Sheriff Bowman Poole
Wednesday Afternoon, March 8
% Friends from Mrs. Stone’s church were still at the
house when Bo Poole returned and it was not dif-
ficult for him to cut young Ennis Stone out of the
crowd. “I just want him to retrace the route that last
day he took his granddaddy out,” he told her. “Maybe
it’ll help him remember something we can use. We
won’t be gone long.”
The boy looked apprehensive but got in the sheriff ’s
van without protest.
“Let’s see now,” said Bo. “You picked him up after
school, right?”
“Yessir. About three-thirty.”
“And took him where?”
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HARD ROW
“To Sparky’s. For a cheeseburger. He loved cheese-
burgers.”
“Where’s this Sparky’s?”
Ennis directed him to a fast-food joint on the south
side of Black Creek. As Bo suspected, it was only a short
distance from the footpath that led down to the creek.
He pulled into the parking lot and said, “Then
what?”
The boy shrugged. “Then I took him back to Sunset
Meadows.”
“And helped him lie down for a rest?”
“Yessir.” He pointed down the street. “That’s the
way we went.”
But Bo did not move the car. Instead, he looked back
at Sparky’s. It seemed to be a popular hangout. There
were video games at one end and teenagers came and
went. A couple of girls waved to Ennis, but he barely
acknowledged them.
“Friends of yours?”
He nodded.
After a minute, Bo shifted from neutral and drove
down the street, but instead of turning left, back into
town, he turned right and continued on till he reached
the cable where the street dead-ended.
“Your granddaddy used to run a trapline along the
creek down there. Did you know that?”
“Yessir.” It was barely a whisper.
Bo switched off the engine and turned to look at the
boy, who seemed to shrink against the door.
