The sheriff was quite pleased with himself. As he turned out of the parking lot and head into town he could not help but smile at himself in the mirror at the sheer brilliance of the way he had played his hand back there with Mrs. Morgan. It could not have gone any better even if he had planned this himself! Oh wait, he had planned this and that was why he was smiling.
On his way to the office he began to think about all the things he had to take care of before he met with the Morgans tomorrow night. It would not be an easy task to convince the Morgans that he was a fly fisherman. Heck he hated fishing! Every type of fishing. As a matter of fact he did no even like eating fish!....Suddenly the sheriff's smile began to fade as he realized what a problem he had created for himself. Luckily, he had actually been fly fishing. He had been going with his father ever since he was old enough to stand on his own in the stream. The sheriff never liked it though. All he ever wanted to do was play and explore and all his father ever wanted him to do was to stand still and be quiet....Needless to say the sheriff grew up hating those outings...But now they were his only hope for this plan to work. He looked at his watch. He had 36 hours to learn everything there was to know about fly fishing. "Shoot" he thought, "In only 48 hours I managed to learn what I needed to get myself invited to the Morgan's home how hard could this be?" he would soon find out!
Sheriff Doe walked in to his office and sat down at his desk. He quickly sorted through a stack of notes that his secretary had left for him from the previous days phone calls. It looked like several more cases of missing dogs had occured and one case of a homeless couple living out of there car being chased off of The Companies property. He would look into the to missing dog call himself on his way home and would turn over the homeless call for a follow up with one of his deputies. With that out of the way he picked up the phone and called his top deputy in to his office.
Deputy Turner....Amy Turner...was his best officer. She had grown up in Dry Springs and had a way with the people. The Sheriff trusted her. When she entered the office the sheriff was already gathering the things he needed from his office and was stuffing them into a duffle bag.
"Are you going somewhere Bob?" asked Deputy Turner.
The sheriff turned to the Deputy "You would not believe me if I told you!" replied the sheriff as he zipped the up duffel bag.
"Try me..." replied the deputy as she stood in the doorway half blocking his exit. The sheriff smiled and said, "Well Amy, I am going fishing for a few days and need you to hold this place together while I am gone." He was almost able to get it all out before the deputy burst out laughing! " You! Fishing! Now I know the world is coming to an end!" and she laughed and laughed until tears filled her eyes! The sheriff stood there and let her laugh her self out before he started to talk aging.
"Amy, this is just between us...I am going fishing...no fooling...but let's just say I am going fishing for a wild goose. If you know what I mean?" With that the deputy took a deep breath and straightened herself up. "Well then sheriff how can I help?"
The sheriff told her that he needed her to just run the office like nothing was going on and to not contact him unless it was a major emergency. Deputy Turner agreed and promised that she would not let him down. Despite the ribbing he knew she would not disappoint him. Now it was up to him to catch a wild goose.
On his way to the house the sheriff stopped by the two homes that had called in about the missing pets. Again both were dogs. The owners both worked for the Company and both owners had backyard kennels which had been broken into and their dogs had been taken. The sheriff filled out the necessary paper worked and reported the information back to Deputy Turner at which point he signed off for the next 48 hours with orders to not be disturbed for any reason. With that behind him he headed home to master fly fishing.
Once home him began to formulate a study plan for learning as much as he could about fly fishing. He spent several hours multitasking on his laptop and his IPod doing article research and using YouTube to bring meaning to what he was reading. It really amazed him that something that he hated so much as a child was now the very key to his plan. If he had only paid attention to his dad during those long winter days when he would sit and try to teach him the art of tying a fly..."tying a fly" he thought..."that's it! Dad's flies....those would hold an evenings conversation for sure!" now he just had to find them.
If the sheriff thought the hours at the computer had been hard and tedious work than sorting through all of the boxes of his father's belongings was nothing short of a nightmare! After his father's death he had all of his Dad's stuff boxed up and moved to his garage. He had not had time to sort through it. With the death of there mother only a year before and now their father the sheriff was left with taking care of his sister who was just starting college and he himself had just started the new job in Dry Springs. Had it really already been 4 years...it did not seem like it could be right... but Emily was in her senior year now...this fishing trip was getting harder by the moment.
The sheriff spent a sleepless night sorting through the boxes and many memories... both good and bad. He realized he had never gotten to know his father as a person. He would need to correct that when he had more time. For know he needed to find his Dad's tackle box. If he remembered right it was an old dark red tool box with an Ale Eight sticker on the front. He lifted a few more boxes of books and slide an old leather recliner out of his way so he could get a look at the set of shelves on the far wall. There it was! On the bottom shelf in the far corner. It would take some climbing but he was sure he could get it with out risking lif or limb. Amazingly the sheriff was able to stretch over two rows of boxes and several of his Mother's breakable figurines and snatch the box from the shelf. With a sense of victory the sheriff left behind the boxed up memories with a promise to return soon to make peace with his father and headed back into the house.
Once inside the sheriff headed for the kitchen table where he planned on studying the contents of the tackle box with the hope of appearing as if each of the lures inside were a close and personal friend. But, as he sat down he realized that it was al ready noon and that he had been up all night researching fly fishing and struggling with family memories. If he had any hope of pulling this off he had to get some food and take a nap before heading to the Morgans for dinner. So the sheriff rose from the table made himself a sandwich and headed to bed. He set his alarm for 3:30 allowing himself plenty of time to get ready and to preview the contents of his father's tackle box.
The sheriff did not sleep easily. It seems the rummaging through the boxes of his father's belongings had stirred up some family memories. Unfortunately for the sheriff his dreams came as screaming from unseen faces hidden by torturous flames. He tried to call back to them to lead them out of the flame but it did not help...the roar of the flames grew louder and the screaming was replaced by laughter...an unrelenting laughter.
The sheriff sat up...shaking and in a cold sweat...where was he? Had it been a dream? The sheriff shook himself awake and realized it had only been a dream. He started to lay back down when he looked at the clock...it was already 4:30! Stupid alarm clock had not gone off. The sheriff jumped out of bed and into the shower. He was going to be late!
The sheriff managed to shower, shave and dress in record time and was out the door by 4:50! He would be cutting it close but he would make it if nothing went wrong. Of course anyone who knows Murphey and his laws knows that the sheriff was not going to be on time...
As the sheriff left his house and tuned out on to main street his radio came to life like all heck was breaking loose in town. The sheriff reached for the mic but instead grabbed the volume and switched it off sure that what ever was going on that Deputy Turner would handle it without him needing to get involved. And so he headed to the Morgan's in silence.
The sheriff had managed to actually pull up to the Mogan's house at 4:59 and was ringing the doorbell at exactly 5:00. As the sheriff stood at the door with his tackle box in hand Dr. Morgan opened the door and was in the middle of welcoming the sheriff to their home when the sheriff's cell phone began to ring. There were only two people that had his personal number. One was his sister and the other was Deputy Turner. Both had been told to only use this number in extreme emergencies. Therefore the sheriff cut off Dr. Morgan and said "I am very sorry...but I have to take this!" Dr. Morgan stared in disbelief never having been cut off while welcoming a guest in to his home. All he could do was stand there and stare.
"This is Robert"
"Slow down deputy.."
"An accident? Where?"
"How many where involved?"
"Where there any injuries?"
"Is she still alive?"
Tthe other one?"
"I see..yes of course...I will be there in fifteen minutes...do not let anyone else in or out..yes, including Mr. Herman himself!"
And with that the sheriff excused himself and took his red tackle box and left Dr. Morgan standing in the open doorway.
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