* * * *
“What the hell?” said Sheriff Johnson as he put the key into the front door of the jail and tried to unlock it.
“What’s wrong,” asked Kate, who had practically forced him to let her help serve breakfast to the inmates this morning.
“The lock…it was already open!”
“I’m sure it’s just a deputy,” she said, trying not to smile.
It’s fine, she thought, but in a panic, she wondered who knew. Had the others seen or heard something? She was about to find out and soon.
Reaching her hand into her purse, she felt the smooth barrel of her semiautomatic pistol that her fiancé had given her just over a year ago and taught her to shoot with confidence. She wasn’t planning to use it, but she was not going down like the rest of the people in here if it went bad. After all, she had watched a woman hanged only a few short weeks ago.
“Piece of gum?” she asked him. He was staring at her fiddling with her purse.
“Huh? Ah no, but thanks for last night,” he said, with a wink.
“It’s just what I do, taking care of my man,” she said, smiling flirtatiously.
Let’s get this over with, she thought, following him inside.
“Sheriff, is that you?” called Ken from the back.
“Yeah, I’m here. Just getting breakfast ready. Have you seen my deputy this morning?”
“No, sir. Can you please check on Judge Lowry?” Ken asked. “I can’t see him, and I haven’t heard a word out of him since last night. None of us have. I hope he didn’t do something stupid to hurt himself…or worse.”
“Be right there,” the Sheriff said, picking up two trays, not wanting to waste a trip on this most important day.
“Judge, you all right?” he asked, as he put two trays under the other men’s cell doors. “You all right?” he called again, while Kate slid one under Ken’s cell door, getting a subtle thumbs-up.
“What’s going on here?” called the Sheriff loudly, resting his arm on the cell’s front door, fumbling for his keys. The door shook enough to see it was unlocked, and he entered in a rage, tossing the keys across the narrow room. “What the hell is going on here?!” he called out again.
Kate came running up behind, with her shocked face already formed perfectly on her high cheeks.
“Where is he?!” she gasped.
“That’s what I want to know. He was here last night for supper, right?” The question was directed at Kate and the other prisoners. Everyone nodded their heads yes.
“Where’s my lead deputy?” the Sheriff called out.
“I’m here,” the deputy called back from the front door, unaware of the situation. “Thought I would come in early to help get these guys ready for the show today,” he added, walking towards the back… “Is everything okay?” he asked when he received no reply.
“What do you think?” asked the Sheriff, pointing into the empty cell.
“Oh, no!” said the deputy.
“Unbelievable!” replied the Sheriff. “Let me see your keys,” he added, pointing to the man he had trusted for more than five years.
“What for?... Wait a minute! You don’t think I let him out?”
“He’s a Judge, not a ghost, so I’m sure he didn’t just float out. Besides, both his cell and the front door were unlocked, replied the Sheriff.
Ken was now officially more nervous about this than his jump, only hours away. He was happy Kate had thought to have his cell door relocked, and the paper he had consumed last night was digesting nicely.
“There are three copies of these keys. Only three. Yours, mine, and the set at home in my safe. When was the last time you heard him speak, Ken?” he said, realizing the last person in here was his girlfriend with the spare set.
“A few hours after she left,” Ken said, pointing to her but not saying her name. “He seemed fine last night. It was just this morning I didn’t hear him.”
“You locked the front door?” he asked her.
“Of course,” she replied, intentionally acting annoyed.
“I done heard it,” said James’ shooter. “Plus, she didn’t come near any of the cell doors, I can testify to that.”
“Your testimony I don’t need!” yelled the Sheriff.
James’ shooter realized she hadn’t said anything about what he did last night, and he still had a better chance of fighting Richard than just being killed. Besides, he had a plan.
“Let’s go up front,” said the Sheriff, still upset. “You—in my office,” he added, pointing to his deputy. “Kate, please wait outside.”
“Now, show me your keys,” Sheriff Johnson demanded from his right-hand man. “Did you let him out last night? Form some sort of deal with him?”
“No, sir, I didn’t.”
“So that just leaves Kate?” the Sheriff questioned.
“Well, sure, Yeah, I guess.”
“What would you do?” asked the Sheriff.
“I don’t know, sir. Maybe talk to her or me, I don’t know.”
“How many sets?” asked the Sheriff.
“How many what, sir?”
“How many sets of your keys did you have made?”
“Why, I’m not sure what you...”
“How many?” he screamed.
“Three, sir. Three more sets.”
“Why?”
“It’s just…well, I’m working a lot, way more than the other guys. I was always the one to open the jailhouse early in the morning and lock up at night. My wife was upset, and I hardly ever got to eat with my kids. So, I had a couple of other sets made on my day off a couple of years back and gave them to a few of my guys to help out, and even out the load a bit.”
“You made sets of my keys to my jailhouse without my permission?”
“Yes…well, yes, sir. But I’m really…”
“Lay your pistol on the table and your badge next to your keys.”
“Wait a minute. Just wait a minute!” said the deputy.
“Do it!”
Reluctantly he did as he was instructed, laying both his firearm and badge on the desk before turning to walk out the front