“Where are they going in such a hurry?”
Sheriff Meadows careened his head around in time to catch a brief glimpse of Foster and Justine’s faces before the freight elevator doors closed. Confused, he turned to Agent Saunders who had just ended a very tense phone call with Director Fitz Hume about the upcoming press conference.
“Is there something new I should know about?” He tentatively asked.
“Who knows?” Since most of the damage was already done, Saunders didn’t bother to see which way they had gone or even care where they might be going. “I’ll tell you this. I don’t think either of them has sat in one place for over thirty minutes during the past two days.”
Meadow’s thoughts reverted to his earlier days on the police force where every minute in an investigation held the promise of one crucial lead, a lead that could break the case wide open. He was surprised how much he missed that feeling. “The exuberance of youth, I guess.”
“Youth?” Saunders frowned at the notion of leaping headfirst into the unknown, especially at his age. “I would prefer the wisdom of experience.”
The two weary lawmen made their way back down the hallway toward the prisoner’s room. As they meandered, both men couldn’t help but notice the somber and distraught hospital staff trying their best to go through the motions of their job. Saunders had seen enough tragedies to recognize the human toll that came with such horrible events.
“I can’t help but wonder if this town will make it.” Meadows kept his voice low and guarded. He was afraid that the wrong words might start an avalanche of dangerous emotions in the people he was responsible for protecting. He couldn’t live with that. “Nothing like this has ever happened here before.”
Saunders stared blankly down the hallway, trying to think of an answer to the Sheriff’s question. He had seen numerous communities rise to similar challenges and, in some instances, succumb to petty finger-pointing over the years. But like any disaster, only time would tell which way Elmira would go.
To his left, a nurse’s station protected the petite redhead that had been near collapse just thirty minutes ago. The young girl, eyes still swollen, had somehow managed to steady herself long enough to work on her charts. As they drew closer, she looked up from her work and offered the tiniest smile.
“Time, Sheriff Meadows.” Saunders tried to sound optimistic as he patted the beleaguered Sheriff on the shoulder. “Just give them some time, and your town will heal.”
Near the end of the hallway, Dr. Pan fidgeted nervously over a large metal chart. At the same time, he kept a vigilant eye out for anyone heading his way. As soon as he saw them, Pan curtly nodded his head like a scared animal then quickly ducked back inside the patient’s room without saying a word.
“There’s always been something about that doctor that’s made me uncomfortable.”
“What do you mean?” Saunders asked, only slightly interested in the sheriff’s opinion.
“I don’t know. Hard to put a finger on it.” Meadows admitted before stopping just outside the prisoner’s room. “I just hope he can keep him alive long enough to stand trial.”
“Once I get Agent Rushing out of your county, that shouldn’t be too hard.”
For the first time that morning, they found a reason to laugh. “But you’re still staying long enough to babysit my press conference, aren’t you?”
“Unfortunately,” Saunders remembered his phone call with the director and his unsubtle warning about possible changes to his retirement party plans if things went haywire one more time. “Although I don’t think we’ll be here much longer than that.”
“Understood,” he said. “But seriously, I just wanted to thank…”
“Hold that thought,” he felt his phone suddenly begin to vibrate. Fearing the worst, he plucked it from his pocket and accepted the call. After a few seconds, he relaxed. “This is the Bureau’s Public Relations office, Sheriff. I’ve got to take it.”
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“Of course,” Meadows apprehensively placed one hand on the door to the prisoner’s room. “I’ve got my own things to deal with.”
With a curt nod, Saunders briskly hurried off to find a quiet place to take his call.
“Joseph!” Meadows barked as he pushed the door open and strode inside. “We need to talk.”
Deputy Howlam was standing near the prisoner’s bed, hovering innocuously. “Yes,” he acted startled upon hearing his name but quickly regained his gruff composure in an instant. “I was checking to see if the prisoner’s restraints were still in place, Sheriff. Statute 34c states that…”
Meadows cut him off mid-sentence before he could truly get rolling.
“I know what 34c says, Joseph. I don’t need you to remind me.” At that moment, an interesting idea popped into his head, and for the second time in two days, Sheriff Meadows truly smiled. “Statute 71F deputy… ever heard of it?”
“71F,” Joseph looked confused. “No, I’m not aware of a 71F in the penal code, sir.”
“That doesn’t surprise me. How long have you been on duty?”
Joseph’s eyes darted from one side to the other like he was trying to add up the numbers in his head. After a second of mental finger counting, he settled on a nice round number, “37 hours, Sheriff.” The lengthy number brought a glint of pride to his round face, “About the usual.”
“That’s what I thought.” Meadows shook his head and looked down at the unconscious prisoner. Why did she leave this bastard alive? “Then consider yourself relieved, Deputy. I think it’s safe to say this piece of shit is not going anywhere for the time being.”
Meadows fully expected Dr. Pan to object to the insult. But he stayed strangely silent on the matter. In fact, he looked like a child waiting to be scolded. “So why don’t you go home and get some rest.”
“Sir,” Joseph didn’t understand the concept of rest or the need for it. “But I’m not tired.”
“71F,” repeated Meadows in his best boss voice. “You wouldn’t want to be in violation, would you?”
“What’s 71F?”
“71F states: no officer will be required or allowed to work more than one double shift in any 48-hour period.” Meadows started counting on his fingertips to do a little mental arithmetic of his own. “And by my calculations, you’ve worked three. That means you go home now. No questions asked.”
“But Sheriff,” Deputy Howlam pointed defiantly to the stranger. “What about him?”
Meadows sighed at his deputy’s enthusiastic nature. This wasn’t the first conversation he had with Joseph about taking time off. The man practically lived in that uniform.
“He’s fine, and he’ll probably stay handcuffed to that bed for days. Don’t make me call Allen. You know how much he loves escorting you home when you don’t want to leave work.”
“He should be rested enough to do it. Two-week vacation, wasn’t it?”
“Deputy…” Meadows said with an unassailable air of finality.
Joseph wanted to argue the point further, but he knew when he was defeated. “Yes, sir.”
On the small dresser near the prisoner’s bed laid his jacket and a small device that looked like a Kindle. Joseph picked both up, folded them underneath his arm, and turned back toward the door. “I thought I was going to be here for a while.”
“Well,” the sheriff gestured his thumb toward the door. “Now, you’re not.”
Like a stern father, Meadows waited as Joseph stalled for a few seconds trying to find various things to tidy up or inspect. Finally, like a disappointed child fighting against his bedtime, the obstinate deputy dropped his head and shuffled out of the room.
“And I’m going to send a unit out to your place in a few hours to make sure you made it there in one piece.”
“Don’t worry, Sheriff,” Joseph said reassuringly, clenching at the rolled-up jacket and tablet. “I guess I’m through here.”
With one problem down, the Sheriff poked his head out of the room and motioned for the nearest deputy to take over. As he waited, the doctor stood quietly behind him, going about his usual business.
“Sorry about before.” He motioned to the door sympathetically. “I know that the FBI can be a little pushy sometimes.”
“What do you mean, Sheriff?” Pan pressed his stethoscope to the stranger’s chest and listened.
“You know,” Meadows tried to think of a delicate way to phrase what he wanted to say. “The scuffle… the misunderstanding…”
Again, he expected the doctor to start into a tirade of insults but was caught off guard by the surprising amount of restraint the normally hot-tempered doctor could muster.
“It’s fine, Sheriff.” Dr. Pan wrapped a blood pressure cuff around the prisoner's arm and began to squeeze its tiny inflator, “Truly.”
“Ok… if you say so.” Meadows didn’t know how to respond as he waited for Joseph’s replacement to arrive. When he did, the sheriff relayed some instructions about vigilance and duty before heading back out into the hallway to locate Agent Saunders.
For that moment, everything seemed to have calmed down. Everything except for this nagging feeling of nervousness. Was everything finished here? Or were there more storms on the horizon yet to come?
