A Crying Shame (16 page)

Ray Wagner's patrol car was screaming up the road. Mike watched it pull into the drive.
Where are those journals, Ms. Breaux?”

In the house. In the office safe.”

I'd like to see them, if you don't mind.”

Of course.” She smiled.
I'll certainly open the safe. But they are written in French.”

Mike returned the smile.
I think I can handle it, ma'am.”

 

Les Blackwell, owner and editor of the
Fountain Ledger,
paced up and down the side of the blacktop road, growing more irritated with each step, each passing second. Les was not representative of all reporters—just about twenty-five percent of them. He was a total asshole, believing that his press credentials gave him an inalienable right to be rude, obnoxious, and arrogant.

You can't suppress the news, Deputy,” he said, his voice both demanding and commanding.

The young deputy didn't blink.
I'm not, Mr. Blackwell. I'm just following orders, that's all.”

I
demand
to speak with Sheriff Saucier!”

I gave him your message, sir.”

Well?”

Well, what?”

Where the hell is he?”