Free Patience County War (Madeleine Toche Series) by Soren Petrek

object after all.
    “When people get sick, what’s wrong with them?” Doc was trying not to suggest too much. He really wanted this to be Virgil’s contribution to the mission.
    “Well, sometimes they get a headache,” Virgil haltingly suggested.
    “What causes these headaches?” Doc was starting to feel like a game show host where the answers were incredibly easy and the host all but told them to the contestant.
    “Bump on the head?” Virgil said with a little more conviction.
    Doc had to bite his tongue. The clod, he thought. I’ll give him a bump on the head. This guy’s like a circus clown on ether.
    “Yeeess….what else?”
    “Maybe they run a temperature.”
    “Ahah”…light at the end of the tunnel. “Hot or…?”
    “Cold?” Virgil guessed.
    “Brilliant! You’ve got it! Cold medicine.”
    To his credit, Virgil shifted to the immediate acknowledgment that it was his idea. People are like damn sheep, Doc thought. And I’m the shepherd. The day was looking up.

 
    S am put his feet up on his office desk hoping for a slow day as his phone rang.
    “Sheriff, this is Martha Ward.”
    Sam punched the speaker function on his phone and answered, “What can I do for you today?” He knew Martha, and aside from the fact she had to whack Virgil on the head from time to time she was fine, and she saved Sam from having to whack Virgil on the head.
    “It’s Virgil. He didn’t come home last night and I’m concerned.”
    “Any frying pan activity, Martha?” This was Sam’s roundabout way of asking, “Did you clonk old nut butter on the head for a stupidity infraction?” Sam often thought the entire criminal code except perhaps for premeditated murder, could be summed up into three crimes: petty stupidity, plain stupidity, and gross-stupidity.
    “Oh, of course not Sheriff.”
    “Just checking, Martha.”
    “Could you have the deputies keep an eye out? I’d appreciate it.”
    “I’ll look into it myself. I’m sure there’s a good explanation, Martha,” Sam said, thinking if there isn’t, Virgil better cook one up or stay away longenough so that she really does miss him. It didn’t sound like a crime wave but Virgil was a homebody and could be laying in a ditch somewhere. Sam walked to the front of the station and called out to Lisa. “Virgil Ward is AWOL. Tell Swanny and Meyer to keep a look out for him too, will you? It’s too soon for a missing person’s report or a Patience County manhunt,” Sam added.
    Lisa waived her response, without looking up from the accounts ledger she was working on.
    Sam walked out the front door and hopped into the squad just in time to see an out of state plate blow through the thirty mile per hour zone at better than sixty. Sam fired up the squad, heads turned, birds flew, animals took cover, and he was off. Sam followed the car until he could get a look at the guy inside: suit, tie, sunglasses, sneer, and he was driving a BMW. That alone was enough of an infraction for Sam. The idiot didn’t even see him in his rear view mirror. Sam reached into his glove box, took out a pair of mirrored sunglasses and put them on. He pulled right up behind the dude and finally got a look back. Sam then pulled up alongside, never looking at the guy or turning on his lights. The driver looked straight ahead with both hands on the wheel, like a good old law abiding Joe. Sam pulled in front of the guy and started the old slow down maneuver. Just when they got down to thirty, Sam sped up and roared down the highway. Finally slowing to subsonic, Sam pulled over, screeched to a halt, and ran over to a smashed dead crow laying in the road. He kicked it into a plastic shopping bag and jumped back into the squad just as the other driver sped past. “The dumb ass,” Sam said out loud as he fired up in pursuit. This time Sam pulled up on the right hand side of the preppy beamer man, made the universal “roll down your window” signal, and slowed them down so that the guy could