me out of the war that had taken the Sheriffs son. Cant go kill Krauts if you have flat feet. Men with flat feet can only kill wives.
Lovely room, Sheriff Jones remarked. Gets the early light, doesnt it?
Yes, I said. And stays cool most afternoons, even in summer, because the suns over on the other side. I went to the closet and opened it. That sense of certainty returned, stronger than ever. Wheres the quilt? hed say. The one that belongs there in the middle of the top shelf?
He didnt, of course, but he came forward with alacrity when I invited him to. His sharp eyes-bright green, almost feline-went here, there, and everywhere. Lot o duds, he said.
Yes, I admitted, Arlette liked clothes and she liked the mail-order catalogues. But since she only took the one valise-we have two, and the other ones still there, see it in the back corner?-Id have to say she only took the ones she liked the best. And the ones that were practical, I suppose. She had two pairs of slacks and a pair of blue denims, and those are gone, even though she didnt care for pants.
Pantsre good for traveling in, though, arent they? Man or woman, pants are good for traveling. And a woman might choose them. If she was in a hurry, that is.
I suppose.
She took her good jewelry and her picture of Nana and Pop-Pop, Henry said from behind us. I jumped a little; Id almost forgotten he was there.
Did she, now? Well, I suppose she would.
He took another flick through the clothes, then closed the closet door. Nice room, he said, trudging back toward the hall with his Stetson in his hands. Nice house. Womand have to be crazy to leave a nice room and a nice house like this.
Mama talked about the city a lot, Henry said, and sighed. She had the idea of opening some kind of shop.
Did she? Sheriff Jones regarded him brightly with his green cats eyes. Well! But a thing like that takes money, doesnt it?
Shes got those acres from her father, I said.
Yes, yes. Smiling bashfully, as if hed forgotten those acres. And maybe its for the best. Better to be living in a wasteland than with a bitter-tongued, angry woman. Book of Proverbs. Are you glad shes gone, Son?
No, Henry said, and tears overspilled his eyes. I blessed each one.
Sheriff Jones said, There-there. And after offering that perfunctory comfort, he bent down with his hands braced on his pudgy knees, and looked under the bed. Appears to be a pair of womans shoes under there. Broke in, too. The kind that would be good for walking. Dont suppose she ran away barefooty, do you?
She wore her canvas shoes, I said. Those are the ones that are gone.
They were, too. The faded green ones she used to call her gardening shoes. Id remembered them just before starting to fill in the well.
Ah! he said. Another mystery solved. He pulled a silver-plated watch from his vest pocket and consulted it. Well, Id better get on the roll. Tempus is fugiting right along.
We went back through the house, Henry bringing up the rear, perhaps so he could swipe his eyes dry in privacy. We walked with the Sheriff toward his Maxwell sedan with the star on the door. I was about to ask him if he wanted to see the well-I even knew what I was going to call it-when he stopped and gave my son a look of frightening kindness.
I stopped at the Cotteries, he said.
Oh? Henry said. Did you?
Told you these days I have to water just about every bush, but Ill use a privy anytime theres one handy, always assuming folks keep it clean and I dont have to worry about wasps while Im waiting for my dingus to drip a little water. And the Cotteries are clean folks. Pretty daughter, too. Just about your age, isnt she?
Yes, sir, Henry said, lifting his voice just a tiny bit on the sir.
Kind of sweet on her, I guess? And her on you, from what her mama says.
Did she say that? Henry asked. He sounded surprised, but pleased, too.
Yes. Mrs. Cotterie said you were troubled about your own mama, and that Shannon had told her something you said on that subject. I
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