Free The Crossing by Gerald W. Darnell Page B

wrong person.   Maybe I’ll wake up tomorrow and this whole thing has all gone away – maybe, but I doubt it.”
    “Somebody needs to get all these demonstrators out of town,” Joe added.
    “Good luck!” Leroy said, and then turned to me. “Carson, what are your plans?”
    “I still have a lot of bases to cover,” I answered frankly. “I need to talk with Yarnell and I plan on talking to the girl’s parents, her husband, to her employer, to the officer who claimed to have seen Henry in the area and several other leads.   Leroy, I haven’t even gotten started yet!”
    Leroy had been looking out the window and he quickly whirled around on his barstool and pointed toward the door. “Well, here comes your first interview. Tammy Blurton’s father, Thomas Whitmore is coming in the door!”
    I turned to see a large man walk into Bea’s Place and he seemed to be in a hurry. He was wearing jeans, a knit shirt and a white apron.   The apron was soiled, showing that he had been wearing it while handling produce or perhaps sacking groceries.   This man was on a mission, and not a happy one.   He headed straight for Leroy and where we were sitting.
    “Damn it, sheriff! Why aren’t you out doing something about all these ‘high class niggers’ we’ve got in town?   They’re only here to start trouble and make sure that ‘no good bastard’, Henry Walker, don’t pay for killing my little girl!” he shouted.
    “Calm down, Thomas,” Leroy ordered looking at Thomas Whitmore.
    “Calm down?   Calm down?   I work over there at Faulkner’s Grocery, just across the tracks, and I have watched your car sit here for the past hour.   You’re in here drinking beer, and those bastards are walking up and down the streets of Humboldt carrying signs that say ‘FREE HENRY WALKER’, while singing church songs!   What are you going to do about it?” He was still yelling.
    “What I’m going to do is lock your ass up in my jail with Henry!” Leroy said as he stood up. “Now, you need to go back to work, and let us handle what goes on in this town.   Am I being clear?”
    Thomas Whitmore seemed to calm down, a little, and then he looked at Joe and me. “Who are these bastards?” he asked.
    I stood up. “These ‘bastards’ are on your side, and we’re all trying to help!   Nice to meet you, Mr. Whitmore, my name is Carson Reno, and I’ll be by to talk with you later, if that is okay?” I said nicely.
    He took a step backwards and changed his tone. “Okay yes, yes, it’s okay,” he stuttered. “I work at Faulkner’s Grocery during the day, or you can come by the house in the evenings.   I live on 17 th and I’m sure Sheriff Epsee can show you how to get there.”
    “Thank you, Mr. Whitmore,” I responded. “I’ll try to make it a convenient time for you.”
    Thomas Whitmore seemed bewildered and not sure what to say next.   So, he said nothing as he turned and walked slowly out of Bea’s Place.
    “Kill them with kindness,” Leroy laughed. “You’re good Carson, real good!”
    “Damn, Leroy,” I replied. “This guy is just the tip of an iceberg.   We need to fix this situation before it escalates!”
    “I agree, Mr. Carson Reno, I agree,” Leroy said slowly.
    Joe and I were having our second beer and Leroy had already switched to ice tea (but, for some reason, Bea didn’t make him leave and come back in.   Maybe it was because he was the sheriff!).   I looked out the window and watched one of the older city police cruisers pull up out front and parked.   A short man, wearing a Humboldt Police uniform got out of the cruiser and left the engine running.
    Leroy saw my reaction, turned on his barstool, and also looked out the window. “Carson, it is truly your lucky day,” he laughed.

“Oh, yeah and why is that?”
    “Because here comes Officer Carl Menard.   He is the policeman that said he saw Henry in the vicinity of where the girl’s body was found.   You’ll get to meet him,