around a funny-looking box at him. “Miss Harris, have you ever taken a polygraph test before?”
“No, I sure haven’t.”
“No problem. Let me explain how this works. The machine detects abnormalities in a person’s body when he or she responds falsely to a question. In laymen terms, it can detect when someone is telling a lie. Any questions?”
“Where’s the machine?” Shirley said, looking around the room.
Sheriff Bledsoe got up and tapped on the funny-looking box. “Right here. Now if you’d allow me to wrap this cord around your chest.” He picked up a Velcro-covered cord and approached her.
She pushed his hands away. “What the hell is this?”
“A polygraph machine… the old model.”
“Like hell it is! This looks like something you made in your garage. What you trying to pull here, Ennis?”
Sheriff Bledsoe opened his mouth and quickly closed it.
Shirley squinted at him. “You hooked Robert Earl up to this crap, didn’t you?”
“Well, uh, I, uh…”
“The reason he left in such a huff. You hooked him up to this junk and he spilled his guts, didn’t he? Did he confess to a crime?”
“Yes, he did.”
“He’s not in jail, so it was something he did a long time ago. Right?”
Sheriff Bledsoe nodded.
“You know what anusitis is, Ennis?”
He shook his head.
“It’s a thought disorder, delusions of intellectual superiority. Non-athletic white men with beer bellies are most susceptible to it. They can have a GED and still believe they’re ten times smarter than Obama.” Staring at the box: “How often you listen to Rush?”
“I played football in high school. Offensive end.”
“Practice. You’re talking about practice? Not once I saw you in a game.”
Sheriff Bledsoe put a fist to his mouth and burped.
Shirley lifted the box and looked underneath. “I don’t believe this shit here,” and let it drop to the desk with a resounding thud. “This is the wildest shit I’ve ever seen in my life.”
Sheriff Bledsoe patted his chest.
“Ennis, you think my family are a bunch of imbeciles, don’t you? Does the mayor know you made this?”
Sheriff Bledsoe flinched, but didn’t speak.
“Maybe I should go talk to him. Is he in his office? Maybe I should go talk to those civil rights people over in Greenville. Or maybe I should tell my family to stop cooperating with you and hire a lawyer. I wonder what a lawyer would say about this.”
“Shirley… Miss Harris, I apologize.”
“Wow, golly gee whiz! How big of you!”
“Look, I made a mistake. I apologize. The polygraph machine I needed to use is broke, so I tried this. I see now it was a terrible and silly mistake on my part. I wasn’t trying to outsmart anyone.”
“Uh-huh,” Shirley snorted.
“Honest. This is a heckuva case, Shirley, a heckuva case. To be honest with you, I’m getting nowhere with it.”
“Who’s your main suspect?”
“I can’t tell you.”
“Do you even have a main suspect?”
“Yes, I do. In fact, I have more than one. The problem in a nutshell—too many main suspects.”
“You can eliminate Momma and me.” He gave her a wary look. “Don’t look upside my head—I didn’t do it. The sooner you find out who did, the sooner I can collect my share of the money and get married. I’ve got a good idea who did it. I’d like to know who you think did it. Maybe you and I are on the same page.”
“Who? Who do you think did it?”
“First tell me who you think did it.”
“C’mon, Shirley, this isn’t a game. This is a police investigation. I’ve said too much already. This is totally against police procedure.”
Shirley pointed at the box. “Is this against police procedure?”
Sheriff Bledsoe frowned, held her gaze for a moment, then blurted, “Eric Barnes.”
“What about him?”
Sheriff Bledsoe gave her a look.
Shirley gasped. “What! Hell no! Why… why do you think Eric had something to do with it?”
“He served your father his last meal, didn’t he?”
“So what?” Shirley shouted. “So fucking what! Big damn deal! Just ’cause he—look here, Ennis, you got Eric dead wrong. Eric is not a killer!”
“You sure about that?”
“What kind of question is that? I tell you what, if you start harassing Eric, I’ll go to the mayor and tell him about you and your damn fake polygraph machine! I won’t sit by and watch you railroad Eric. He had nothing to gain from Daddy’s death. Nothing! You hear me? Nothing!”
“You and him live together. Isn’t it reasonable to assume when you obtain your daddy’s money he would benefit?”
“Yes, you’re right, but you’re damn wrong about Eric, Ennis. He has his problems, I can’t deny that. He’s not a murderer.”
“He would, more than likely, also benefit from Ruth Ann.”
“Ha! You kidding me? Ruth Ann won’t give her own flesh and blood a dime. What makes you think she’ll give Eric a slug nickel?”
Sheriff Bledsoe rubbed his moustache with both hands. Shirley noticed his fingers were trembling.
“Shirley, I shouldn’t be the one telling you this. Your sister and…” He drifted off.
“What?”
Sheriff Bledsoe shook his head.
“Ennis, you do know everything you see on TV isn’t necessarily true. Homemade polygraph machines, rub- away weight loss ointments, gadgets from the Acme Supply Company. You can’t set your watch by those things in the real world, Ennis. Well, you can, but if you’re an elected official…” She paused and smiled at him. “You see where I’m going with this?”
“Eric and Ruth Ann were having an affair.”
Shirley jumped up and backhanded the box. It skidded across the floor and crashed into the wall—Kablam!— sending five boards and bulb shards in every direction.
Sheriff Bledsoe stood up. “Hey, now!”
“A damn lie!” Shirley hissed through clenched teeth. “A damn lie! Take it back! Take it back! Take it back now, fat ass!”
Sheriff Bledsoe backed up a step, the wall at his back. “Shirley,” pointing a shaky finger at her, “you need to calm down and sit down. You just damaged government property, a felony offense!”
“I don’t give a damn! You take back what you said!” Sheriff Bledsoe looked past her, and Shirley followed his gaze to a holstered gun on a hat rack. “You gotta get through me to get it!”
“Yesterday I caught Eric sneaking behind Ruth Ann’s house. He was—”
“Don’t mean a damn thing! You take back the mess you said about Eric and my sister!” She grabbed the chair with one hand and lifted it up. “Take it back!”
“Check yourself,” raising his hands. “I’m trying to explain to you what—if you hit me with that chair, you’re going to jail!”
“I don’t give a damn!”
“Shirley, you’re bucking serious trouble here. You can’t threaten a sheriff.”
The chair was getting heavy, but Shirley raised it higher. “You still haven’t taken back what you said about my sister. It’s a blatant lie, and you know it!”
