Read Online Name Games by Michael Craft - Free Book Online Page A

placed squarely above the sheriff’s plate. We expected him to comment on the endorsement displayed there, but he seemed not to notice it, and I was certain he was being coy.
    Beaming, I finally asked, “ Well…? ”
    He looked at me, then at Neil, then back to me, asking, “Well, what?” His blank expression told me that he was not being coy—he was clueless.
    “ Doug, ” I said, tapping the editorial in front of him, “didn’t you see my column?”
    “No”—he laughed—“I didn’t”—he stopped short, reading the headline. Picking up the paper, he broke into a broad smile as he flumped back into his chair to peruse my endorsement of him.
    Watching as he read, I wondered how he could possibly have missed the editorial page earlier that morning—public officials invariably flip to it first, breath bated, wondering if anything has been said about them. Clearly, Pierce had not yet seen the paper that day. Then I noticed his clothes. Though it was Saturday, he wore a sport coat, dress slacks, and button-down shirt, as he would for the office, but without a tie. Though the collar of his shirt was open, little wrinkles radiating from the top button signaled that it had been worn before, with a tie, presumably yesterday. Focusing on his collar, I also saw that he was overdue, once again, for his daily shave. His chipper mood, his day-old clothes, his unread endorsement—it all added up. I was afraid to guess where he’d been overnight, but it was obvious that he hadn’t woken up at home that morning.
    “Mark,” he said, putting down the paper, “how can I thank you?”
    “By beating Deputy Dan and getting reelected.” I raised my coffee and clinked it to his, Neil joining the skoal—a silly gesture, perhaps, but it seemed appropriate.
    Pierce’s expression grew pensive. “I assume this endorsement was prompted by the report of the County Plan Commission?”
    I nodded. “That’s why I ran it when I did, but you needn’t doubt for a minute that the Register would back you, whatever the timing.”
    Neil was crumbling his muffin on a plate, picking out berries, popping them into his mouth; his fingertips were stained inky blue. He asked Pierce, “Do you suppose this Dr. Tenelli has a political agenda at work? I know you said he’s a revered old guy who’s dedicated his retirement to public service, but isn’t it a little fishy to call for a crackdown on porn in the name of ‘tourism’?” Neil had read details of the Commission’s report in the morning paper, and we’d both had a laugh over it.
    “A political agenda…” Pierce mulled Neil’s notion. “I can’t imagine what it would be. To the best of my knowledge, Dr. Tenelli has no connection to my opponent or to anyone in Dan Kerr’s family. And I’m sure he has no taste for Miriam Westerman’s campaign on moralistic grounds. Tenelli is a highly principled, ethical man—not a book burner.”
    “Hm.” I traced a finger around the rim of my cup. “Maybe it’s time we met.”
    “Maybe it is,” Pierce agreed. “I think you’ll like him, in spite of this obscenity business. So if you’ve got a slow day sometime next week, give me a call, and I’ll take you over to his place and introduce you.”
    “Thanks. He sounds like an interesting character.”
    Neil interjected, “The interesting character I’d like to meet is the Frenchman, Bruno Hérisson.” To Pierce, he explained, “Mark said he visited the Register yesterday. Trouble’s brewing in the refined little world of miniatures.”
    I was glad Neil had steered the conversation in this direction, as it might lead Pierce to drop some clue regarding his involvement, if any, with Carrol Cantrell.
    Pierce seemed confused by Neil’s comment, asking, “Trouble’s brewing? What do you mean?”
    Neil explained, “Bruno claims to have signed agreements with an elite group of artisans to become their exclusive distributor in America.”
    I added, “Glee Savage sniffed a juicy