Sheriff Jenkins jerked himself awake looked around his surroundings and realized that he was in his car.
"Damn," he said out loud angry with himself for falling asleep and realizing that RaeLynn (Sabella) could've eased by him leaving town without him knowing it.
The Sheriff ran his hand over his face trying to push away the fog of sleepiness that still enveloped his brain.
Bringing his head forward he looked down the road towards Malcolm's ranch wondering if the object of his desire was still there. Jenkins knew that he could drive the mile down the road to Malcolm's ranch to see if his truck was still sitting in the driveway and before yesterday seeing that would've been enough to ease any fears he had about RaeLynn (Sabella) still being there. But it wasn't enough today, not after seeing her sitting behind the wheel of that strange contraption.
He thought about Malcolm and he smiled.
'What am I worried about?' he asked himself. 'Malcolm isn't going to let RaeLynn (Sabella) leave him or Culbert County.'
He laughed out loud realizing that he was worried over nothing. He had the best watchdog in the county keeping tabs on the object of his desire.
Sheriff Jenkins opened his car door and eased his morning tired body out of the car, raised his arms up, stretching out the kinks from having spent the night in said car. Then he walked around the other side of the car, unzipped his pants, pulled out his cock and began to relive himself on the ground, as he zipped his pants back up his radio went off.
"Sheriff, your Uncle is requesting your presence at his home," the dispatcher told him.
"Alright," the Sheriff replied, "I'm headed that way. That's where I'll be if you need me."
"Roger, over and out," the dispatcher replied.
Confident that his little bird hadn't flown the coop the Sheriff made his way over to his Uncle's house.
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Former court Judge Samuel James Wheats sat behind his desk, in his den, smoking a cigar listening to the citified private detective give him the same report that he'd received from every private detective he'd hired over the last thirty years.
"I'm sorry your Honor but that's all the information, I could get," the detective said. "If anyone knows what happened the night your wife died, they're either dead themselves, or they're not talking."
Judge Wheats thought this man stood a better chance of getting the information he wanted because he was colored.
He hoped the man's skin color would allow him to mingle with the local coloreds, listen to them talk and gather information about the fire that took his wife's life. But the local coloreds were being just as tight lipped as the local whites even after thirty years.
He knew that the information he wanted, was out there somewhere and that somebody besides the people who killed his wife knew who was involved that night, and he was determined to find out who was responsible no matter how long it took.
"Here's your money," Judge Wheats said placing a bundle of bills on his desk and pushing them towards the man. "I suggest you take the next bus out of town. I dislike failure and I hate paying for it even more."
The man didn't say anything he just took his fee, left the Judge's den and headed out the front door, where one of the locals was waiting to take him to the next town where he would take the next train back home.
Judge Wheats chuckled as he watched the man almost run to escape his presence. The man didn't have anything to worry about, at least not from him. He was saving his anger for the people who killed his wife.
He turned his chair around so that he was facing the portrait of his wife, Sarah Jane that hung over the fireplace mantel her face smiling face looking down at him.
He smiled when he remembered how he had to talk her into sitting for the portrait, how she thought it a pretentious thing to do. He finally got her to agree to sit for by telling her how happy it would make him to have a picture of her smiling at him even when she was angry with him hanging in his den.
That remark made her laugh, and she agreed to sit for it telling him if he kept making court decisions the way he did that it would really be the only way he would see her smile.
Who, knew that six months later that she would be taken away from him.
"You were right, Sarah Jane." Judge Wheats said looking up at the painting. "You always said that my actions would cost me something very dear to me, if I didn't change my ways. I just never expected it to cost me the thing I held dearest to my heart, you. But, I promise you Sarah Jane that I'm going to find out who took you away from me. I won't rest until I find out who robbed me of your presence in my life."
Judge Wheats imagined the disapproving look that would've appeared on his wife's face if she was actually in the room when he spoke his promise of revenge.
"Don't give me that look Sarah Jane," he said to the portrait. "I know you don't approve of revenge, but they must be made to pay. I know the people who did this is part of the Secret Brotherhood, but I'm not going after all of them. I only want the people who set the fire."
That was the only concession the Judge was willing to make, but even that had a time limit and time was running out. Pretty soon he would let the chips fall where they may and just like his Sarah Jane innocents would be caught in the crossfire.
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Ed sat in his driveway resting his head against the steering wheel of his car dreading what he was about to do. Go, inside his house and break his daughter's heart and tell her that the thing she wanted most in the world wasn't going to happen. She and Malcolm weren't going to get married.
Slowly easing out of his car, Ed made his way into his house. Once he was inside, he heard Carolyn on the phone telling someone about her pending marriage to Malcolm. He heard her call the person she was talking to Peggy, knowing that she could only be talking to Peggy Mason the combination society and gossip columnist for the local paper. Ed rushed over, took the phone from Carolyn and put it up to his ear.
"Don't you print that, Peggy," Ed said his tone threatening. "If you do I'll sue the newspaper and you personally."
He then slammed the receiver of the phone back on to it's base.
"Why did you do that daddy?" Carolyn asked her father. "I want everyone to know that Malcolm and I are getting married, you know the best way to do that is to put it in the paper."
"There isn't going to be a wedding," her father said.
"What?" Carolyn replied looking at her father, as if he'd lost his mine. "What're you talking about? Of course there's going to be a wedding, putting the wedding announcement in the paper will ensure that the wedding happens. Malcolm wouldn't dare back out once it's in the paper, he'll be trapped. He'll have no choice but to marry me."
"There isn't going to be a wedding, Carolyn," her father stated again.
