Silent Night in Dry Creek

“Wade here is Clarence Sutton’s grandson,” the sheriff finally said in the silence.

Jasmine summoned up a polite smile and looked at the man. “You must be staying out with your grandfather then.”

“Not likely.” The man’s eyes flared for a second and then turned cold.

Apparently that scowl ran in the family along with his rather anti-social attitude. No one could accuse the elder Mr. Sutton of being neighborly, either. He lived next door to her father and the men had feuded for years. Still, Jasmine kept the smile on her face.

“He’ll be spending the night at my place,” the sheriff injected smoothly. “I expect he’d like to see some of the countryside while he’s here, though. I figure he might as well drive out and pick you up for dinner. If that’s all right?”

The sheriff smiled again.

“Oh, he doesn’t need to do that.” She wanted to talk to the man about the role of the angel, but she could do that in a few minutes. She didn’t need any more time with him than was necessary, especially since he was so disagreeable. And arrogant. A man like him would probably think he was on a date with her if he drove her anywhere.

“You can’t be riding that motorcycle at night,” the sheriff continued. “I’d have to ticket you for not having your backlights working and Barbara would be upset with me. It could ruin the whole dinner. Besides, it might rain. Riding with Wade will at least keep you dry.”

Everyone was quiet again.

“I might be able to borrow Edith’s car,” Jasmine finally said. Ever since Edith had gotten married for the second time, she didn’t drive her old car very much. Sometimes the car wouldn’t start right away, but Jasmine could get out and push it until it did if she had to.

“I can drive you,” Wade said, and then added, “It’d be my pleasure.”

He didn’t sound like it would be his pleasure and that made Jasmine feel better. It definitely wouldn’t be a date if neither one of them wanted it to be. And it was a cold night to be pushing a car. Maybe the test God was sending her was to see if she had the sense to stay out of the rain.

“I guess it’d be okay,” she agreed.

At least the man didn’t have bad breath or anything. And he nodded like he was a sensible person when he wasn’t scowling. He might not want to tell her how he’d managed to give such a spectacular performance in the pageant, but if he sat next to her long enough, he might say something about it out of sheer boredom since she didn’t plan to put any effort into making conversation with him.

The sheriff beamed at her. “I’m glad you stopped by. It reminds me that I need to invite Edith and Charley, too. Barbara wanted to have the two of you and another couple to balance out her table. Some notion she got watching Martha Stewart on television.”

“Oh.” Jasmine set her coffee cup down on the table. If the sheriff’s wife was watching good old Martha, Jasmine needed to find a hostess gift before she went. She was sadly lacking in homemaking skills, but gift-giving was something important in prison, too, so she’d learned the value of that. “Well, I’ll see you later, then.”

Wade watched the woman flee from the café before he turned back to his friend. “Are you happy now? You’ve pretty much scared her away, making her think she’s agreed to be a couple with me.”

“Oh, she’d never think that. The women have her paired up with Conrad.”

“Conrad?” Wade frowned.

“Nelson,” the sheriff added. “Edith’s his aunt now that she married Charley.”

Wade remembered a kid by that name. He came to town during the summers to visit the Nelsons. Wade didn’t think much of a man who relied on his aunt for matchmaking. “He doesn’t seem like much of a go-getter in the romance department.”

The sheriff snorted. “You should talk. I don’t see a wedding ring on your finger.”

Wade glared at his friend.

“Besides, I’m helping you set up your cover,” the sheriff continued like he hadn’t noticed Wade’s look. “Lonely grandson comes home to be with his grandfather for the holidays. I can hear the Christmas bells ringing already.”

“I don’t need a cover.” Wade gritted his teeth. “There’s no reason to follow that woman around. I’m going home tomorrow.”

Wade felt hollow the second he said the last. Who was he kidding? He never really thought of his apartment in Idaho Falls as home. His furniture was rented and all that the refrigerator ever held were takeout cartons and a few bottles of soft drinks and water. Half of the time he didn’t even get his mail before someone made off with it, not that he had much to steal except pizza flyers and catalogs. All of which had been fine with him until he spent a few hours in Dry Creek again. Now he felt an old stirring, telling him there should be more to a man’s life than what he had.

“I don’t know,” the sheriff said thoughtfully, and for the first time Wade saw real concern on his friend’s face. “If she hadn’t gotten that postcard last week, I wouldn’t be worried.”

Wade waited for more, but nothing came.

“Nobody dies from a postcard,” he finally said.

The sheriff looked at Wade for a minute. “You remember Lonnie Denton? Shot a gas station attendant in Missoula twelve years ago?”

Wade nodded. “Almost killed the kid behind the counter. All for sixty-two dollars and change. I know a couple of the officers that finally picked him up.”

“Well, Denton was Jasmine’s boyfriend.”

Wade whistled. He hadn’t seen that coming.

“It was the only job she pulled with him and she called the ambulance that saved the kid’s life,” the sheriff continued. “She still got ten years prison time, though. Just got out a year or so ago.”

That explained the walk, Wade thought. A woman had to be tough in prison.

“The postcard she got was from Denton.”

Suddenly, the sheriff had all of Wade’s attention. “I’m surprised they’d let him write to her—since they were in it together.”

“He used a fake name for her. But he sent it to Dry Creek and she knew it was hers. She picked it up out of the general delivery mail on the hardware store counter. She showed it to me right away. Told me she didn’t want me to think she was hiding anything. Said she’d sent him a pamphlet about the glories of heaven and this is what she got in return. I could see she was shaken, too. He said he’d see her soon.”

Wade was quiet for a minute. He didn’t like the thought of Jasmine worrying about the soul of a man like that. Not that he was overjoyed about the boyfriend angle, either. “I don’t suppose Lonnie is up for parole or anything?”

The sheriff shook his head. “I found out where he was doing his time and called a guy I know who works at the prison, the one west of Phoenix. He said Lonnie had a seven-year stretch to go.”

“I guess some people might say soon and mean seven years,” Wade said.

“Maybe.”

Wade had been an investigator for a long time. Partners in crime often stayed together. Something told him the woman was too perfect. She was trying too hard. And she was clearly nervous around him. All of that chatter about his part in that old pageant was probably just an attempt to distract him from her past. “How well do you know this Jasmine? Did you ever think maybe she and Lonnie are getting ready to pull another job and that’s why he wrote to her? Maybe she’s here to make plans.”

“Jasmine served her time.” The sheriff’s tone was final.

“She wouldn’t be the first one to be sent back to prison. Some folks find it hard to make it on the outside. Even getting a job can be a challenge.” Wade stopped. “She does have a job, doesn’t she?”

“She sure does. She works for Conrad in that mechanic shop of his. It’s only part-time for now, but she’s also keeping house for Elmer so she keeps busy.”

“Isn’t that convenient? Her working for her father and the man she’s planning to marry—”

“Oh, she hasn’t even gone out on a date with Conrad,” the sheriff said. “And, whatever you do, don’t tell the women I said they’re thinking in that direction. My wife probably shouldn’t have even told me. They don’t want to scare her off.”

Wade wondered what the women in this town thought it would take to scare a thief away from the full cashbox of a local business that was doing well enough to actually have employees. This Conrad fellow might not know it, but he was a target. Dry Creek wasn’t Wade’s town anymore, but he hated to see innocent folks being set up for robbery. He looked around. “I don’t see a cash register here. I suppose the waitresses keep the money in the back?”

The sheriff narrowed his eyes. “I hope you’re not accusing Jasmine of something.”