Authors: Gilbert Morris
The Black Diamond was a wooden-framed structure denuded of all paint except long strips that hung destitute in the rays of the evening sun. Dilapidated cars and two wagons decorated the parking lot, and as they got out, Billy said, “This is going to be pretty rough. Let me handle any rough stuff. You can do the talking, though, Sheriff.”
The two walked in through the door, and by the dim light of the naked bulbs hanging from wires overhead, Jenny took in the scene. It was a large room with two doors that led to other parts of the building, perhaps bathrooms and dwelling quarters. Along one wall was a bar and behind it a cracked mirror. The walls were covered with pictures of bathing beauties, and there were almost a dozen men in the room and two or three women. One man was lying on the floor, his face bloody; another was sitting in a chair, his head back, apparently only half conscious. His features were battered, and he nursed one arm as if it were broken.
“What’s goin’ on, Tal?”
Tal Holbert, the owner of the Black Diamond, shrugged his beefy shoulders. “Nothin’ much, Billy. Just a little brawl.” He appeared nervous, and he turned to look at three big men
all wearing overalls and whose faces were scarred with signs of battle.
Billy Moon said, “Sheriff, this is Bart Cundiff. These are his boys Perry and Ace. Fellas, this is Sheriff Winslow.” Jenny recognized the men as the squatters who had been living in their house when they had first arrived in Georgia. They were crude, filthy people, and only the threat of Clint’s shotgun had persuaded them to leave. Swearing and grumbling, they had left, leaving a reeking mess behind them. Jenny remembered the Cundiffs only too well, but they didn’t seem to remember her, at least not at the moment.
The three men were obviously drunk, and they all looked dangerous. Jenny had absolutely no idea what to do, but she stepped forward and said, “You three will have to come with us. You’re under arrest. We’ll take these other two to the doctor.”
“I ain’t bein’ arrested by no woman,” Bart Cundiff said. He was a hulking man with green eyes and unkempt hair, and his sons bore him a strong resemblance.
Moon stepped up beside her and removed his nightstick from his belt. He tapped it into his palm, saying, “You’re going in one way or another, Bart. Easy or hard. Your choice.”
Jenny knew a cold touch of fear as Cundiff’s wild eyes stared at her, but she determined to show nothing. “Come along,” she said. She walked up and took Cundiff by the arm, intending to lead him from the room. She never saw the blow he threw at her. All she knew was that something struck her in the side of the face, and she remembered falling, but she did not feel the floor when she struck it.
Consciousness came back, and she found herself sitting in a chair. Moon was kneeling beside her with a damp cloth in his hand. “Take it easy now, Jenny. You’re gonna be all right.”
A terrible pain struck Jenny, and she reached up and touched her eye.
“You’re gonna have a wicked shiner there, boss.”
Memory came flooding back, and she looked at Billy’s
bronzed face and then shifted to see that the room was empty now, except for the three Cundiffs. They were all wearing cuffs, and Bart Cundiff was bleeding over one eyebrow. Then she turned back to Billy and saw that his lip was swollen, and he had a bruise on his left cheek. She whispered, “Thank you, Billy.”
He leaned forward and whispered, “Be tough, boss. Tell ’em they’re goin’ where the sun won’t shine on ’em.”
Jenny got up and, ignoring the pain, said, “You three are goin’ where the sun won’t shine on you! Now, get out in that car!” She pulled the nightstick from her belt and stepped forward, and Ace Cundiff flinched as she lifted it. “All right—all right, we’re goin’! You don’t hafta hit me again!”
The three were herded out and crammed into the backseat. “You drive, Sheriff, and I’ll keep an eye on these bad characters.”
Jenny drove back to the jail, where the three were booked and put in cells, all three protesting loudly.
“They’ll pay their fines and get out tomorrow. We really don’t have anything on ’em, Sheriff,” Moon said. “Did me good to bust their heads a little bit, though.” He leaned forward and examined her. “You’d better get somethin’ cold on that or you’re gonna have a whale of a shiner. Gonna be all kinds of people askin’ you what happened. Tell them you busted all three of the Cundiffs. It’ll make you into a hero!”
****
When Jenny eased out of bed the next morning, she still had a headache. She went to the mirror and saw that the bruise was a glorious mixture of black and purple and green and yellow.
I didn’t know skin could turn so many colors,
she thought. She considered putting a bandage over the eye, which was half shut, but stubbornly determined she would wear it like a badge of honor. When she went downstairs, Kat took one look at Jenny’s face and said, “You look awful, Jenny.”
Jenny tried to smile. “I think it looks worse than it really is.”
“Well, you sure do
look
awful,” Kat repeated.
“We’re not going to talk about that at the table,” Lewis said quickly.
“Why not?” Kat protested. “You’re always saying the family needs to talk things over. Well, that’s what I’m trying to do.”
Jenny said quickly, “It was part of my job. Billy Moon and I got involved with some men who had been drinking.”
Kat, in her usual straightforward manner, demanded the rest of the story, and Jenny told it.
“Did you shoot any of ’em?” Kat asked, grinning.
“No.”
“I should have been there,” Clint said, shaking his head remorsefully.
“Billy took care of them pretty well.”
“Moon’s a tough fellow and a good guy,” Clint said.
“Did Billy shoot ’em?” Kat asked.
“No, he didn’t,” Lewis spoke up loudly, “and that’s enough talk about that.”
Lewis said little after that, but when he walked Jenny out to the car, he put his arm around her. “I’m worried about you. This job is dangerous.”
“Not as long as I have Billy with me. Don’t worry, Dad. I’ll be all right.”
She got into the car and drove down to the jail, and as soon as she went in, she found Billy and Ruby talking together. Moon said, “Well, the Cundiffs are out already.”
“How’d they get out so quick?”
“Max Conroy came by and paid their fines. He claims they’re workin’ for him on the road crew.”
“It’ll be the first honest work they ever did,” Ruby said. “That’s an awful-lookin’ eye you got there. Why don’t you take the day off?”
“No, I don’t . . .” She turned and fell silent as Judge
Hightower came in. He walked over to her and nodded pleasantly. “Good morning, Sheriff. How are you, Billy and Ruby?”
They all responded to the judge, and finally he said, “I heard about the fight. Good thing you were there, Billy.”
“Yes, it was,” Jenny said shortly. She knew the judge had implied that she would not have been able to handle the Cundiffs on her own, and worse than that, she knew he was right.
“Come back to my office, Judge.”
She led the judge back to the tiny cubicle, no more than ten feet square, with room enough only for a desk and a filing cabinet and two chairs. The judge sat down and said, “I came by to talk to you about Harold Porter and Mattie. They’re distant relatives of mine, you know.”
“So I understand, Judge.”
“They’re not top-drawer material, but I’m going to have a talk with them and see that they do their work better.”
“That won’t be necessary, Judge.”
Hightower lifted his eyebrows. “Oh, you’ve already talked to them?”
“I’m firing them.”
Surprising Judge Dwight Hightower was not an easy thing to do, but Jenny saw that she had succeeded. A slight shock registered in his eyes, but he covered it quickly and regarded her intently. He was a handsome man filled with determination and had a reputation for being absolutely ruthless when it came to getting his own way.
“I’m sorry to hear that, Sheriff. I think you’re making a mistake.”
“Would you care to have lunch with us today? You’d get to sample some of their cooking.”
“You won’t reconsider?”
“No, I won’t,” Jenny said firmly. “They’re a drain on the taxpayer, and I’ve already decided on the new jailer.”
“And who might that be?”
“Noah Valentine.”
Once again Jenny saw with pleasure that she had shaken the judge. “Well, you may have a little problem there.”
“I don’t think so, Judge. He’s a good man, a fine cook, and he knows how to clean a place.”
For a moment it seemed as though Hightower would allow anger to get the best of him, and Jenny hoped that he would. His face grew flushed, and his lips grew tight, and she saw the anger dancing in his eyes. She was disappointed when he looked down for a moment and then looked up and smiled pleasantly. “Well, you’re the sheriff. It’s your decision.” He rose and started for the door. When he reached it, he turned and said, “Oh, by the way. We’re having a commissioners’ meeting tonight. I’m afraid it’s going to be necessary to cut your budget a little.”
“Unless I keep the Porters on?”
“Why, there’s no connection.” Hightower smiled pleasantly. “You and I ought to get along together, Sheriff. We don’t need dissension in county government. Think about it.” He turned and left, and Jenny felt a tinge of cold anger such as she had rarely felt. She knew there was evil in this man, and she knew that he was going to do everything in his power to hurt her. But she refused to give in to his threats.
The sun was setting by the time Jenny reached her favorite spot in the woods near the secluded bend of the river. She was hot and sweaty, and the thought of a swim seemed enticing. Without stopping to consider it, she took the trail that led deep into the timber. The road was an old logging road, but since the country had been logged out, the weeds had grown up again. When she pulled up within fifteen feet of the shallow part of the river that formed an excellent swimming hole, she shut the engine off and sat for a moment, just enjoying the silence. Getting out of the car then, she reached into the backseat and pulled out the paper bag. She had promised Kat to take her swimming the previous day but had not been able to do it because of the affair with the Cundiffs. Now she fished out her swimming suit, changed
quickly, and simply draped her clothes over the hood of the car. She followed the small, narrow path to the river’s edge. The river had a sandy bottom at this point, and she waded out, then settled down. The water was deliciously cool, and she put her head under and swam strongly out away from the shore. The river’s bend formed a small bay, and for a time she simply floated, enjoying the silence as the sun went down. The moon was becoming visible, and she stared up at the silver orb, thinking about the day and mostly about the threat of Judge Dwight Hightower.
She was suddenly alarmed when she heard the sound of a car. It was coming close, and fear ran through her. Her first thought, as irrational as it was, was of the Cundiffs or someone like them. Quickly, with strong strokes, she swam toward the bank. As she waded out of the water, car lights came on and she moved quickly toward the unfamiliar vehicle, not knowing who she might find.
As Jenny emerged from the path into the open spot, she was blinded by a flashing light. A voice cried out, “That was a great shot, Sheriff! Be sure you get a copy of
The Daily Standard.
You’ll be on the front page tomorrow.”
Jenny was almost totally blinded by what she knew was a flashbulb. Several more flashes went off, and there was the sound of raucous male laughter and crude remarks. Then she heard another car start up and recognized it as her squad car. She had time only to see the dust rise as the squad car pulled away. She cried out futilely, “Come back!” but both cars were gone. She heard them as they reached the highway and turned and then the sound faded.
Standing there in the darkness, Jennifer Winslow had never felt so vulnerable. She looked around, hoping her clothes were left, but the vandals had taken them too. Her mind began to function, and she thought,
They followed me from town. I don’t know what for, but they got pictures of me—and they stole the car. It’ll be all over the county tomorrow.
The moon shone down on Jenny, and she suddenly felt
tears well up in her eyes. She wanted to cry and wail out loud, but fiercely she rubbed the heels of her hands into her eyes and then settled down. “They won’t beat me! I won’t let them!” She lifted her head, pressed the water out of her hair, and started walking. It was in her mind to walk all the way home, a distance of five miles at least, but as she reached the highway she saw lights on the other side and realized it was Clay Varek’s house. Humiliation filled her, but she knew she had to have help. The highway was empty, no cars were coming, so she walked down the side road.
When she got near to the house, she stood in the shadows of the yard and called out, “Clay! Clay Varek!”
Almost at once Clay opened the front door. She could make him out in the bright moonlight, pistol in hand. “Who’s there?”
“It’s me, Jenny Winslow.”
He stepped out onto the front porch and started down the stairs toward her. Jenny said, “I need help, Clay. Can you get me a blanket, please?”
Clay Varek stopped, stared at her, then said, “Come on in.” He turned back toward the house and entered ahead of her, and by the time she reached the door he was there with a blanket. She wrapped it around herself, and he said, “Come on in. Jamie’s asleep.”
He led her into the kitchen, pulled out a chair for her, and poured her a cup of coffee. He did not ask a single question until he brought the coffee and said, “You want sugar?”
“No, just black is fine.” Her hands were unsteady, and she could not conceal it. Then she looked up, the misery clearly written on her face. “I stopped for a swim, Clay. It was so hot, and while I was there a car drove up. When I got out of the water, someone took pictures of me. A man called out to me that they’d be in
The Daily Standard.
” Jenny recognized the name of the competing newspaper from a nearby township.
“Did you recognize their voices?”