The Shining Badge (20 page)

****

The clock in the tower of the city hall spoke with a metallic voice, rapping out five strokes. Judge Dwight Hightower pulled his watch from his vest pocket, stared at it for a moment, then said, “Clock’s four minutes late.” Snapping the face of the watch shut, he replaced it, then continued his walk down Main Street. He spoke to everyone he passed, and when he got to the county jail, the building that housed the sheriff’s office, he hesitated for a moment.

A cold anger had been seething in him ever since Jennifer Winslow had fired the Porters. In all truth, Judge Hightower despised the Porters. They were an embarrassment to him, nothing but white trash, dishonest and dirty and lazy. But their jobs in the county as jailers had kept them from pestering him for handouts, and now that was over. He had found work for them in a small town twenty miles away, but he had been forced to offer a favor to one of the politicians there. He hated to be under any obligation to other politicians, and now as he stared at the door that read SHERIFF, he shook off those thoughts and opened the door. Inside he found Billy
Moon and Jennifer Winslow in a conversation, which broke off as soon as he entered. “I don’t mean to interrupt, Sheriff.”

“It’s all right, Judge. Come into my office and sit down.”

“Hello, Deputy Moon.”

“Good afternoon, Judge,” Billy Moon said, his tone cold. No doubt Moon knew he and Max Conroy had planned to get rid of him as quickly as possible. Moon stared at him expressionlessly and then nodded at Jenny. “I’ll talk to you later, Sheriff.”

“All right, Deputy.”

The sheriff examined Hightower with a bland expression. “Glad to have you come around for a visit, Judge.”

Hightower studied the young woman before him. He had been quite a ladies’ man in his youth and still had an eye for an attractive woman. He had also become a keen judge of character, and as he took her in, he saw innocence but also a great deal of stubbornness.

“I’m sorry we had to cut the budget for your department, Sheriff, but we had to cut somewhere.”

Jenny smiled and said, “Oh, don’t worry about it, Judge. As a matter of fact, I’ve been talking to some of the other members of the council—especially the commissioner. I believe he’s had some second thoughts about the budget cuts. He says the action will be reversed if he can swing it.”

A fresh anger coursed through Hightower, for he knew that Trevor Gaines swung considerable influence. Nevertheless, he smiled as if highly pleased. “Well, that’s good, Sheriff.”

“I’m sure you’ll support him, won’t you?”

“Why, yes, of course.” Hightower was angry, but he never let such things show.

“Maybe you’d like to see the changes we’ve made in the jail.”

“Of course.”

Hightower followed Jenny into the jailer’s quarters, and she said, “We’ve completely redecorated it. It needed it pretty badly.”

The judge had seen his relatives’ quarters before, and now as he stared around at the newly renovated quarters, he was forced to say, “It looks very good.”

“A couple of the inmates were grateful for the dinner they got, and the breakfast, so they helped Noah. By the way, Noah just carried the evening meal up. Let’s go see what kind of a cook he is.” Without waiting for an answer, Jenny turned and went upstairs. The judge followed reluctantly.

When they stepped into the dining area, the inmates were all seated around the table, and Noah was standing at one end pouring iced tea into glasses.

“Well, it smells delicious, Noah.”

“It’s great, Sheriff,” Jimmy Duo said. “We got us a
real
cook now!”

The judge felt the eyes of everyone on him and forced himself to smile. “It does smell delicious . . . and these look like new plates.”

“Mr. Huntington donated some old stock. What is it you’ve cooked up here, Noah?”

“Well, we got some of my uncle Bubb’s barbecued ribs. We got cracklin’ corn bread, corn on the cob, and fried okra.”

“It’s the best meal I’ve had since I’ve been here.” The speaker was a tall, husky man with dark brown eyes. “You couldn’t buy a meal this good at a café.”

“And we got dessert too, Sheriff.”

“What kind of dessert?”

“This here is hummin’bird cake.” Noah lifted a round plate with a large cake coated with white icing.

“I ain’t never et no hummingbirds,” Jimmy Duo said doubtfully. “An’ I never heard of no cake made out of ’em.”

“They ain’t no hummin’birds in it, Jimmy,” Noah said, smiling. “It’s my grandma’s recipe. She called it hummin’bird cake ’cause it’s jes’ enough to feed a hundred hummin’birds.”

“Well, Judge, it looks fine, doesn’t it?” Jenny smiled at Hightower. “Would you care to sample some of it?”

“No, I must be going. Thank you for taking me on the tour.”

Jenny escorted the judge downstairs, and when they reached the corridor, he turned and said rather sternly, “We can’t pamper these people, Sheriff.”

“You’re right, we can’t, but I’ll tell you what. After Noah’s been on duty for one month, we’ll compare the amount that’s been spent on groceries with the amount the Porters spent for that same period of time.” A smile crept to Jenny’s lips, and she said sweetly, “It’ll be interesting to find out where the money’s been going, won’t it, Judge?”

Judge Dwight Hightower knew he had been outmaneuvered, and he hated it. He glared at Jenny, and she saw then the man beneath the smooth exterior. He was a carnivore, and she had made an enemy out of him. She already knew that, however, and said, “Come back anytime, Judge. We never close.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

“How Long Does Love Last?”

“Red Rover! Red Rover! Send somebody over!”

Recess, as always, was a noisy, active affair at James Miller Public School. One of the favorite games had been Red Rover, and now Kat clasped her right hand around the wrist of Dallas Sharp, and he in turn squeezed her wrist. With her other hand she held tightly to Maybelle Simmons’s hand. Her face was flushed with the heat, for August had been a scorching month. Now the line of youngsters all linked together, looked across the open space, and waited for a challenger. Red Rover consisted of one side linking hands and challenging the other side to send somebody over and try to break the link. If they failed, they had to join with that side.

“Come on over, Georgie Porgie, you big sissy!” Kat called out. “You couldn’t break a daisy chain!”

George Deighton, a sturdy fourteen-year-old, glared across at Kat. “I’m gonna break your arm, Kat Winslow! Get ready!”

Deighton lowered his head and ran full tilt across toward the other line. “Hang on, Dallas, don’t let him through,” Kat whispered fiercely.

“Why’d you have to make him mad? He’s the biggest one they got,” Dallas complained. He was fourteen, the same age as Kat, and gritted his teeth as George plunged straight ahead.

“Remember what I told you. We’ll get him,” Kat muttered, her eyes bright and her lips tense with effort.

Deighton gave a great yell as he reached them and threw himself toward the arms of Kat and Dallas.

But those two had a plan. Just as he lunged forward they both suddenly squatted and brought their arms down to the level of George’s knees. As he struck their arms and tripped, they rose up, causing the boy to turn a complete flip. He landed on his back and expelled a loud
Whoosh!
as he hit the ground.

“You didn’t break the line, Georgie Porgie!” Kat yelled triumphantly.

George Deighton lay for a moment dazed, then crawled to his feet. He was struggling for breath, but his eyes glittered with anger. He stood there speechless, aware of the laughter that broke the air. He tried to think of the worst thing he could say to Kat Winslow, and finally he blurted out, “Your sister ain’t nothin’ but a tramp! She goes around sleeping with every man in the county!”

The charge brought a bright flush to Kat Winslow’s cheeks. Without hesitation she flung herself at George, striking him in the nose with her fist and pummeling him as he fell over backward. He hit the ground, and although he was much larger, George could not stop the rain of blows that fell upon him. For a moment it was all he could do to defend himself. Then he struck out and caught Kat in the forehead with his fist. The blow unsettled her, and with a roar he came to his feet and struck out at her again. But even as he did, he was caught from behind and flung sprawling. Dallas had grabbed George by the shoulders and simply flung him away, and now he stepped up, saying, “You’re so tough you have to fight girls. Is that it, George?”

George scrambled to his feet and flung himself at Dallas, and when Kat joined in the fray, Johnny Satterfield, one of George’s best friends, threw himself into the fight.

The battle was sharp and furious, and Kat was screaming at the top of her lungs as she fought with all her strength, but suddenly Mrs. Williamson, the sixth-grade teacher, was there shouting at them. “You stop that this minute! You act
like a bunch of maniacs! All four of you now are going to the principal’s office.”

Blood was streaming from Kat’s nose and had stained the front of her white blouse. She wiped the blood from her upper lip and glared at George Deighton. “You ever say anything like that about my sister again, I’ll hit you with a baseball bat!”

“You be quiet, Katherine,” Mrs. Williamson said. “Now, all of you to the principal’s office!”

****

“Lewis, what in the world are you doing?” Looking up with a rather shame-faced expression, Lewis laughed. “I’m examining my sons. What do you think?” He felt a little foolish, for he had put all three babies in a semicircle in the parlor and had seated himself cross-legged and had been watching them for the past twenty minutes. “Nothing wrong with a man admiring his sons, is there?”

“Not a thing.” Missouri came over and knelt down, holding on to Lewis’s shoulder. He put his arm around her, and she smiled. “They are beautiful, aren’t they?”

“Well, they are now, but when I first saw them they looked like about five pounds of raw hamburger apiece.”

“Lewis Winslow! What an awful thing to say.” Lewis laughed and said, “I know better than to insult a new mother by saying bad things about her babies. But I will admit that they have improved a lot. Good-looking chaps all of them.” He squeezed her warmly and added, “They get their good looks from the Winslow side of the family, don’t you think?”

“Well, if you aren’t the most conceited . . . !”

“But they get their stubbornness from you, so I guess that’ll make them the most stubborn, best-lookin’ men who ever lived.”

“They really
do
look like you, Lewis.”

“How can you tell under all that baby fat?”

“Well, just look at them. They’ve got your chin and your
cheekbones too.” She reached over and pulled on Temple’s toe, and he kicked mightily. “They’re strong, healthy babies, and they’re going to be strong, godly men.”

Lewis squeezed her shoulder and said, “You know, I’m happier than I ever thought I would be, Missouri, but—”

“But what? What is it?” Missouri interrupted.

“Well, I think about how old I am. I’m fifty-seven. When the boys are twenty, I’ll be seventy-seven . . . if I live that long. I may not get to see them grow up.”

“Yes, you will.” Missouri’s voice was fierce, and she turned and took him by the shirt. Shaking him, she insisted, “You’re going to be around for a long time and see each of your boys grow up to be as good a man as you are.”

“Better than that, I hope.” They both jumped as the phone made a cacophonous jangle. “Who can that be?” Lewis muttered. He got to his feet, helped Missouri up, and went to the phone. Lifting the receiver, he said, “Hello?”

Missouri watched as he listened to the caller. She saw his eyes grow wide and then heard him exclaim, “I’ll be there as quick as I can make it.” He slammed the receiver down and turned to face her. “It’s Kat. She’s in some kind of trouble at school.”

“What kind of trouble?”

“She got into a fight. I’ll tell you about it when I get back. Here, I’ll put the boys back in their bed so you won’t have to pick ’em up.” He snatched up the babies with alacrity and plunked them down in their crib. Dashing out of the house, he threw himself into the truck and drove out of the yard, leaving a cloud of dust behind.

He drove at the top rate of the old Studebaker’s capacity and fifteen minutes later pulled up in front of the school. Shutting the engine off, he piled out and walked rapidly toward the building. When he went inside, he turned left and strode down to the principal’s office. When he entered the reception area, he ignored the secretary and walked right into the office and saw four youngsters, including Kat and Dallas
Sharp standing in front of Mr. Latimer, the principal. Latimer was a small man with blond hair and glasses. He tugged at his tie nervously and nodded. “Hello, Mr. Winslow.”

“What’s this all about, Mr. Latimer?”

“We have a problem with some of the students.”

“I’ll say we have a problem,” another man in the room said. “That girl of your needs to be whipped!”

Lewis turned at once and faced Albert Deighton. “What’s the trouble, Mr. Deighton?”

Deighton, a small-boned man with a pair of close-set brown eyes and a wide mouth, had a voice like a bullfrog. He was the editor of
The Daily Standard,
the newspaper that had printed that scandalous photograph of Jenny. Lewis knew Deighton had done all he could to get Jenny defeated in her race for sheriff. He was one of Hightower’s cronies, and Lewis did not care for him at all. Ignoring him, Lewis turned back to the principal. “Tell me what happened, Mr. Latimer.”

The principal began to explain and finally said, “I would have handled it myself, but George there called his father. Mr. Deighton wants your child expelled.”

“I didn’t start it, Daddy,” Kat said at once.

“Did you hit him first?”

“Yes, I did!” Kat said defiantly. “And I’m not sorry.”

“Why did you hit him?”

“It doesn’t make any difference!” Albert Deighton said sharply. “She started the fight—she’s the one that ought to take the responsibility.”

“If you don’t mind, Al, I’d like to know the reason for this,” Mr. Latimer said. “Now, why did you hit him, Kat?”