ANGELA
Chapter Five – Sheriff
Simmons
Blake
walked slowly, stiffly, up the stairs towards Angela’s room. He cradled a mug of hot coffee in his
hands. The smell soothed his
spirit. Blake marveled at the comfort
and pleasure of little things in life.
He was surprised
to hear a loud male voice coming from Angela’s room. He knew it wasn’t Red. Red was downstairs cleaning up from
breakfast. Blake had assigned Eric and
Jamie fence-mending chores far from the house.
It was unlikely to be them.
Blake
quickened his step down the hall. He
turned the knob, and very quietly opened the door. Sheriff Simmons was holding both of Angela’s
hands in one of his rough, meaty, hands.
She was still unconscious but the Sheriff had pulled her into a sitting
position.
“Don’t
pretend with me girlie. I know when
someone is pretending. Calkin thinks he
owns this town, and everyone in it. He
don’t own the law. He can’t keep me away
from you. I need you to answer some
questions. It’s my job to protect this
town. I need to know about the other
thief that was with you, the one that got away.”
Blake
spoke in a deceptively quiet voice.
“Sheriff Earl
Simmons you’re going to let that girl down very, very gently.”
An angry red
suffused the Sheriff’s face.
Begrudgingly, he lowered Angela.
Blake sat down on the bed near Angela.
He began to gently massage the angry, red marks on Angela’s hands and
arms.
Blake
was furious when he realized that Sheriff Simmons had handled Angela so roughly
that she would have bruises. As he
massaged her he checked for the possibility of broken or dislocated bones. When Blake was certain Angela was only
bruised, he spoke again in a quiet, calm voice edged with steel.
“Earl, is this the
technique you use to question all your prisoners? Maybe you save this method for young,
vulnerable ones?”
Sheriff Simmons’s
face turned from angry red to purple.
Blake thought his head might burst.
“I
have every right, yes, a duty to question criminals in this town. You wouldn’t bring this one to me so I came
to her.”
Blake’s carefully
controlled temper finally boiled over. “You jackass, this
child is not a criminal, she’s a guest in my home!”
Sheriff
Simmons snorted, “Do you invite all robbers to stay at your home or only the
purty ones?”
“I’m not going to
stand here and exchange insults with you, Sheriff Simmons. You’re in my home. I am not bringing charges against this
child. That means you have no business
with her at all. I’ll thank you to get
out of my house. Don’t ever come back
without an invitation or a search warrant.”
“I’ll
just get that warrant from a judge to search your house. There must be a judge somewhere that ain’t in
your pocket, Blake Calkin.”
“Search for
what? The money never left the premises
until it was distributed the next day as payroll. Angela won’t be able to talk to you for a
long time, if at all.” Blake’s voice became deadly quiet. “If she lives, there is still no guarantee
that she will be able to speak again.”
Blake
walked straight towards the Sheriff. He
didn’t stop until they were two inches apart.
Blake towered over Sheriff Simmons by four inches.
Pointedly, Blake looked down at him and said, “I have never done
anything illegal. I never will. I have never influenced anyone with my wealth, position, or power. I never will.
If I hear that you’ve uttered those words to anyone else, I’ll have you
brought before a judge on charges of slander.
It wouldn’t do any good for you.
You might well lose the next election. Frankly, Sheriff, you have a very
big mouth. Keep it shut or I will shut
it for you.”
“Are you
threatening a Peace Officer?” Sheriff
Simmons asked, tapping his shiny badge with one stubby, dirty, forefinger.
Blake backed away and smiled. “I would never
threaten a sheriff. On the other hand, I
defend what is mine.”
Sheriff
Simmons turned. He grabbed his hat and
strode to the door.
“You haven’t seen
the last of me, Calkin.”
Blake sighed in
resignation. “Darn, I’m afraid you’re
right! You may let yourself out Sheriff,
it’s obvious that you know the way.”
Retreating,
the Sheriff’s footsteps echoed through the otherwise quiet home. As a finale he slammed the solid oak front
door. The bang shook the sturdy log house.
Red
came in to Angela's room, “Goodness
gracious, Mr. Blake. What in tarnation
is going on around here? That slam was
so loud I thought either we were having an earthquake or the dear Lord was
making His next appearance!”
Blake
chuckled. He shook his head, “I couldn’t get
Angela to sleep at all last night. She
was too hot, too cold, too restless, too sick, in too much pain, etc. Finally at five this morning I gave her the
strong medicine that Doc left if her pain was severe. In ten minutes she was asleep. I still can’t believe she slept through
Sheriff Simmons tantrum.”
Both
men looked at Angela. They were assured
that she was still sleeping peacefully.
“Red, what are we
going to do?”
“Mr. Blake, right
now, you’re going to eat the breakfast I left for you on the table
downstairs. Then you’re going to
sleep.”
“Red, I
can’t. I have bills to pay, payroll to
work out, and the paperwork to arrange for the sale of the stand of timber in
the canyon behind the house.”
“Whoee,
Mr. Blake, you are such an important man.
You’re so important that if you slept for a few hours the world would
spin out of orbit, get too close to the sun, and we’d all fry like bacon.”
Blake laughed. “I
get the point, Red. I guess I could
spare a few hours to sleep.”
Red
smiled. “I’ll be right here with Angie, Mr. Blake. Lunch is ready for the boys when they come
in. If I need you I know where to find
you.”
Red smiled with
pleasure, blushed with embarrassment, and said, “Shucks, Mr. Blake, don’t go
getting all sappy on me. We’re both so
tired we’re liable to bawl like a couple of old hens at a funeral.”
Chuckling
softly, Blake headed for the door.
“Thanks again Red. Remember, wake
me if…”
“I need you.” Red finished Blake’s statement. “Mr. Blake, you just remember the world will
keep spinning while you sleep.”
Without
another word, Blake headed downstairs for breakfast.
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