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Authors: Donna Cain

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BOOK: Meadowview Acres
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Sheriff Buchanon had been looking at the kids as he spoke to Deputy Clay and had noticed Eli holding onto what looked like a shiny silver box.

“Oh, Hunter says they had that with ‘em when they came out. Probably somethin’ to do with all those experiments they do. I’ll go get their statements and have Rach call their folks.” Deputy Clay wiped the sweat from his forehead and headed toward the kids.

Sheriff Buchanon spoke quickly with the paramedics and got basically the same story as he had from Deputy Clay. Most likely a hemorrhage of the brain, couldn’t tell more until the autopsy. No foul play from what they could see. Sheriff sent them to wait in the ambulance while he looked over the scene.

The corndogs were really churning as he made his way over to the bulldozer and climbed up the side to the driver’s door. When he looked inside, the pain in his head was almost unbearable. He had started to see little flashes of blue light…

BOOK TWO

CHAPTER 12

Sheriff Buchanon

T
he florescent lights in the hospital corridor were hurting Sheriff Buchanon’s eyes. The searing headache he had experienced at the construction site had vanished as quickly as it had come on, just after Deputy Clay left to take the kids home. It had left a remnant, however, and the lights were trying to coax it back.

He passed by the information desk and nodded to Adele, who worked the evening shift. Unfortunately, he was quite familiar with the way to the morgue. This time it was personal, though. Claymont Jackson was a good man. He was a kind person who always had a smile ready. He was well respected and liked within the whole community of Hallston. He was a hard worker and a good family man. His wife loved him, so did his son.

That had been tough. The sheriff had filled out all of his paperwork back at the scene and waited for the paramedics to remove Mr. Jackson from the bulldozer. After the ambulance left with Claymont, Sheriff Buchanon had gone straight to the high school. The game was almost over, so he waited by the ticket booth for Agnes to come through. He knew Darren would be awhile, meeting with the recruiters there and changing into his street clothes, but Agnes had come out quickly with Shasta Port by her side.

They both froze as they saw him. Although she was hoping to find her husband with the recruiters or in the parking lot, Agnes had known something was up when Claymont never showed up in the bleachers and didn’t answer his phone.

“Evening, Ladies,” he started. “I wonder if I could have a word with you Agnes.” Leading up to it was the hardest part for the sheriff.

“Oh Dear God, it’s Claymont! I know it is! I’ve been calling his cell phone, and I knew he would never miss this game! Something’s happened!” She was immediately in tears as Shasta held her arm in case she collapsed. “What’s happened, Sheriff? Where is he?”

They were still fairly close to the exit and people were starting to notice Agnes. He put his arm lightly on her back and led her a little way over to a more private area. It didn’t matter, though. By then she was almost hysterical.

“You tell me right now, Don! You tell me where my husband is! I swear, Don, I swear! You tell me right now, where’s my Claymont?” She was looking at him through dark brown eyes swimming in tears. Shasta was trying to blink back tears; her eyes were wide as well.

“Agnes, Honey, he’s gone. There was an accident at the...”

“NO, NO, NO!” She collapsed pulling Shasta with her to the ground. The two women just sat on the blacktop holding each other as he tried to finish telling them the rest of what had become of Claymont.

“Now, Agnes, listen Hon. He’s at peace. It was a brain hemorrhage they think. It happened real quick. He didn’t have any pain at all, Honey. It was over fast, Agnes.” He looked at the teen holding onto Agnes and thought of his friend Bill. “Shasta, are you okay?” He made a mental note to call Shasta’s dad soon.

“Y, yeah, I think,” Shasta managed, but she was chalk white, and the sheriff knew she was thinking about how Darren was going to take the news. The two kids had been friends since they were little.

“If you’re up for it, I think Darren could use a friend when he hears about this. Can you stick around?”

“Oh, Darren!” Agnes exclaimed. “He’s going to be devastated. Shasta, you have to stay. Please stay and help him. He’s going to really need you now, Sweetie.”

The thought of her child seemed to give Agnes the strength to stand up and dust herself off. The shock was settling in, and her maternal instincts were now in control.

“Now listen, you two,” she said. “That boy has had a big night. He’s going to come out of that stadium on cloud nine and this news is going to crush him. We’ve got to stay strong,” she said, her voice wavering, “for Darren.”

“I’ll tell him, Agnes,” Sheriff Buchanon said while placing his hand on her shoulder. “It might come easier for him that way. You two can get in the back of the squad car, and I’ll put Darren in front with me. That way, no one will overhear.” He was looking around at the curious stares and could tell that there was already a murmur going around.

“Let’s get you two in now to avoid any prying eyes.” He led them over to his car and helped them gently in. Agnes was quietly crying, but he was watching Shasta. The shocked look she wore worried him more than Agnes’ weeping. “Shasta, want me to call your dad and tell him what’s going on? I think I’ll have a few more minutes before Darren comes out.”

“No thanks,” she answered. “He’ll hear soon enough. I’ll call him after we see if Darren’s okay.” Clearly, her only thoughts right now were on her friend. Sheriff Buchanon was glad she was there, but hoped it wouldn’t be too hard on the girl.

Agnes, dreading her only child’s heart about to break, was moaning in the back seat. Her heart was broken as well, but Darren was her focus now.

A few of the football players were starting to come through the exit, so the sheriff told the women to stay in the car as he climbed out of the cruiser to wait. The boys were all on that endorphin high that comes after a big win. They were coming through the exit to cheers and applause by the waiting spectators and families. Sheriff saw the top of Darren’s head, and his stomach rolled over.

The boy was scanning the crowd. He was looking for his parents – looking for Claymont. Sheriff Buchanon raised his arm and tried to grab Darren’s attention. Finally, Darren looked his way, and the sheriff motioned him over. He could see the boys smile fade and an anxious look come over his face. Sheriff Buchanon walked forward to meet him and immediately took his arm.

“Hey, Bud. I’ve got your mom with me. She’s okay, but we need to have a talk, okay? Let’s get in my car.”

He led Darren over to the passenger side and opened the door for him. Darren looked inside at his mother’s face and then at Shasta. Looking back at the sheriff he asked, “Where’s Dad? Is it my Dad, Sheriff?”

“I’m afraid so, Darren. Hop in the car, Son.”

As Darren lowered himself into the cruiser, Sheriff Buchanon rushed to the other side and hopped into the driver’s seat. When he was all the way in, with the door shut behind him, he looked at the boy. Darren’s head was bowed and a look of grief was on his face before the sheriff could confirm his suspicions. He didn’t cry; he just sat there as Sheriff Buchanon relayed the information. Agnes and Shasta listened quietly, since they hadn’t had a chance to hear all of the details yet. When he was finished, Sheriff Buchanon put a strong hand on Darren’s shoulder and said, “I want you to know something, Son. Your dad was a fine man. He was an upstanding, intelligent man of fine character. I respected him, Darren. The whole town did. You should be proud of him. I know for a fact he was damn proud of you.”

Tears rolled down Darren’s cheeks, and Don Buchanon pulled the boy into a tight embrace. “You get it out, Son. It’s okay. It will all be okay. It’s going to hurt a while. But you’ll get through it, you and your mom. You’ll get through.”

The sheriff could hear soft crying from the back seat and decided to get them home. He released Darren and patted his shoulder. “I’m going to drive you all home now. Don’t worry about your cars. I’ll have Rachel dispatch some deputies over to get them to you. Just leave me your keys and we’ll take care of the rest. Shasta, I’ll let your dad know what’s going on. If you need us to do anything, anything at all, you don’t hesitate. Okay, Agnes, Darren, I mean it.”

He saw the nods from the rear view mirror and the seat beside him and started the cruiser. They drove in silence the five miles back to Meadowview Acres. Sheriff Buchanon felt sick to his stomach. He didn’t know why this had to happen to such a nice family. It just didn’t seem fair.

When they got to the front of the Jackson’s home, he helped Agnes out of the backseat and walked her up to the front door. He saw Shasta holding onto Darren and felt good enough about the situation to leave. He told Agnes he would be in touch the next day with the autopsy results and headed back to his car.

He called Bill Port on the way to the hospital and gave him a rundown of the events. Bill was as upset about the loss of Claymont as Don was but also concerned for Shasta. Don told him that she seemed fine, just sad. She was doing Darren some good by being there – Agnes too. Bill said that he would pick her truck up from the high school and give her a call after a little time had passed.

Walking to the morgue while being assaulted by the glare of the florescent bulbs, Don Buchanon was counting his blessings. He was thankful for his wife and his kids. He was thankful for his friends and neighbors. He made a mental note to make a doctor’s appointment and get checked out. It’d been too long since his last checkup.

Deputy Clay was already sitting in the waiting room when he reached the morgue. “Hey, Mike. What’s the word?”

The deputy looked exhausted. His eyes were glazed over and his whole body seemed to droop. He looked at Sheriff Buchanon with blood-shot eyes and said, “Hi, Sheriff. The ambulance just brought him in about an hour ago. Doc says he’ll do the autopsy in the mornin’. Said there’s a lot of blood loss, though. More than usual with a brain hemorrhage. Said he’ll be done around noon tomorrow, and he’ll give ya a call then.”

“That’s fine, Mike. I got the Jackson family home. It’s going to be rough for them for a while. For the whole town, I’d imagine. Claymont was a popular guy.”

“Yep, this one’s tough alright,” Deputy Clay responded. “Listen, I’m not feeling too good. I think we’ve got all the information the Doc’s going to give us tonight. You mind if I go on home?”

“No, go on. You look like hell, Mike. You okay?” Alarm bells were sounding in Sheriff Buchanon’s head. He’d had enough for one night.

“I’ll be alright, just got a wicked headache. I thought I was going to faint while I’s drivin’ those kids home. Even had a nose bleed and started seein’ spots and such. I was a lot better driving over here, though. Soon’s they got outta my cruiser, I started feelin’ better. I’m just goin’ home and get some sleep. I’ll see ya tomorrow at the station.”

“That’s fine, Michael. You feel better now,” he said as he watched his deputy shuffle down the florescent hallway. He looked small in the light.

Sheriff Buchanon felt unsettled about something but couldn’t quite place what. Something Deputy Clay had said sounded familiar. It had been a long night. He knew tomorrow would be longer still, so he decided to go home. All of the sudden he needed to see Margy, Jeff and Jennifer.

The nagging feeling stayed with him all the way home. Pulling into his driveway, a thought occurred to him. He had experienced terrible head pain at the construction site. He remembered seeing flashing lights and feeling like his head was going to split open. Deputy Clay had said that he, too, had a headache at the site. He mentioned seeing spots. Claymont Jackson was at the site and died of what surely was a brain hemorrhage. Or was it? Was there more to this than a medical condition? Then he remembered how sick the kids had been. Hunter couldn’t stop dry heaving, and Bug was all sweaty and weak. Eli had said he had a headache, too. Was there a connection?

Walking into his house that night, Sheriff Buchanon couldn’t help but worry. What had happened to Claymont Jackson? Was the same thing going to happen to Deputy Clay – to Eli – to him?

BOOK: Meadowview Acres
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