Cold New Year: Part Five

I have gone over my familiarity and issues with the Bannville Police Department. Captain Robert Stein and I have a healthy relationship built on trust and a mutual wish that the public remain safe and informed. Detective Gerald Parker and I just plain hate each other. Such is life.

I turned to look at the two of them. They were in dress uniform, the blue dark and clean highlighted by the bright yellow ribbons and chevrons that denoted each man’s rank. They looked damn impressive. Stein had his head shaved bald, the lights overhead gleaming in his dark skin. Parker, a head shorter than the other man had his blonde hair cut with the usual buzz that made me want to touch it to see if it stuck out like that on its own. I held up my small plastic plate and offered each man a cookie.

They declined.

Arrested Again

I lifted my hands and turned away from the body to face Detective Parker. After the events this weekend, I did not want to give him any reason to shoot me. The gun in his hand raised a bit as I moved, daring me to do something. I stayed on my knees.

“Look, Gerald...” I said.

“Shut the fuck up. That who I think it is?” he said.

I looked down and nodded, “She called the library. Hysterical. I came right over.”

“Jesus, Banned. What kind of monster are you? First the girl, now this?”

I Find Her

Mom had a lot of questions for me on Monday, mostly about why my hand was so damaged and why Detective Parker had been waiting when she arrived to open the library. I told her in as vague a terms as I could that there had been a little misunderstanding at the Honky Tonk, but that everything was okay. She pursed her lips in that way only mother’s can and left it alone while we were in the library.

I spent the morning shelving, getting rid of the clutter that had accumulated over the weekend. Then, at around ten, Mom answered the phone.

“Betty... Hon, slow down. It’s okay, it’s okay, just slow down. Evan? It’s Betty. She wants to talk to you.”

Mom covered the phone and held it away from her mouth, “She sounds hysterical. You need to calm her down. And you tell me at once if if sounds like she needs an ambulance.”

I nodded and took the phone.

Over the Fence

I cannot be sure how many of you have ever attempted to climb over a cattle fence with your hands handcuffed behind you. I imagine it is not a few. Here’s a few basic tips to guide you along your way:

1. Check to be sure a gate is nearby. If so, try to go through that. If you can’t go through it, climb over it rather than the fence itself.
2. Check for a gap, either under or through the fence to climb through.
3. Check for electricity. Not with your pee.

If all of the options above check out and your only option is to go over, here’s what you DO NOT DO:

• Attempt to jump over like a drunken grasshopper.
• Attempt to roll over, because razor wire hurts, kids.
• Lick it
• Worry about your clothes. You are handcuffed and climbing a cattle fence. You have bigger things to worry about.

Barely Standing

I have mentioned before that I have never been arrested and charged with a crime. That was true then as much as it is now. I respect law enforcement and its place in society as much as I believe Captain Stein respects the library and its place. That being said, I have not always been as honest as I could have been with the members of the local law enforcement. Case in point, the murder of a clown and magician in my library.

More than one of the Bannville Police have fines and overdue books. Just saying.

The particular officer whom I have a great amount of displeasure toward is Detective Parker. He still remembers the time I peed on his leg; I still remember the time he arrested me with little evidence. Ours is a love/hate relationship.

So when Barry and I stumbled out of the Honky Tonk several hours after I talked to Cassidy, Detective Parker was the last person I wanted to see.

Search and Seizure

The police never do anything like they do on television. At least not with average citizens in small towns. Sure, murders do not happen here every day. They warrant special attention. Please pardon the pun. The police did when they came to serve the library one today.

All in all, Parker was down right nice about it. He was smug and all, but that’s just his way. Maybe it was the overkill that was making him giddy. I mean, you don’t need a search warrant to look in a public building that was also a crime scene, but they went ahead and got one with all the i’s and t’s and all that. Kinda wish I had been there to see Judge Oldman look over those bifocals at them and raise one fuzzy eyebrow.

So they came in at noon, just as everyone but Mom and I had gone to lunch.

Hanging Quilts

The town of Bannville has a long and interesting past. I have told you about Fire Day and Viper Day, but there are many other days lost in time where many sordid things happened. Like how our town was founded. If you go by the official history, two brothers, Stephen and Thomas Banned, came down into the piney woods. They found a small community called Jeff’s Bluff and through cunning and entrepreneurship in the logging industry brought civilization to the land.

Another tale not on the books goes that the brothers got the land when Jeff had an unfortunate accident with an axe. And by accident I mean he fell on it. Repeatedly. Off the top of the bluff that bears his name. Could happen to anybody.

Questionable Questioning

My mom really likes murder mysteries, especially ones where random events or clues are put together at the end to solve the case. Since I was young she always read the newest Mary Higgins Clark, often breaking the street date. My introduction to television was not Sesame Street but Perry Mason, then Matlock, then Law & Order in every flavor. The first book series I can remember her turning me onto was Encyclopedia Brown.

I do not think she likes it when she is in one, though. Especially when her baby boy, me, is the chief suspect.

Wrong Kind of Bars

“I don’t like jail, they got the wrong kind of bars in there.” - Charles Bukowski

I have never been arrested before. I have been questioned, pulled over, handcuffed, put in the back of squad cars, but I have never been formally charged with any crime. It goes with living in a small Southern town, listening to punk rock and doing my fair share of alcohol and drugs. But I straightened out. All that was behind me. So I thought.