Miscarriage of Justice

"Oh, shine!" said Lucy Mayer.  "It's them!"

"Them?" inquired Sheriff Alan Steel.  Lucy was his Dispatch Officer, a short, stout woman, who had served the county police department for over two decades.  She was the second longest active employee, next to Alan's twenty-five years of service.  They had an instinctual rapport with each other, and he had come to rely on her common sense.

Lucy had come back to Alan's office, and looked furtively towards the front.  "It looks like half of New Life church has come here.  Even that preacher man, I forget his name."  Lucy had some disdain for the church, being that she was a faithful attendee of the more proper First Baptist Church, at least more proper in her eyes.  Alan sometimes found the many almost unfathomable divisions of Baptists amusing, but that may because he attended the one and only United Methodist Church in Dixon County, Crowley United Methodist.  They had to get along, because if you were going to be a United Methodist, that church was it.  "I hate to admit it, Sheriff, but I'm a mite unnerved by them.  There's got to be a dozen or more.  What are they all doing here?"

A dozen was a big crowd for the police department's tiny lobby.  Thank goodness it wasn't half the church as Lucy exaggeratedly said at first.  They must have attendance in excess of a thousand. There were at least three churches, all Baptist of one kind or another (one claimed not to be Baptist, but it certainly walked and talked like that duck), that had four figure attendance numbers.  His own church was good sized, one of the biggest of the non-Baptist churches, but it still never had much more than 200.

Sheriff Alan thought for a second, and then had a horrible feeling he knew why they might be there.  "Oh, my lord!  This is probably about Race."

"Race?" puzzled Lucy.  "Oh, you mean your niece, Racine?  That poor girl who just lost her baby?  What could they want that had anything to do with that?"

"Watch, Lucy," said Sheriff Steel.  "Watch and be amazed.  Send in that preacher man by himself and the rest can cool their jets in the lobby, as long as they're civil.  And that preacher man goes by the moniker Pastor Dan.  I don't know his real full name."

Lucy nodded and went out to get Pastor Dan.  When she came back she said, "Pastor Dan is ready to come back, but Larry Luck and that politician lady, Dotty Mathers, want to come back with him."  Larry was a farmer in the area, and he was kind of a rival with his brother, Grant.  Grant operated the large family farm; the one Alan just wanted to get away from.  Dotty Mathers was the crazy woman running for Congress, and had made such a scene at Congressman Winston's last town hall meeting that a video of it went viral on YouTube.

"No, Lucy.  Just Pastor Dan.  I'll come out to the lobby and talk to all of them after I've seen him."

"Ten-four, Sheriff."  Lucy went back out.  After a minute, Pastor Dan came into his office.  He was a tall, rail thin man. in his thirties, with a serene face, but a commanding intensity in his hazel brown eyes. His brown hair was closely cropped, almost in a crew cut.

Sheriff Alan sat in the chair behind his desk, and just looked up at Pastor Dan.  He did not invite Pastor Dan to sit down.  He did not say a word to him.  He just stared at him, with a what-the-hell do you want stare.

"Good morning, Sheriff Steel," began Pastor Dan, finally giving in.

"You sure come a long way just to wish me a good morning," drawled Sheriff Alan. "And you sure brought a lot of crew to do it.  Y'all taking up power walking or something?  Y'all need us to get you some water or juice or something?"

Pastor Dan looked frustrated.  This was probably not how he envisioned the conversation going.  "There is a new law that has been proposed by the state legislature that will empower local police authorities to make inquiries abut any terminated pregnancies within their jurisdiction.  Now, it's not official law yet, but it is clearly the intent of the legislature to encourage our authorities to do this."

Pastor Dan paused, waiting for a response.  After a minute, Sheriff Alan said. "So?"

"Your niece, Racine Steel, recently left town to go to an unknown destination, pregnant with a child clearly outside the first trimester, and when she came back, the baby was gone.  She claims it was a miscarriage, but no one seems to know for sure.  We are asking that you make inquiries, and get proof that it was indeed a miscarriage.  Since she is your niece, it should not be difficult to acquire the proof that you need.   I know that you are a godly man, Sheriff Steel, and you will want to do what's right in his eyes."

There was another long, uncomfortable pause.  Pastor Dan shifted uncomfortably. 

"No," flatly answered the Sheriff.

"Sir, I am asking you, for the sake of the community, for the sake of that poor unborn infant, for the very soul of your niece, Racine, we must know what happened so that we can reach out and heal and make things right again."

"No," repeated the Sheriff.

Pastor Dan was flummoxed.  He had expected some resistance, but this lack of engagement was really getting to him.  "Why?  Do you not care about your niece and her place in Heaven?"

"I do not have to explain to you squat on a butter crust roll.  It ain't the law, and nobody can come in here and make me pursue laws that ain't even on the books yet.  And I care a damn sight more about my niece than you and your whole pack out there ever could, and I find it insulting that you would even bring that up."

Now the Sheriff was answering back.  Now Pastor Dan could engage.  "There is a lot of disquiet in the community over this.  Disquiet that might not be wise for you to ignore."

"Disquiet that you and your buddies out there are provoking.  Most people don't give a damn about this unless you rile them up."

"Is this because it's your niece?  It might seem you are playing favorites because it's your family."

Sheriff Alan had intended to stay firm but calm.  But this so-called preacher man was getting personal.  "Step back from the abyss, my friend.  You don't want to go there.  Let me make it clear.  I don't give a whit who it is.  I'm not going to do this.  It's an intrusion and a place I don't want to go.  Now, you get your allies in the legislature to pass this thing, and I'll have to deal with it.  Until then, do not darken my office with this nonsense."

Pastor Dan struggled to regain his anchoring.  "Fine.  I see there is no reasoning with you.  Just understand, Sheriff, that New Life is a large congregation, with many voters.  And it's not the only church in the area that could be persuaded on electoral issues."

Sheriff Steel rose up from his chair.  "Are you threatening me?  You think I care about the next election?  Hell, it'll give me an excuse to put this all behind, spend more time with Vicki, catch some fish, maybe slop some hogs with my brother Grant."

He got up and opened his office door, gesturing for Pastor Dan to leave.  "I've had my say.  You got your answer.  Now you and your congregation go someplace and maybe pray a minute about what your priorities really should be."

Pastor Dan could not resist one last plea.  "Look, you maybe could end this yourself," he whispered.  "You probably already know, being that she's your brother's daughter.  Just let me know what you know, and I'll take your word for it, and I'll end this right now."

Sheriff Alan looked at him coldly.  "I don't have to tell you a single damn thing."  He got within inches of his face, looking up at the taller man.  "Now get out of my station.  We got real work to do here."

Pastor Dan started to say something else, thought better of it, and walked back to the lobby. The Sheriff followed, up until the front counter. Pastor Dan shook his head no to his waiting congregants.  There was wailing and screaming, as if half the town had disappeared in a mining accident. 

"We'll have your job for this!" shouted Dotty Mathers, her booming voice rising above all other noise. 

The Sheriff guffawed.  "Have at it, Dotty!  Quit your run for Congress and come be Sheriff.  That ought to be entertaining!"  Lucy Mayers couldn't help but to snort out a laugh.

Pastor Dan quieted the crowd.  "Listen, everybody!  Please!  Now, Sheriff Steel is a good man, and we're not an unruly mob.  We can't bully him into accepting the truth, especially when it involves his own flesh and blood.  Now, we have, in good faith, tried the powers of persuasion, and it did not work.  Let us go back to New Life and begin a prayer vigil, because we all know the true and awesome power of prayer!"

The crowd assented its affirmation, and then left the County police station.

"The worst thing about 'Baptist, is that any pack of fools think if they put that in the name of their church that makes them 'Baptist'.  Trust me, my First Baptist people would never behave this way," huffed Lucy.

"Really, Lucy?"  The Sheriff released a heavy sigh.  "I guess we'll see over time, won't we?"

Chucking it all and just grabbing a fishing pole was sounding better and better all the time.  That's what he was thinking as he closed his eyes for just a second, trying to melt all the stress away,

But it wasn't over.  It was just the beginning of what would prove to be the most stressful week of his life.