True Knight

by Patricia Logan

  I chewed the cookie that tasted as good as it smelled, chasing it down with a slug of the strong coffee while she chattered. It was like listening to background noise that I was only half hearing as I pondered my new surroundings. I was fairly sure I’d somehow found heaven when I’d answered the Internet ad for sheriff of a small town in northern California.

  “This is good.” I held out the remains of my cookie.

  “She’s good, our Precious. Come on. Let me show you your office and then I suppose you’ll want to see the cabin. I think it was really nice that the mayor had it spruced up for you after our last sheriff took off to unknown parts without a word to anyone. Anyway, you’ll see the cabin for yourself soon enough.”

  “That’d be nice. Thanks, Sally.” I followed her out of the small coffee room, turning down the hall and passing by an empty holding cell. When I’d spoken to Mayor Farrell about the position as town sheriff, he told me that they rarely held prisoners unless they were being transferred to Stockton where they’d see a judge and be locked up until trial. Prosper Woods didn’t have the jail capacity to hold anyone other than a quick overnight stay for a drunk and disorderly or a bar fight, the most common infractions I’d see. Mayor Farrell had assured me that the town hadn’t seen a major crime in decades.

  Sally opened the last door in the hallway to a bright room with a large window that let in lots of natural light. A large metal desk sat several paces from the door and a leather office chair was positioned behind it. One wall was paneled in a dark wood and on it hung several black-and-white photos of what looked like the town in past days. I walked over and stared in awe at one that pictured the same brick buildings I’d passed by as I drove into town. These were from a bygone era. The dirt streets were populated with horses. A wagon sat in front of what was now an updated bar. The painted sign read, “Prosper Woods Saloon”. A woman in long skirts and a frilly hat sat atop the wagon beside a man wearing a cowboy hat and boots.

  “That’s one of the first photos of the town as it existed a hundred years ago,” Sally said from beside me.

  I jumped. I hadn’t even heard her approach. I turned and once again noted her apple cheeked grin as she stared at the photo. I was pretty sure I was going to like Sally. She was friendly and seemed to have a sharp mind. I doubted there was much that got by the woman. I had the overwhelming feeling that she was more than capable. Something occurred to me as I walked over to the desk and set my duffel on top of it.

  “You said Dave works three days a week. He’s the other deputy?”

  “Oh, sure. You’ll meet him later today. He works at the garage on alternate days.” Sally looked around before turning back to me. “Well, I guess there isn’t much to show you.” She pointed to a file folder. “That’s a file for Buck Walters. He was picked up on a drunk and disorderly last night. I released him after he cooled off in the holding cell overnight. He’ll see the circuit judge when he comes ‘round next month. Until then, he’s released on his own recog.”

  “He’s a frequent flier?”

  Sally let out a low chuckle, nodding. “You could say that. He’s a moonshiner who lives in a rundown cabin in the backwoods. Comes ‘round whenever he’s had a good payday and hangs out at the saloon until Greg has to roll him out the door at closing. Buck usually goes quietly, but last night he objected to ending his binge and threw a few punches. Greg finally had to escort him out to the street by the back of his collar and the seat of his pants. I was headed home when one of the patrons gave me a call. Anyway, Buck’s not your problem today.”

  “I take it Greg is the bar owner?”

  “Bartender. He lives in Frederick just outside town about five miles. Floyd Reardon is the owner. He bought the bar from the daughter of its previous owner who wanted nothing to do with it. Floyd’s not around much. He leaves things to Greg who’s a nice enough guy if you have an overwhelming need for vapid conversation. That’s about all you’re gonna get out of him. Poor man ain’t exactly what you’d term a rocket scientist.”

  I chuckled. “Not too sharp then?”

  Sally laughed. “Greg’s as dumb as a bag of hammers but then again, he’s a hell of a nice guy. You’ll see once you get to know him as I’m sure you will. Other than the diner, the Prosper Woods Saloon is the only place in town to get a decent meal unless you do a lot of your own cooking.” She looked me up and down. “Do you cook? No offense but you don’t really look like the apron-wearing type.”

  I laughed this time. “Not much and you’re right about the apron. I cook only well enough to not starve which reminds me… I need to make a stop at the general store and pick up a few things to take to the cabin.”

  “Sure. Let’s do that now and then I’ll show you to your place.” She walked by me and I grabbed the duffel, following.

  At the moment, my small bag held all my worldly possessions other than a few boxes of books and clothes in the bed of my truck. More importantly, my duffel held my weapons which truthfully was the only reason I’d dragged it into the station to begin with. I doubted there were any thieves in town stupid enough to steal from the back of the new sheriff’s truck but clothes were replaceable, not my guns.

  We walked out into the bright sunlight and I followed Sally down the cement walk to the general store which was no more than a hundred yards from the office. A bell tinkled as we stepped inside the store and I was surprised at how spacious it was. From the street, I’d been fooled into thinking it was just a small store. Inside, I noted shelves filled with food taking up most of the space. On either side of the room, wall-to-wall refrigerators held a variety of frozen foods, meat, cheese, dairy, and a rather large selection of beer. Bottles of wine were placed in racks close to the counter at the back of the store and an old man stood behind the register. He was the same guy who’d glared at me as I drove by earlier and when he looked up, I got the same expression.

  “Morning, Sid,” Sally said, hooking a thumb at me. “I wanted to introduce you to our new town sheriff. This here’s…”

  “I figured that’s who you was when I saw you drive by,” he drawled, cutting her off. “Don’t know why we need a sheriff. Just adds another paycheck to the town’s already tight budget.”

  Sally turned to me with a shrug of her shoulders. “Sid is our town treasurer as well as running the store, Sheriff. Don’t pay him a whole lot of nevermind. You can’t reason with him when he’s being a pill like he is today.” She turned and sent Sid a frown.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Sid…” I broke off. “Sorry, I didn’t catch your last name.”

  “Sid Farrell, brother to Tom Farrell, the town mayor who’s a good for nothin’ layabout. Anyway, enough of that. I should tell you that Tommy had me stock your cabin with the barest necessities yesterday. That’s all you’re gonna get on the town dime. Anything else comes out of the generous salary that comes with the job.”

  I smiled. I had to admit Sid had character. Since the job came with housing at a cabin reserved for me, also covering utilities including Internet and cable, I was satisfied with the pittance the mayor had offered as salary. I didn’t need much and I had savings. I glanced around the place before returning my gaze to the older man who was still frowning at me. He was short and stout, bald with tufts of gray hair on both sides of his head. His eyebrows were bushy and animated like two gray caterpillars above his once blue eyes, now clouded with cataracts. He met my gaze, intelligence flashing in his uncompromising stare.

  “I’ll do as you suggested and make a list before coming back then. Thanks for stocking up the cabin, Sid. It was really nice to meet you.” I held out a hand and after a loud humph, the old man took it, staring into my eyes. A jolt of electricity shot up my arm and when I let go of his hand, I took an involuntary step back. He opened his mouth and cackled, and for just a second, I was surprised by the laugh. To that point I hadn’t even seen the man crack a smile. More unnerving was the tiny shock I was sure I’d felt. It had been like touching a frayed lamp cord. I shook it off a
s Sally spoke from behind me.

  “Sheriff? You ready?” she asked. “Your place is only ten minutes from town. You can follow me in your truck.”

  “Sure,” I said, dragging my eyes away from Sid. “Let’s get going.” I turned back. “Nice to meet you.”

  “I s’pose,” Sid said, back to glaring at me.

  I followed Sally into the sunlight and down the sidewalk, heading toward the sheriff’s station. We stopped when a young woman dressed in a pink frilly mini skirt stepped out of the post office, several shops down from the general store. She turned our way and smiled widely as soon as she spotted Sally. I was not only struck by her youth and beauty but by her white hair with its pink pompadour poof expertly drawn up to the top of her head and tied with a sparkling magenta bow. The pink cloth choker she wore enhanced her delicate neck. She held up her chin and pranced toward us, looking me up and down as she stopped in front of us. She held a stack of mail and a folded newspaper.

  “Hey there, Sally,” she said. “You must be the new sheriff. I’m Precious.” She stuck out her free hand and I took hers, smiling, noting how well-groomed her pink fingernails were. She’d painted them with some sort of sparkle polish that gleamed in the sunlight.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Precious. I’m Rome Harmon,” I said.

  Her eyes lit with excitement as I let go of her hand. “I thought it was Romeo.” She sighed. “I always wanted to meet a man named Romeo.”

  “Well, it is but please, call me Rome or just sheriff. No one calls me Romeo but my mom and an occasional librarian.”

  She grinned, leaning toward me, inhaling deeply. “Well, I think it’s so romantic. Prosper Woods has no romance at all.”

  “Precious, you should get back,” Sally said. “There’s no one at the station.”

  Precious glanced at Sally and stuck out her lower lip. I noticed her mouth was also painted a bright pink that complemented the peach undertones of her cheeks just perfectly. If I’d been younger and into women, I might have given the slender young woman more than a cursory glance. As it was, long-legged blondes didn’t do much for me when accompanied by a bustline as perfect as our dispatcher’s.

  Precious gave me a long-fingered wave and a smile as Sally and I walked to our separate vehicles. I climbed into my truck to make the ten-minute drive to my cabin, feeling very satisfied with my new job so far. Hopefully, the rest of my day would pass in much the same way.

  I followed Sally’s green Chevy Blazer out of town. As we drove down the two-lane highway, I glanced at the redwoods that were part of the sequoia forest on either side of the road. The trees were glorious. Most were typical redwoods but every so often one of the magnificent sequoias would appear like a reminder of primeval forests and dinosaurs. Sequoia trees were among the oldest living things on earth. They stood out from other redwoods because they were not only ten times the girth of the average tree, but taller than most skyscrapers. Some of these trees were three thousand years old. I was awed by their majesty and felt small and insignificant around them.

  The cabin the Prosper Woods town council reserved for me was not what I’d expected at all. I’d figured they’d most likely tuck me away in the forest in a small one- or two-room cabin. A two-story home built solidly of logs with chinking in between the sturdy trees was more than I could have asked for. There was a paved drive lined with flower beds and set just far enough back from the main road to give the place privacy. As I stepped out of my truck and closed the door, I heard nothing but the whisper of the leaves in the trees and the babbling of a nearby brook. Birds trilled and the sun shined. I was amazed by the sense of home I felt as Sally unlocked the front door and handed me the key.

  I stepped through the doorway and smiled. A huge, oval braided rug in shades of rust and brown covered most of the hardwood floor in the living room. A small kitchen table made of maple was surrounded by chairs with spoked backs. An orange glass bowl with silicone fruit sat in the middle of the table on a fat yellow doily that someone had painstakingly crocheted. The walls were paneled in golden planks and the sloping roof of the living room was repeated in the kitchen which was open to the small dining area where the table sat. A staircase was visible on the wall facing the front door and off to the side was a floor-to-ceiling rock fireplace with a hearth stacked with wood.

  I was charmed beyond belief.

  “Nice, huh?” Sally asked, turning to look at me for my response.

  “Wow,” I replied. “It’s more than I expected.”

  She looked at her watch before looking back at me. “I’m gonna head out then, Sheriff. Someone has to man the battleship.” She smiled, sticking out her hand. “There’s no rush at the office so I guess I’ll expect you tomorrow?”

  I nodded, shaking her hand. “That’ll be perfect, Sally. I don’t need longer than a few hours to get the truck unloaded and unpacked. Thanks for everything you did today.”

  “My pleasure. You have my cell. Call me if you need me.” She walked out the door and waved.

  I followed her and strolled to the truck, dropping the tailgate as she drove away. I waited until she was out of sight before hopping into the truck to begin dragging boxes into the cabin. I couldn’t get the silly smile off my face.

  Vincent

  I arrived at the small town of Prosper Woods, California, in the middle of the night, driving my late model Honda Civic. It was painted all black and decked out with all the features I’d ordered. Black leather seats, wood dash made on spec with a special hideaway built underneath the glove box to store my favorite weapon at the moment, a Desert Eagle handgun. Of course, it wasn’t the only weapon I had at my disposal. Other, more lethal weapons than the firearm, were a part of my anatomy and had been for the last seven hundred years.

  I parked on the street in front of the empty store I’d leased in preparation of the arrival of my belongings the following day, listening to the hum of the motor. As I shut off the engine, I glanced into the rearview mirror and smiled, dropping my fangs and examining the sharp points before retracting them quickly. I glanced around the dark street which was absent of even the tittering of nocturnal animals and exited the car.

  I withdrew the key to the store and inserted it into the front door lock, listening hard to ensure there were no humans in the commercial neighborhood. I stepped inside, satisfied that I was alone. I surveyed the dark space, determining that it was exactly as the real estate agent had promised, a storefront on main street that was large enough to house my extensive inventory of antiques.

  I had no idea whether the locals were the antiquing types but according to the real estate agent, there was a successful bed and breakfast located at the edge of town. Hopefully, the tourists would stop on in and buy things. I had no need for the money but I had to justify my reason for moving to town somehow. The bed and breakfast tourists, the little bakery with a good reputation on the corner, and the quaint nature of the shops up and down main street would all serve to explain my relocation to Prosper Woods from a small town back East. The townsfolk would never know I picked up stakes and moved every twenty years or so. It’s what I did when people began to realize I never aged a day past my twenty-eight years.

  I’d long ago memorized the floorplan of the store which my real estate agent had conveniently sent along with the long-term lease I’d been asked to sign. Aside from the thousand square feet of floor space, there was an office located at the back and a restroom for shoppers out front. Darkly stained oak shelving for small objects had already been installed on a bare wall as I’d instructed. The carpet was new, the paint fresh. The place was move-in ready.

  Most important to me was the fact that the space had no storefront shop windows and only the single door at the front of the building. As a result, I’d negotiated an extremely low price for the place as well as satisfactory lease terms. Secretly, I think the agent had been shocked that I was interested in leasing the space once he pointed out the lack of windows. I’d explained to him that I carried Tiffan
y style lamps which needed a darker environment so that customers could truly appreciate their delicate beauty and vibrant colored glass when lit.

  Yadda yadda yadda.

  It wasn’t important for anyone to know or even suspect I had a sensitivity to sunlight. Not that I planned on being around a lot during daylight hours. I’d already hired staff using Zoom on my laptop. I’d immediately hired the retired town librarian who had a penchant for old books and small antique jewelry and watches to manage the store. He’d referred a high school kid who was in the throes of decision-making revolving around which college to choose. I’d listened for about a half a minute to the reason why the kid had so much angst going on in his life and hired him to work part-time on a trial basis. They were the only personnel I’d need for the time being.

  I walked around the store and pulled out a notepad, writing down where I wanted to place the smaller things, finally checking out the office in back to make sure it was going to be roomy enough for the desk I brought with me from my last home. As I stepped out of the store and locked up, I scented animals and my ears perked up. Something charged through the undergrowth in a forest a mile away and I was certain they weren’t small beasts. They ran freely in the forest outside town. I felt the familiar tingle before my fangs descended. I retracted them just as quickly, slightly angry with myself at not having checked out Prosper Woods even more thoroughly before moving cross country to relocate here.

  At the very least, I should have made a trip out to California to make sure I’d be the only supe living in the small mountain town. Maybe I was wrong. Unfortunately, I never was. I sighed. It was too late now. My things would be delivered in the morning. Until I made other arrangements, I was stuck here.