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Reality Was Never Far Away...
Detective Laura Kimber drank a bottle of room temperature water in the coffee room of the Newtown North Carolina Sheriff's Department. She was there to extradite a prisoner who committed several murders in Bridgeport Connecticut. She listened to the voices and sounds of the peace keepers in that room until it wound down. The contrast was startling. Here, in Hicksville, the deputies were talking about fishing and hunting and they were very good friends, and they trusted one another. The pace was slow and only got frantic when she arrived to claim her prisoner. It was as if they never seen a murderer before. Some of the deputies even took selfies with the caged animal.
The sheriff was a good guy, he treated everyone who came into the building with respect, and all the faces had names. He knew them all. It was a different world from the hard streets back home.
When a crime was committed here the citizens got involved and made sure the sheriff had all the right information. In Bridgeport, they sit on the stoop, drinking beer from a brown bag as they watch a shooting unfold. The police come and they just go back into the house, get another beer and say they didn't see a damn thing. It was just incredible that they could witness a robbery in broad daylight. The man gets shot twice, robbed and the stoop sitters never witness a thing. Their motto was simple, They just don't want to get involved.
The sheriff had Kimber fill out all the proper paper work and just smiled at her. She knew he really wanted to know how Jean Shaw escaped and made it all the way down to his town. She wanted to tell him that Shaw began to assume the position, then suddenly pulled a handgun from his jacket, the uniform tried to grab Shaw with his right hand and as a result, he was unable to pull his own revolver from the holster on his right hip. With the Uniform grappling for Shaw's gun, the trigger was compressed. The first shot went wide, but the second caught the uniform in his foot knocking him to the asphalt. It was there when Shaw made his escape. The other uniform was going to give chase, but decided to help his partner instead. Shaw fled wielding his gun wildly through a back alley. He almost ran down an old black woman carrying two shopping bags from Price Rite. The old woman screamed and dropped the bags. She backed toward the bus stop and crumbled at the stop sign.
The sheriff of Newtown fed the prisoner and made him very comfortable. Detective Laura Kimber grimaced when she heard that. The man they took pictures with and fed him like a king was a low down piece of shit. He was a bad ass and a criminal lifer. In order for him to get a car to head south, he stopped an elderly Hispanic man and pulled him out of the car. He beat him senseless. That old man lost the use of his right eye. Shaw knew he could have just pulled the old man out of the car and made his getaway, but instead he hung around to beat a seventy two year old man down like a mangy dog.
“How did you catch him?” Kimber asked.
“Bill Byrant's hound dogs cornered him in the alley near Berta's Diner,” the sheriff replied. “We were going to let him go, but he tried to shoot one of Bill's dogs. That don't sit to well with Bill. He always carries his shot gun and he aimed it square at your prisoner's chest. Any sudden move and he would have put a hole in him in a minute.”
“Anyways, we did a check on him and found out he was wanted for murder in your city,” he continued. “We put the call in and then here you are.”
The sheriff had no arrogance. He was a simple man, and even though his town was uneventful, he worked hard and treated everyone fairly. The people that lived here were able to call him at home if they needed something. He would even meet them on Sunday to help them with whatever they needed. It was mind-blowing for Kimber, but was this a place for her?
“You run a tight ship,” said Kimber as she shook his hand.
“Thank you, detective.”
Their conversation turned into vague mutterings and she decided to end it and give that sheriff the glory of having a rare, but precious victory over crime.
Before Kimber drove off with her prisoner, she stared at the sheriff's office. She thought about a life like that. Then reality bit her. She couldn't last two days here. She needed conflicts, drama, courtrooms, alleyways, and low down pieces of shit like Jean Shaw.
© 2016 Frank Atanacio