Free Dead Weight by Steven F. Havill Page B

someone’s got valid information on a crooked deputy, then why doesn’t he just come forward and spill the beans? Go to the district attorney’s office, or the attorney general. Sign a deposition. What’s the point in all this anonymous shit?”
    “The county sheriff can be a powerful position, Bill.”
    “I’m overwhelmed with all the power I seem to have,” I said.
    He scoffed with amusement. “You’re a cop. Not a politician. But besides the schools, the other wings of the county government, and the hospital, your department is one of the largest employers in the county. That’s just for starters.” He ticked off on his fingers. “Sheriff sales. Civil work. Bids to important vendors. You can make other politicians look good or bad, your choice. On and on and on. Even the little stuff. You can talk to any service club any time you want as a guest speaker, beating your own drum.”
    “That’s something that’s appealing, all right,” I scoffed.
    “Not to you, maybe, but it’s all part of the package for someone who’s interested. It’s enough to make a regular citizen hesitate before going out on a limb against the county sheriff. There’s probably some fear of retribution, a little bit of paranoia that if they try to stand alone without official support they’re going to get squashed. It’s just easier to have someone else fight the battle for you. Being a whistle- blower is a lonely business. But an election.” He rapped the dashboard again for emphasis. “That changes the whole formula.”
    “How so?”
    “Hey, spread a little gossip, spread a little rumor, and pretty soon what happens? The rumor starts to take on a life of its own.”
    “And so I gather you think these moronic letters are the first stage in some kind of organized attempt to discredit us, discredit Bob, discredit the department, so someone else can win. A little nasty publicity just as the campaign gets under way.”
    “That’s a good guess. Either side stands to gain.”
    “Why pick Tom Pasquale? He’s just a kid.”
    “Assuming he’s innocent? He’s a good target, is why. He might have ruffled somebody’s feathers sometime in the past. There might be a grudge there. If I remember my own newspaper’s files, Pasquale has had his share of scrapes, and just enough heroics that when the story breaks in the newspapers, readers will say, ‘Oh yeah, him…’”
    “When the story breaks?”
    Dayan waved a hand. “A figure of speech. Carter and Gray received letters. They’re both Democrats. That leaves three to go. Tobe Ulibarri and Frank Weaver are Republicans. Janelle Waters is a Democrat. Care to bet who’s going to contact you next?”
    “So why are you betting on the Democrats? Why am I going to hear from Janelle Waters…not that she’s such a bad dish to hear from, mind you.”
    Waters topped the list of Posadas’s eligible singles. Her husband had been building a prosperous dental practice when cancer killed him at age thirty-eight. For reasons unknown to anyone but her, she had elected to remain in Posadas.
    “Sheriff Martin Holman was a Republican, and an active one. You served as undersheriff for a long time before he took office and then nearly eight years as undersheriff for Holman afterward. Your department is a reflection of what he and you built as a team. Bob Torrez is a popular part of that. Hell, he’s related to half the Hispanic population of the county.”
    “And if the Republicans jump on us, it’ll look like they’re turning on their own ‘team,’ as you put it. If they jump on Torrez, it’ll make them look vindictive, even though he was never a registered Republican anyway.”
    “Something like that. All I’m saying is that to me, it explains why the one side is so quick to attack and the other side is holding back a little bit.”
    “So who’s attacked? Neither Gray nor Carter wrote the note. They just apprised me of it.”
    “And lost no time, either.”
    “Why should they? If