the trailer bed, and when Clara went up, she adeptly gave it a touch that sent it rolling toward the front of the trailer. Without a moment’s hesitation, Clara scrambled up the chute and entered the trailer, whereupon Clint, who was waiting, instantly closed the gate.
“I’d think that three grown men could outwit one pig,” Jenny said. Her eyes were sparkling as she came out of the pigpen, and coming to stand before her father, she dusted him off. “The next time you have something difficult to do, come and get me, Daddy.”
Lewis glared at her, then said, “I’m going to take all the money from this hog and buy myself something nice instead of buying you a present!” he said. Stiffly he walked around, got into the truck, accompanied by Clint, who grinned and waved. As the truck moved away with Clara rending the air with shrill piggish squeals, Clay shook his head with admiration. “That was slick, Sheriff. Next time I have a problem, I’ll bring it right to you.”
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