was a guy here then he’s long gone by now, especially when he saw a big fella like this coming after him.” The sheriff smiled and patted Patrick on his upper arm, finishing with a firm squeeze. Patrick flashed on Arty’s similar gesture at the gas station and this time he yanked his arm free. The sheriff dropped his smile and stared. Patrick instantly regretted his action. Not because the sheriff was a good guy (he seemed like an asshole), but because his ego still regretted the physical liberty Arty had taken with him. And of course, the sheriff was law—that was a big one too.
“I’m sorry,” Patrick immediately said. “I’m just…I guess I’m just frustrated. I’m very sorry, sheriff. I didn’t mean any disrespect.”
The sheriff slowly put his smile back on. “That’s alright, son. You’ve had a heck of a night. Can’t blame a man for getting frustrated when it comes to protecting his family.”
Patrick smiled and nodded a silent thank you.
The sheriff turned to Norman. “Nice seeing you again, Norm.” He looked at Amy, tugged the brim of his hat and said, “You take care now, folks.” He did not look back at Patrick.
The sheriff sauntered back to his vehicle with all the urgency of a man out for a midnight stroll, painfully obvious to Patrick that the sheriff had felt his time had been wasted, that he was eager to get back to the station so he could put his feet up and continue watching his belly grow.
Giving a final wave over his shoulder before oozing into the driver’s seat, the sheriff started his engine and left.
“Asshole,” Amy said once the flashing red and blue were colored dots in the distance. “Is he always like that, Norm?”
“Can’t say. I’ve only met him at picnics and community gatherings and such. He seemed okay there. This was the first time I ever saw him on the job. Seemed a bit condescending at times, didn’t he?”
“And then some,” Amy said. She turned to Patrick. He looked strange. “Patrick? You alright?”
“Yeah,” he said a little too quickly, shaking himself from the blender of thoughts in his head. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
Amy did not seem convinced. “You believe me, right?” she asked. “You believe I saw someone? The guy with the shaved head from Giant? You do believe I saw him outside our window right?”
Patrick did believe her. Initially. Now he was unsure. He knew how upset his wife had been earlier, and he knew that if you coupled that fact with the dark and relatively unfamiliar environment they were in, it was very possible that she did see something that wasn’t there—a cruel but common trick of the eyes.
And then there was the evidence. There was none. No shoe prints in the mud, no sign of the guy when he ran outside after him. As much as it pained Patrick to even consider it, maybe the asshole sheriff had been spot-on in his assumption that what Amy truly saw was an image of a man locked away in the recesses of her mind—unwillingly set free for a fleeting moment when her guard was down.
Still, Patrick was smart enough to know that betraying Amy’s trust was about as wise as pissing off Lorena Bobbitt, so he prayed his uncertain response gave authenticity. “Of course I do, baby. I’m just flustered right now, that’s all. That sheriff was a dick.”
To Patrick’s delight, Amy did not appear to second-guess his response. She just walked over and put her arms around him in a tight embrace. He hugged her back and kissed the top of her head.
“Would you like Lorraine and I to keep the kids for tonight?” Norman asked.
“Would you mind?” Amy said, pulling away from her husband and facing Norman. “I’d hate to wake them again. Plus it kind of makes me feel better to know they’re not…I don’t know…at the cabin he was looking in.”
“Wait, wait,” Patrick said. “I’m not too sure about that. Maybe it’s best if the kids are with us.”
Amy repeated herself, adamant. “I don’t want to wake them
“I’m sorry,” Patrick immediately said. “I’m just…I guess I’m just frustrated. I’m very sorry, sheriff. I didn’t mean any disrespect.”
The sheriff slowly put his smile back on. “That’s alright, son. You’ve had a heck of a night. Can’t blame a man for getting frustrated when it comes to protecting his family.”
Patrick smiled and nodded a silent thank you.
The sheriff turned to Norman. “Nice seeing you again, Norm.” He looked at Amy, tugged the brim of his hat and said, “You take care now, folks.” He did not look back at Patrick.
The sheriff sauntered back to his vehicle with all the urgency of a man out for a midnight stroll, painfully obvious to Patrick that the sheriff had felt his time had been wasted, that he was eager to get back to the station so he could put his feet up and continue watching his belly grow.
Giving a final wave over his shoulder before oozing into the driver’s seat, the sheriff started his engine and left.
“Asshole,” Amy said once the flashing red and blue were colored dots in the distance. “Is he always like that, Norm?”
“Can’t say. I’ve only met him at picnics and community gatherings and such. He seemed okay there. This was the first time I ever saw him on the job. Seemed a bit condescending at times, didn’t he?”
“And then some,” Amy said. She turned to Patrick. He looked strange. “Patrick? You alright?”
“Yeah,” he said a little too quickly, shaking himself from the blender of thoughts in his head. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
Amy did not seem convinced. “You believe me, right?” she asked. “You believe I saw someone? The guy with the shaved head from Giant? You do believe I saw him outside our window right?”
Patrick did believe her. Initially. Now he was unsure. He knew how upset his wife had been earlier, and he knew that if you coupled that fact with the dark and relatively unfamiliar environment they were in, it was very possible that she did see something that wasn’t there—a cruel but common trick of the eyes.
And then there was the evidence. There was none. No shoe prints in the mud, no sign of the guy when he ran outside after him. As much as it pained Patrick to even consider it, maybe the asshole sheriff had been spot-on in his assumption that what Amy truly saw was an image of a man locked away in the recesses of her mind—unwillingly set free for a fleeting moment when her guard was down.
Still, Patrick was smart enough to know that betraying Amy’s trust was about as wise as pissing off Lorena Bobbitt, so he prayed his uncertain response gave authenticity. “Of course I do, baby. I’m just flustered right now, that’s all. That sheriff was a dick.”
To Patrick’s delight, Amy did not appear to second-guess his response. She just walked over and put her arms around him in a tight embrace. He hugged her back and kissed the top of her head.
“Would you like Lorraine and I to keep the kids for tonight?” Norman asked.
“Would you mind?” Amy said, pulling away from her husband and facing Norman. “I’d hate to wake them again. Plus it kind of makes me feel better to know they’re not…I don’t know…at the cabin he was looking in.”
“Wait, wait,” Patrick said. “I’m not too sure about that. Maybe it’s best if the kids are with us.”
Amy repeated herself, adamant. “I don’t want to wake them
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