sat huddled together on the steps of their front porch waiting for the local sheriff to arrive. They each gripped a mug of tea prepared by Lorraine who was now next door keeping an eye on Carrie and Caleb until matters could be resolved. Norman stood next to the seated couple.
“I think this might be him,” Norman said, pointing out in the distance towards a pair of headlights entering Crescent Lake. Seconds later the flashing red and blue left zero doubt.
“It only took him half an hour,” Amy said. Her bitter sarcasm was anything but subtle.
“Not much ever happens around here, Amy,” Norman said. “Heck, it’s just the one sheriff and a couple of deputies patrolling the area. Guess they figure they can take their time.”
Amy had been chatting up a nervous storm the entire time they waited for the sheriff. She fired out questions, each one flowing immediately into the next, giving neither man a chance to answer. This was oddly appropriate; neither man had answers.
Patrick’s behavior on the porch was the opposite of his wife’s. His rage for what Amy had seen in their bedroom window was consuming him and had taken hold of his tongue. He had stormed outside immediately after the incident, keen on a confrontation. After several minutes of fruitless searching, he eventually broke down and phoned the police. And now, having no other option but to sit and wait (while the son of a bitch in the window was being given ample time to get away), he felt as if a sea of bile was burning holes in his stomach.
The sheriff’s car rolled to a stop in front of the cabin. The flashing red and blue continued their show while the sheriff exited the car and began his walk to the cabin.
“You the Lamberts?” he called, still a good ten feet from the couple.
Amy and Patrick set their mugs to one side, stepped down and walked a few feet forward. The porch held two lanterns on either side of the front door, each one powerful enough to cast a decent light onto the sheriff as he came into view. He was in full uniform, right down to the wide-brimmed hat. His pallid skin was heavily wrinkled, eyes dark and narrow. A long, thick gray mustache touched both corners of his chin. His physique was the odd combination of skinny and fat: a sunken chest, pipe cleaner arms, and a belly that bubbled and hung over his belt.
“Yes,” Patrick said as he extended his hand. “I’m Patrick. This is my wife, Amy.”
The sheriff took Patrick’s hand and gave it a half-hearted shake while looking in Norman’s direction. “That you, Norm?” he asked.
Norman nodded and gave a small obligatory smile, discouraging drawn-out pleasantries. Patrick was grateful.
“How’s Lorraine?”
“She’s fine.”
The sheriff nodded then turned his full attention to Patrick and Amy. “So who can tell me what happened here tonight?”
* * *
Amy and Patrick took turns relaying the bizarre events that took place earlier in the day—Patrick when it came to the incidents with Arty, Amy when it came to the man with the shaved head at the supermarket. When the telling of events ultimately arrived at the episode with the man at the window, Amy took over entirely.
“And I glanced up at the window for a few seconds and he was there…staring at me,” she said.
“And you’re sure it was the man you saw earlier in the supermarket?” the sheriff asked.
“Positive,” Amy said.
The sheriff fixed on Patrick. “And you say you ran outside after the guy?”
“That’s right.”
“But you didn’t find anyone.”
“No.”
The sheriff went back to Amy. “And you’re absolutely sure you saw a man in your window?”
Amy looked at the sheriff as though he’d told an offensive joke. “Yes, I’m sure.”
The sheriff showed Amy both palms in a placating manner. “Okay, okay, I’m just suggesting that after the ordeal at the market today, maybe this guy’s face might have been on your mind some. Maybe caused you to see something that wasn’t really there.”
“I just got finished making love to my husband. I can assure you that creep’s face was not on my mind.”
Norman blushed at Amy’s comment, bit back a smile and looked away.
The sheriff’s reaction was similar but different. He too blushed, but there was no smile to fight; he seemed flustered by Amy’s bluntness, avoiding eye contact when he said, “Okay, ma’am, I’m just here trying to put your mind at ease, that’s all.”
“Well you’re accusing me of not seeing something that I know