Belle held her glare. “Should you?” she challenged. “Should you even be wondering if you’re knocked up or not? After your husband had his tubes snipped?”

The sheriff’s mouth fell open. She commanded herself to pause, to breathe, to evaluate—but instead she blurted, “What the hell! Mom! Harley hasn’t had a vasectomy!”

Belle huffed and stared toward the highway. She did that thing with her bikini string again.

“Not one that you know about.”

“What? What?”

“Don’t play dumb.”

“Mom!”

“Don’t ‘Mom’ me. Your husband is my child. My little boy. And I heard from a good source about your fun and games with that Spanish deputy, that Speedy Morales fella. That’s why he left. That’s what I heard.”

The sheriff turned a hissing circle, actually stamping her feet. Morales left because they had an affair? That’s what people were saying? Supposedly Harley was snipped—some barfly’s bullshit fantasy. The boys watched with stricken faces.

“Who is your ‘good source’? One of your alcoholic friends? And you believed it? Who?” Her temples pounded. In a matter of seconds, her entire uniform, cuffs to collar, had become sweat-pasted to her skin. “Tell me who!” The boys stared from the van, Taylor in a deep scowl. “Who would start that? Why?”

“Call me old-fashioned,” Belle answered her grimly, “but I also always felt that one man was enough.”

“Mom, no!”

Belle put her wrinkled hand up in a stop sign, something she must have seen on TV.

“I can’t imagine where you even find the time.”

“Mom!”

“We all love our boys.”

Harley’s mother started toward the van, working the keys from the pocket of her cutoffs. She looked back.

“We all love our boys,” she rasped again, “so trust me on this, Miss Piss-in-a-Jar. I’ve got only one left. You hurt my last boy with your tramping around, then I guarantee that around here ‘Ex-Sheriff’ is the nicest name anyone will ever call you.”

Part 3: 106°–95°

Thurs, Aug 8, 5:33 PM

To: Dairy Queen ([email protected])

From: Oppo ([email protected])

Subject: Suicide vs. Pesticide

Problems with the Story:

1) Politics. At the time of Kim Maybee’s “suicide” our elected coroner was a pharmacist, McKee; following year, McKee lost his license for over-prescribing opiates;

2) Investigators. Generous term for Sheriff Gibbs and Chief Deputy Elvin Lund, aka “two monkeys f^cking a football”;

3) Irregularity. EMS response was compromised when an EMT trainee showed up and talked his way into riding transport with KM, his “old friend.” This EMT was your opposition, Barry Rickreiner, just re-married and in the final semester of his Criminal Justice degree;

4) Prickreiner. Nothing “old friend” about KM and BR. KM was f^cking BR in exchange for oxy (see 1 above, McKee) during BR’s engagement, after his marriage, and up until KM died. Repeat: KM was pregnant at time of death.