and he grinned. “They’re good,” he said. Then the grin faded. “I’m a little worried about Shea, though,” he added, lowering his voice, since the place was doing a brisk trade, as always.
Essie appeared table-side, wielded the coffeepot she carried and took Slade’s order for a pancake special like the ones his friends had.
When she was gone again, bustling off to the kitchen to confer with the fry cook, Boone said, “Shea? She’s a good kid—never gets in any trouble as far as I know.”
Slade sighed, ran a hand through his dark hair in a gesture of suppressed agitation. “She is a good kid,” he agreed. “But she’s normal, too.”
“I don’t follow,” Boone said, still scarfing up pancakes like there was no tomorrow. To look at him, a person would think he hadn’t eaten in a week.
Hutch wondered idly if Shea had gotten herself a boyfriend, thereby rousing her stepfather’s famously protective instincts, but it wasn’t his business either way, so he didn’t ask outright. He just went right on putting away his breakfast and swilling his coffee.
“The Fourth is coming up in a few days,” Slade reminded Boone unnecessarily. “You know how it is. During the fireworks, a few kids always climb the water tower to get a better look. Joslyn overheard Shea saying something about it to a friend on her cell phone.”
Hutch felt a mild twinge at the mere mention of the water tower, but neither Boone nor Slade would have noticed, being intent on their own concerns, and that was fine with him.
“And you think she’s planning to scale the tower with some of her high school pals?” Boone prompted, sounding mildly amused now.
“We’ve both asked her, Joslyn and I, I mean, and she says she wouldn’t do anything that stupid,” Slade said. “But—”
“Climbing the water tower is dangerous,” Boone agreed, making a gruff attempt at reassurance, “but it isn’t illegal, as you know.”
“Couldn’t you station a deputy out there on Saturday night,” Slade pressed, “just to keep an eye on things?”
Boone was clearly regretful as he spread his hands in a gesture meant to convey helplessness. “You ought to know better than anybody, Slade, that I don’t have that kind of manpower. And I need the few deputies I have to keep the celebrating down to a dull roar.
Folks get all riled up after the rodeo and a few spins on the Tilt-a-Whirl over at the carnival, not to mention the beer and the dancing at the Boot Scoot and then the fireworks to top it all off.”
“Damn it, Boone,” Slade argued, just as Essie returned to set his plate down in front of him with a thump, “some kid could fall and break their neck. Whatever happened to ‘serve and protect’?”
“I can’t be everywhere at once,” Boone pointed out reasonably. “Neither can my deputies. The best I can promise is that somebody will drive by the water tower once in a while to make sure everything’s all right.”
Slade seemed to deflate a little. “Then I’ll watch the place myself,” he said. “During the fireworks, anyhow.”
Boone held up his fork, like a teacher about to point to something written on a blackboard. “You’re not sheriff anymore,” he said. “And you’re not a deputy, either. Keep an eye on Shea if you’re concerned and leave it to the other parents to do the same for their own kids. That tower is a menace, I grant you, but kids have been climbing it since right after the turn of the last century and nobody’s ever actually taken a header off it in all those years, now have they?”
“There’s always a first time,” Slade grumbled, but he began to eat his pancakes.
Hutch didn’t bring up the obvious solution—which was to just pull the water tower down, once and for all, and haul off the debris—because better people than he had lobbied for that for a couple of decades now and gotten nowhere. Besides, he wasn’t inclined to remind Slade of that humiliating afternoon when they were kids and he’d gotten stuck up there himself, scared shitless and unable to move until his half brother alternately goaded and cajoled him down.
Now mercifully—at least for Hutch—the conversation took a different turn. Slade asked how long Boone’s boys would be staying with him and Boone said only until Sunday night because they were both attending summer school this year.
“Summer school?” Hutch echoed. “Damn, Boone, that’s harsh. Summers are for goofing off—for swimming and playing baseball and riding horses until all hours,