Country Justice
by R.E. Volver
Copyright (c) 2012
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Van Buren County Hospital was normally quiet at night. For that matter, it was normally quiet all the time. But tonight was different. Four deputies’ vehicles were parked near the emergency room entrance as were two ambulances and a state trooper’s cruiser.
A brown Dodge truck pulled up next to one of the ambulances. The door was kicked open and a two-hundred-twenty pound man with short, gray hair climbed out. His name was Silas Johnson and he had been sheriff in Van Buren County for the last twelve years.
The electric glass doors to the emergency room whisked apart as a young uniformed deputy stepped into the night. “We finally got here, sheriff.”
Silas marched toward the doors, pausing momentarily to tug up his too-tight jeans and to tuck in his flannel shirt. “S’bout time, goddammit,” he said, stepping through the doors. “I can’t believe you boys took this long just for two people. Don’t you realize we got lives at stake here?”
“Correction on that, Silas,” came a female voice from behind a count in the emergency room, “there’s no lives at stake here.”
The sheriff tromped over to the counter. “What’re you talkin’ about, Sheila? Did we lose them?”
The female doctor picked up a stack of papers and handed them to the sheriff. “Annie Folkes is dead,” she said, “but it wasn’t the car accident that killed her.”
Silas glanced down at the medical report, but couldn’t make sense of the complicated forms and all the chicken scratchings on them. “What do you mean, ‘it wasn’t the accident that killed her?’” he asked.
“She had a kitchen knife through her chest,” the doctor said.
Silas put the papers on the counter and ran his thick fingers through his thing hair. “Shit,” he mumbled.
The young deputy stepped up next to the sheriff. “We’ve got the guy down at headquarters already. He was banged up a little, but the doc here said he was okay for questioning.”
“Has anybody asked him anythin’ yet?” Silas asked.
“No, sir, not yet. We were sort of waiting for you to get out of bed and get over there,” the deputy said.
“Good,” Silas said. “At least I don’t have to worry ’bout one of you boys screwin’ up anything.”
The doctor let out a slight grin.
“Sheila,” Silas said, turning back to the doctor, “is there anything else you can tell me right now? Anything I need to know?”
“There hasn’t been an autopsy ordered yet, if that’s what you mean,” she said. “You’ll have to ask the county coroner about that. I’d say there should be one, though. That knife didn’t wind up in that girl’s chest because of the accident.”
“All right, thanks a lot,” Silas said, heading toward the door.