The Speerings

by

Cheryl N. Warner

Sheriff Nagle stood out among the legion of restless police officers like a stately oak, unmoved amid mighty gale force winds. He stared calmly into the dense woods common to southeastern Tennessee, no sign of urgency or annoyance on his perpetually stoic face. As his men awaited the go ahead to continue their search for the escapee, he casually glanced at his watch. The moment Deputy Brandon’s voice announced over the radio that the perpetrator had been spotted from the helicopter, Sheriff Nagle quickly interrupted. “Is the lowlife still on the move?”

“That’s an affirmative. But his pace has definitely slowed.”

“Good. Keep following him, and let me know when he’s on the ground,” Sheriff Nagle instructed quietly.

“On the ground, sir?”

“You heard me!”

“Uh… Do I understand that to mean you want us to fire on him, sir?”

“Of course not! Just keep an eye on him. He’s got to be plum tuckered out as long as he’s been running. Until he lies down to rest, don’t bug me with any more useless details!”

“Yes, sir,” Deputy Brandon said uncertainly.

Sheriff Nagle threw the radio mike on the front seat of his squad car then picked up the brown paper sack to see what his wife had prepared for lunch. “Baloney, again,” he muttered disappointedly, biting into the sandwich then unscrewing his thermos lid.

Deputy Sheriff Handley cautiously approached his superior, speaking in his usual fidgety manner. “Saul, didn’t I just hear Brandon say they had Northcutt in their sights? Everyone’s just waiting for the word to go in after him. What do I tell them?”

Sheriff Nagle continued to smack loudly on his sandwich as he answered. “First, get them blasted reporters out of here. Tell them they’re too close to the action and send them up the road packin’. Put a couple of deputies up there to hold them off. Tell the rest of the men to take a quick break then we’ll see what happens.”

“Yes, sir,” Deputy Handley said with a nod, turning and trotting toward the throng of reporters lined up along the edge of the woods.

Carly Wright, lead journalist for the student newspaper at Doral College, was among the crowd. “Just look at him sitting there eating his lunch like he’s at a Fourth of July picnic. He makes me sick,” she said to the cameraman from Channel Eight news.

“Yeah, but you can’t deny, he’s a good sheriff. We live in the safest county in the state of Tennessee. I’ll sure vote for him again.”

Carly rolled her eyes. “It’s not what he does. It’s how he does it. He’s as crooked as they come.”

“Who cares how he does it? As long as me and my family’s safe, I’m sure not going to complain. Besides, I think all those stories you hear are just tall tales made up by bored housewives. Nobody’s been able to prove any of it.”

“Nobody’s tried to prove it. They’re all too scared of him. Well, I’m sure not scared. I’m going to be the fire ant and the thunderstorm that ruins his little picnic and there’s not a thing he can do about it!”

As the cameraman scoffed at Carly’s self-assured enthusiasm, Deputy Handley appeared in front of the mob of reporters, a bullhorn in hand. “Your attention, please. Sheriff Nagle has ordered all reporters out of the area. Kindly move along up the hill to the end of Trammel road. There’s nothing here to see anyway, folks. We’ll let y’all know just as soon as we’ve apprehended the perpetrator. It shouldn’t be too long now.”

Carly waved her arm wildly. “Excuse me, deputy, but can you tell me how your men are going to apprehend Mr. Northcutt, when they’re all standing around here with their thumbs up their--”

“No comment. Now, you run along home, Carly. Your daddy will have all our heads if something happens to his little girl.”

“Can you tell me how Mr. Northcutt escaped from jail in the first place? Just how does a man get through steel bars and over a barbed wire fence without being seen?” Carly yelled over the sound of the helicopter flying above them.

As the retreating reporters turned toward Deputy Handley, awaiting his answer, the wail of ambulance sirens drawing closer caused the crowd to fall silent and look at one another with anticipation. The deputy quickly turned toward Sheriff Nagle’s patrol car and received a slight nod from his superior. Turning back to the reporters, he raised the bullhorn to his lips again. “Okay, folks, hurry it up. Get yourselves up the road and leave us to do our business.”

As the eerie cry of the siren grew louder and louder, the reporters and cameramen froze in their places, ignoring the high-pitched commands of Deputy Handley. When an ambulance and fire truck topped the hill, all cameras clicked on, and the reporters raced for the best filming spot along the edge of the police-lined wooded area. Sheriff Nagle watched the chaotic scene from over the roof of his car. A slight smile formed on his lips at the sight of the reporters practically scratching and clawing one another to be the first to capture the action as it unfolded.

Feeling the heaviness of someone’s attention pressing upon him, he turned his head toward the lone, wannabe journalist standing calmly by her car, her dark brown eyes intently studying him. Mayor Wright’s daughter had grown into a very attractive young woman, and the sheriff took the opportunity to thoroughly ogle every inch of the petite, slightly freckled brunette before turning away from her antagonistic glare.

“Dirty ol’ man,” Carly muttered, before turning toward the emergency medical technicians that were jumping from the ambulance and running into the woods.

While the reporters bombarded Sheriff Handley with questions concerning the need for medical personnel, Carly hoisted herself onto the hood of her car and waited. Soon a large group of police officers joined Sheriff Handley and, struggling to contain them, forced the clamorous reporters back to their parked vehicles as two paramedics removed a stretcher from the ambulance and pushed it into the woods.

When the twenty-five-year-old rookie named Rob Coad spotted Carly waiting patiently with her chin in her hands, he slipped away from his post. “Hey there, beautiful. Still looking for that Pulitzer Prize winning story, I see,” he said playfully, leaning against the hood next to her.

“Nah… I’m just looking for the truth, Robby. I don’t suppose you’d want to tell me what’s really going on, now would you?”

“Well, I just might… if you’ll dump that computer geek and go out with me.”

“Hey, he may be a geek, but at least I don’t have to worry about his computer shooting at him!”

Deputy Coad smiled and scooted closer. “So, you worry about me, huh? That’s really sweet.”

“You’re twisting my words around again, Deputy. I’ve already told you I don’t date anybody on the government payroll, especially one of Sheriff Nagle’s little disciples.” Even if he is the most muscular, best looking guy in town with those haunting blue eyes, that perfectly spiked hair the color of milk chocolate, and those stout lips that are just screaming to be--

“Aw, come on, Carly. Just think of the interesting inside scoop you could get if you dated a cop.”