You'll Need a Flowchart

Home is where the DVR is.  At least for Deputy Davis Gorland.  He liked nothing better than to come home from a hard day at the Sheriff's office, turn on his 52 inch flat screen, and plunge into the world of his DVRed programs.  All of his favorites ready and waiting.  He'd bring in a glorious raft of comfort foods, and be ready for hours of his favorite shows.  Eventually, he would fall asleep; most often when he was watching a recording of yesterday's The Tonight Show (loved that Jimmy Fallon!).  But no problem!  He simply would not delete that episode, and finish watching it the next day.

Sometimes Davis got lonely.  Sometimes he wishes he had someone to share it all with.  But what if they had different taste in television?  What if they didn't like television at all? 

He thought of his sister and her convoluted brood, and he thought, maybe it isn't so bad to walk alone.  Or couch alone, as his case may be. 

When he was just starting out on the force, some fifteen years ago, and he was about fifty pounds lighter (still making him about two hundred and fifty), he thought he might have something going with Mary Sweat, a sweet, petite young thing who didn't mind cuddling in front of the TV.  But she was pushing marriage faster than he wanted, and so she broke things off, and within a few months she married Joe Easter.  And now she had five kids, a whole basketball team.  She was still sweet but no longer petite.  Of course, there was nothing really he could say about that.  He would say this about the Easter family - at least they were all still together.  You couldn't say that about a lot of the families around here, especially his sister's.  Danielle's family was so complicated, you almost felt like you needed a flowchart to keep track of it.

Having spent the day managing the department while his boss, Sheriff Alan Steel, investigated the bizarre Rondy Strickland killing, Davis wanted nothing more to crawl on to his couch with a huge bucket of fried chicken from The Chicken Hut, and start binge watching Breaking Bad.  But he wasn't going to do that.  He was going to be a good son and visit his Daddy, something he tried to do once a week.

He would have loved to have his father come stay with him at his duplex, but with his job, it would have been impossible to give him the time and attention he needed.  Daddy had bad emphysema and was on an oxygen tank most of the time.  The truth was his sister, Danielle, didn't work, and was able to spend more time with him.  And if she didn't, one of her cavalcade of children and step-children could step up and fill in.  And he also thought, as much as it pained him, that Daddy liked it there better.  There was so much more going on at Danielle's trailer, so much more than the long hours of quiet at Davis's duplex, punctuated only by the sounds and glow from the boob tube.

He pulled into the trailer park.  Danielle's mobile home was near the front, and it was the largest one there.  It needed to be, with the number of people she had coming in and out of it.  It was like two double wides combined, or seemed that way.  There certainly was nothing "mobile" left about it.  It was never going anywhere ever again.

Sandy Harley and Digger Crowley were sitting out at a picnic table in front of the trailer, on a makeshift patio near the front door.  They each were downing a Busch, and had several empties on the table.  They were engaged in some involved conversation that quieted when Sandy saw Davis approaching.  "Hey, Deputy Dawg!" teased Sandy.  "How's it hanging?  You guys got enough yet to fry that little Hollander fellow?"

Sandy was Danielle's step son through her marriage to Randy Harley.  Randy was no longer in the picture, killed three years ago in a botched drug raid in Bacon County.  He was one of the criminals, and to be honest, Davis did not mourn his loss.  He was a violent man, and he was afraid for Danielle and her kids the entire time he was around.

"We're still looking into it, Sandy.  These things often take time," answered Davis.  Actually, he was confused by what the Sheriff was doing.  They had arrested Gariton Hollander for the murder, but the Sheriff was completely undisturbed by Christie Delco Hollander making the little guy's bail, and it almost seemed like Sheriff Steel was using him like a consultant.  It was a weird case, but even so, Davis regretted not being more involved.

Danielle opened up the screen door and came out to give Davis a big hug.  She was of sturdy frame, but just big, not overweight like Davis.  She could barely get her arms around Davis's girth.  She'd had a hard life, with many ups and downs, bur she retained a kind of steely beauty.  Her hair was dyed dirty blonde, and was layered and shoulder length.  She was wearing a tank top, and her upper arm tattoo of a unicorn riding a rainbow was easily seen, unlike some of her other tattoos, some of which Davis was grateful he had only heard of and had never seen.

"Well, well, hey there, baby bro!  Come to see me or Daddy?" she slyly queried.

Davis knew the right answer to this.  He had heard it often enough.  "Why, both of you, of course!"

"Well, don't just hang in the doorway!  Stop letting the flies in and come on inside!"  Even though it was only February, it had warmed up enough to turn on the flying insects.  He was grateful he wasn't out dredging the swamp right now for Kayak Kelly.

He came in and saw the Gorland twins sitting on the sofa watching TV in nothing but their underwear.  Sammy was sucking his thumb, and when Roland saw Davis out of the corner of his eye, he quickly removed his hand from his underwear.  Davis didn't even want to think about that.  They were watching Maury Povich with some neanderthalic guests getting paternity tests or something.  The caption on the screen read "Who's Your Daddy?'  Davis freely admitted he was a TVholic, but he at least did not sit around watching crap TV in his underwear.

"Hey, Roland!  Hey, Sammy!" said Davis.  The Gorland twins did not even look up from their program.  The twins were children Danielle had after her first marriage but before her second.  She insisted they have her maiden  name, so Davis could only sigh inwardly when he thought those two would be the ones to carry forward the Gorland last name.

Seated at the kitchen table were Danielle's two daughters from her first husband, Charlie Kapok.  Susi Kapok sat doing her nails, the smell of her fresh polish wafted across the trailer.  The older daughter was also there, Cissy Kapok.  Both girls were lush figures, large breasted and barely contained within their clothes.  Susi had been recently seen off and on with Bobby Ray, the injured high school quarterback, who was struggling in his recent relationship with Racine Steel.  Davis felt like Susi was a pretty girl, with some intelligence, who could achieve so much more if she just presented herself better and focused more on her schoolwork.  Anyways, she was the friendliest of the kids to him, so maybe that just made him partial to her.

Cissy was holding a baby, the most recent addition to Danielle's clan.  Little Denise Gorland, less than a year old, was being fed a bottle by Cissy.  Danielle, having birthed Denise at age 38, was tight lipped about who the father was.  Davis knew she was hanging out some with Billy Heart a year ago, but she wasn't on Maury Povich, so there would be no proving paternity tests.  Davis really didn't care for her involvement with Billy Heart, what with the slight taint of marijuana that always hung about Billy, but even Davis had to admit that Billy was not dangerous, especially when compared to Randy Harley.  Sometimes Davis wished that if Danielle just had to get involved with a Harley, she had chosen Roger instead.  Roger Harley was the Vice Principal at the high school, and had successfully risen above the violent roots of his family.  But alas, Danielle was never attracted to the responsible ones.  She had never really grown out of her bad boy stage.

He heard the toilet flush, and little three old Debbie Reese came out proudly, skipping and dancing at the brilliant job she had done, successfully using the potty.  "Mama! Mama!  I wash-ed my hands too!"  She held up her hands to her Mama.  They were still wet and dripping.

"You such a good girl!" said her mother, still holding the baby.  Debbie was a child that Cissy had when she was just sixteen.  Davis was sure whose it was, even if the world outside of the family didn't know.  It was why Davis had to come late one night and give Randy Harley an ultimatum.  Get out of the house or get arrested.  Randy left, and was killed in that drug raid three months later.

Five months into the pregnancy, Cissy married eighteen year old Eddie Reese (Skipper's older brother), claiming a prior relationship that would cover the time of the conception.  The marriage lasted only six months, and Cissy rejoined Danielle's clan.

Davis walked to the bedroom farthest from the kitchen, at the very end of the mobile home.  Danielle was sweet enough to give Daddy the master bedroom.  Daddy had his own TV back there, but most of the time he just liked listening to the family.  His vision wasn't so good, but his hearing was still sharp.  When he wasn't listening to the family, he liked to play his radio (he was a big fan of the Atlanta Braves), and an old record player he had, listening to old, scratchy LPs.

Daddy was sitting in a big old Lazy Boy lift chair.  He started to get up to greet his son, but Davis got there in time to hug Daddy before he could get up.  Daddy was on oxygen, his nose and lip slightly red from the chafing of the tubes.  "Hello, Davis!  Good to see you, son!" He looked Davis over carefully, from head to toe.  "Why, Davis, you're looking good.  I swear you've lost a few pounds!  You lose any more and you're gonna have every unhitched gal from here to Waycross coming after you!"  Daddy used to be a much heavier man, not quite Davis's weight but still two hundred or more.  Now his flesh just hung loosely, draped across his frail frame.

Davis smiled a little grin.  "Thank you, Daddy.  But I'm afraid I'm as fat as ever.  You're gonna make me worry about your eyesight!"

Daddy got Social Security and a hard earned pension from the railroad.  He gave the management of his money over to Danielle, and as far as Davis could tell, she had not abused it.  Danielle supported everyone with a mix of Social Security, Disability checks and food stamps.  He had mixed feelings about all that, but she was taking care of a lot of people, and wasn't that an important job too?  Even Sandy and Bandy Harley, as nasty as they were, contributed to the finances.  Bandy worked at the paper mill, and brought in what he could, even though he lived apart from them.  Sandy gave money from some of the odd jobs he did for the slumlord Archie Crowley (how odd Davis didn't want to look at too closely).

They talked for almost an hour, mostly about the Braves, and some inquiries about how other people he knew in Crowley were doing, about the weather, and planning a trip to go fishing soon. It was a good visit, and Davis didn't regret missing a chance to binge watch his shows. 

He gave Daddy a cautious hug, trying not to hurt him.  How many more times, Davis wondered.  How many more visits would there be?  He would strive to cherish each one.

As he hugged him, Daddy said, "Them boys is up to something."

Davis pulled back a bit, and looked at Daddy, slightly puzzled.  "What boys?"

"Sandy and Digger.  I hear them talking.  They up to something.  Something about the swamp and a project of some kind.  Something about a man that's missing.  Something about a Kayak."

Davis's blood ran cold.  "Don't worry about it, Daddy.  But if you hear anything else, let me know.  I'll take care of it."

"You a good man, Davis.  You make me proud," Daddy said.  "I know I'm an old man and it's prone to make me too mushy, but I ain't too proud to say it.  I love you, son.  God bless you.  God bless you and Danielle."

Davis said quick goodbyes to everyone else.  As he stepped out of the trailer, he spoke to Sandy and Digger.  "You boys been talking about a Kayak?  You know something you need to tell me?"

Sandy scowled.  "I don't care whether you a cop pig or not.  You got no business eavesdropping on us."

Digger tried to be more polite.  "Oh, Deputy, you know us.  We're just a crazy pair of good ol' boys.  We're just thinking about how much fun it might be to kayak out in the swamps, maybe bring a couple of wild young things with us."

Davis cleared his throat, and said as authoritatively as he could, "Now, if you boys know anything about what happened to Kayak Kelly, you need to do the right thing and come forward."

Sandy laughed, sneering, "To you, ol' Uncle Deputy Dawg?  I wouldn't tell you boo for snot.  I wouldn't give you the time of day."

Digger, the redneck diplomat, said, "Sandy's funning you.  Don't you worry, sir.  Whatever we know, you'll know."

Deputy Davis Gorland left his sister's mixed up family.  In the back of his mind he thought, maybe I have something to contribute to one of Dixon County's most baffling cases.

And if he did, would it further blast apart his fragile family?

He might not need to binge watch Breaking Bad tonight after all.  Things might be doing that already.

Lights, Camera, Action! On The Life of a Middle Schooler

Some of the cast and crew holding up a poster of their magnificent achievement, The Life of a Middle Schooler.

We can test them again and again and again, and it means little or nothing.

We can set them free and let them pursue their dreams, and it means everything,

Camden Jewell and Chandler Watson had a dream.  They wanted to do a movie.  A movie that would be done completely by middle schoolers.  A movie that would be about what it was like to be a middle schooler.

They couldn't just do it.  They needed a sponsor.  They needed a teacher to volunteer to sponsor their club.  So many teachers having to give so much of their time to keep up with the pressure of standardized tests, and with the demand of so many other extra curriculars, who could they find who would willingly give up their time for such an enterprise?  Well, they found one.  Ms. Lisa Martin gave generously of her time and resources, and let the middle schoolers follow their dreams.  Over two dozen students did everything.  They wrote it.  They produced and directed it.  They acted it.  They edited it.

They spent many months putting it together, most of the school year.  And I saw the results yesterday afternoon.  A forty five minute movie that was clever, imaginative and fun.  It told an interesting, compelling story that was well written, directed and edited.  The actors came across with clear, distinct personalities, and the non-verbals were very good.  The story was entertaining and funny, but it also contained a serious message about bullying.

My son Benjamin played the second lead.  He was the primary character's best friend, and he was the comic relief.  He played his part with verve and emotion, and just the right amount of smart-alecky sass.  He was at times a scene-stealing ham, a trait that I have no idea whom he picked up from.

I laughed at much of what he and the other students were doing, but I also was kind of teary.  I was overwhelmed at the magic these students were doing, and of seeing my son do something I could only dream about doing when I was young.

This is what inspires learning.  This is what gets you ready for life.  No standardized test in existence can motivate you to learn and grow as a person as much as students being allowed to achieve their own dreams.  Let them put together a movie.  Let them build a robot.  Let them design a car.  Let them write and perform music. Let them run a store.  If learning will help you DO things, you learn so much more than trying to learn for a test designed by people who care so much more about how much money than make off the test than the they do about the students taking it.

So here's to the dream weavers, each and everyone, and to the teachers and parents and community members who help them dream.

Bravo, Film Club!  The Life of a Middle Schooler is a great film, and if you ever get the opportunity to see it, you should.  It's fun and fresh, and an important statement about what's really important in the world of education.

Treat yourself to Laughter and Fun at the Ritz This Weekend!

Well?  We're all gathered together for a wedding!   Tina Jo and Parker appear to have run off, So will somebody else please just step 'n' git married already?  Hmmm?  Any volunteers?

Here in living color are all th' parTicuLars!  This Thursday,Friday and Saturday nights at 8 PM.  This is WACT comedy at it's best!  As one couple who saw it said (paraphrased), "Well, we usually go to the Alhambra in Jacksonville, we didn't realize we had something this good this close!  We need to start coming to WACT!"

As do you all, my friends.  As do you all.

Why, it's a group photo of our cast!  Sitting in the front row are the marvelous Futrelle sisters, who once formed the great Gospel trio, The Sermonettes.  From left to right in the front is my beautiful spouse in the play, Mamie Jackson as Frankie Futrelle Dubberly (who not only has to cope with the stress of her daughter's wedding and news from her doctor, but also a husband who is spending more and more time away from home), Nikki Spivey as Twink Futrelle (the super thrifty gal who is determined that a wedding take place at any cost), and Nadine Borrelli as Honey Raye "Hot Flash" Futrelle.

In the back row is Adeline Wiederman as Patsy Price (the mother-in-law who does NOT her son dragged down to the social class of a Futrelle/Dubberly), Jody Rollins as Justin Waverly (our combination UPS and Preacher man), me as Dub Dubberly, Thomas Unkles as Wiley Hicks (the over-medicated object of Twink's desire to be married), Brittany Peacock doing a magnificent job portraying both of Dub's twin daughters, Tina Jo and Gina Jo. First time thespian Brenda Luke doing a scene stealing turn as the psychic Nelda Lightfoot, and Susan Puthoff as Geneva Musgrove (the wedding coordinator determined to make a mint).

In the very back is our breakout superstar, Darren Council as John Curtis Buntner, Dub's best friend and local law enforcement.  Trust me on this.  He ALONE is worth the price of admission. 

This show is so busy and dynamic, there is even something happening at intermission.  That's when this selfie was taken.  Onstage.  As part of the play.

So please come out and join us, and be prepared to laugh a good number of calories off.  It will be wedding preparations to remember.

Mother of A Weekend and Other Monday Musings

O, what a mother of a weekend, with not one but THREE major events.

First up, we had four great performances of Dearly Beloved at the Ritz Theatre,  We had small audiences, but they were very appreciative, and laughed a good deal.

I had a wardrobe malfunction Saturday night, with one pant leg tucked into my boot, and the other not.  It looked silly, but thankfully fit the character of Dub.  It was a Dub thing to do.  It was just disappointing to me that I did not know that I had done that.  I like to be conscious of every decision I make on the stage.

It has been a great group of actors and crew to work with, and I look forward to this second weekend of performances (Thursday, Friday and Saturday night at 8 PM).  If you are in the area and you have not seen it, you owe yourself the trip to see it.  You will have fun and experience a bellyful of laughs.

Speaking of small but appreciative audiences, the events held at the Studio in conjunction with the Steve Bean Arts Festival at the Okefenokee Heritage Center, were sparsely attended as well.  But there in full force were my friends from the Flying Dragon Arts Center.  They put on a fantastic show, displaying the talents of many of their young thespians.  I am very grateful to the Jeffords family, for their support, and for attending and supporting the other events that took place as well.

I am grateful to all those who read in the Writer's presentation, especially Cody Goode and Julianna Lacefield, for their touching tributes to Steve. Grace K Lee, out 86 year old award winning poet, was wonderful in her poetry readings.  I am grateful to the Barbara Griffin and the Purlie Victorious Players for their awesome presentation of some highlights from their play.  I am grateful to Elizabeth Welch and Crystal Simpson for helping with set up and clean up.

Rem Farr had a great display of his books there, and despite the small turnout, sold at least eight books at the event. I'll be honest.  I was disappointed in our other writers for not making a greater effort to have a presence thee.  We have authors with self-published works, but they did not make it a priority to be there.

I spent an incredible amount of time preparing a chapbook highlighting the variety of posts found on The Strait Line.  It of course, got completely ignored, but I am proud I made the effort anyways.  It was my fault, as I got shy about promoting it or pointing it out or even being anywhere near it (I was real busy the whole time I was there).



--------------------------------

And it was also Mother's Day weekend.  I have to apologize to Alison that we did not do more, that there was so much else competing for our time.  But Benjamin did write her a nice poem, and there was a good family dinner Sunday night, shared with Alison's mother as well.

I thought of my own mother as well, and how much she would have liked to have shared in a weekend like this.

Until next time,

T. M. Strait

Gather Here Starting Thursday Night with Dearly Beloved

Did you love The Dixie Swim Club?  Well, here is another great play written by the same people - enjoy the BIG fun that can only come from watching a play set in Texas!

Join the Sermonettes - Twink, Honey Raye, and Frankie - as they plan a wedding where the bride and groom may or may not show up.

I play the frustrated father of the bride, Dub, who is trying to deal with a wife, Frankie,  who has become obsessed with wedding details, and whose sneaking off to do god knows what is raising suspicions with Frankie.

And if you need additonal motivation to go, South Georgia, absorb this - in the play I, Tom Strait, wear camo.

You heard it right.  Camo.

Don't miss out!!!

Universal Weekend and Other Monday Musings

Riding the tiger at Universal Studios in Orlando!  Benjamin went on his first band trip, and he had a blast!  They performed at Universal Studios, and then spent two fun days at their theme parks.  Alison went with him, and I stayed behind with theater responsibilities, and taking care of pets.

Benjamin is now ready to defend our castle!  A trip to Medieval Times was a highlight of his trip, and the one part that made Daddy jealous, as I have always wanted to go to one.  They had a great time, but Alison warned me, if we ever do go again, that I will have to BYOK (Bring Your Own Ketchup).

Benjamin is older now (14) and has managed the courage to go on more intense rides.  Ok...wait...that one isn't one of them....

.....this one is.  And yes, he did go on it.  And he survived.

Benjamin met with Dr. Emmett Brown near the Delorean.  Dr. Brown appears to be younger than I remember him, but that may be just be a younger version of himself that has gone Back to the Future to warn his older version that 2015 was not the way it was when Marty McFly first visited it.  Great Scott!  What happened to the flying cars?  Benjamin explained that the guy who was supposed to win the election in 2000 that would lead to flying cars powered by garbage, had the election stolen from him.  Dr. Brown said he was in the right state, but the wrong time, and left in the Delorean headed for a Senior Center in West Palm Beach, circa November 2000.

Me?  I stayed behind.  I did go to the great new market at the Heritage Center.  It will be every first Saturday of the year.  Had a great time, and socialized with about as many people as I ever had in my life before.  Special props to Cody Goode, Rob Stewart and Julianna Lacefield whom later went to lunch with Rob and Julie, and then went to Rob's house where all four of us played a legendary round of Old Maid.

Saturday was rounded out by watching my favorite young actress, Emily Beck, daughter of my good friend Kimberly, perform at the Flying Dragon as Annie.  It was a great show and Emily was very impressive,  and I appreciated seeing all the amazing things that Flying Dragon has done to renovate their theater.  You need to check them out in the near future!  (No Delorean needed).

Bailin' at the Honey Dew

"Here ya are, Mr. Hollander!  Unsweetened ice tea with extra lemon!" Franny set the glass down in front of Gariton. She smiled faintly, her eyes reflecting a sympathetic commiseration as to what he was going through.

Gariton saw the kindness in Franny's eyes.  He'd hadn't seen her much outside the Honey Dew, but what he knew of her she seemed like an exceptionally caring person.  It was a nice change from the many that seemed to look at him with suspicion, like his predicament confirmed their biases towards him.  'Damn no good Yankee!  What in the world had a pretty girl like Christie Delco ever seen in him, anyway? No wonder she took up with that Rodney Strickland!  He was clearly three times the man that puny Yankee would ever be!'  - at least that's what he thought was going through their heads.

But not Franny.  He sensed no such thoughts coming from her.  He wasn't sure he remembered to ask for extra lemons, but she must have brought them based on his prior orders.  He wanted to say something to her, but all that came out was, "Thank you."

"You want to place an order now, Mr. Hollander?  Let me just tell you, Grace made the chicken salad special herself just this morning, and it is extra good today."  Franny knew what turned her customer's heads, and that Gariton frequently ordered the chicken salad.

"Not this moment, Franny.  Maybe in just a little bit."  He didn't want to start eating until he knew why he was asked to come here.

"Sure thing, Mr. Hollander.  I'll check back with you in a little bit."  Franny left to go handle a nearby table, where Doc Stratton, the chiropractor, was having a late lunch with Larry Luck.  They both looked over at Gariton as if he was a heathen that needed to go to the inquisition.  Based on the recent news, probably most of Crowley thought he was in jail, halfway to being strung up.

He scrunched some Equal into his tea, squeezed a couple of the lemons mixed it up, and then took a healthy sip.  It felt real good going down, soothing and surprisingly effective at breaking some of his stress.  If everything tasted better, and all his senses were sharpened from just three days in the hoosegow, he could hardly imagine what things might be like after years.  He prayed he would never have to find out.

As he set his glass down, she came in.  There was the usual bright bounce in her step, and she certainly cut a sexy figure in her little sun dress, low cut and defiantly short given the somewhat crisp early February weather.  But despite her attitude and dress, this was not the same Christie.  She wore sunglasses, and when she sat down across from him and took them off, he could see the dark circles under her eyes.  No amount of makeup could cover up the stress she felt.

He looked at her and struggled to find some semblance of the woman he fell in love with.  Why did he not see that her wandering spirit would lead her to other men?  How could he not tell that was part of her character?

She began without prelude or introduction.  That was so much like her.  Get right to the right of it.  "I suppose you're wondering why I bothered to bail you out."

Gariton shrugged.  "I admit.  The thought did cross my mind, but then I gave up trying to figure it out.  I mean, I'm not really doing a good job of figuring out what you're thinking, am I?"

Franny came by and asked Christie what she might want to drink.  "Honey, you don't serve nothing I want."  Franny just nodded and turned away.  Gariton may have been imagining things, but he did not see the bright sympathy she was emanating earlier.  "Just bring me some water, sugar.  That will be fine."

"You want sugar water?" Franny asked, hiding her sarcasm with a serious look.

"Well, you do have a bit of a snap to you after all, don't you?  No.  Plain water is fine.  Don't even bother with the ice."

"Of course, Mrs. Hollander, right away", she said, stressing the Mrs. Hollander part.  Gariton noticed Franny turn her head as someone new came in, and she just started beaming, big and bright.  A boy came in, someone Gariton had seen before, but whose name he just couldn't recall.

"What's the name of the young man who just came in, Franny?" Gariton asked.  "You seem quite happy to see him."

Franny sputtered, "T-that's Adam Garnett.  I t-think he might be my, uh, b-boyfriend."

Young love, Gariton thought.  Enjoy it while it lasts, Franny.

After Franny left, Christie returned to their conversation.  "I know you don't think of me as a good wife.  I know it's difficult for me to fill that role.  But I do care for you, Gariton.  I don't want to see you hurt."

"That is sweet of you, dear.  But aren't you worried your setting loose your lover's killer?"

Christie snorted a giggle.  "Hell, I'm not stupid.  You're no killer, Gariton.  You didn't kill Rondy, any more than I did."

"Really, Christie?  It was your gun.  It had your fingerprints on it."  He stared at her, coldly, all his warmth towards her having fled after he saw her astraddle Rondy.

"Here I am giving you credit for not believing you could be the killer, and you can't return the same courtesy to me?  You have a lot of nerve."

"That's right.  I do.  How do know anymore what you're capable of or not?"

Franny brought Christie her water, and then asked if they were ready to order.  Christie refused anything, but Gariton took Franny's recommendation and ordered the chicken salad plate.  "Look, Gariton. Yes, I love men.  Lots of men.  I like to cheat.  I like to roam.  But that does not make me a killer."

Gariton saw the pain and hurt in her eyes.  He didn't recall ever seeing her so lost.  Well, except for hat time when those guys in college tried to rape her.  To this day, he didn't know what possessed to those big guys on, but he was glad he did.  Even with all the pain he was going through not, that is something he would never change. "I'm sorry, Christine.  I didn't mean that.  I know you wouldn't do that.  But that still leaves with a problem.  Somebody did, and we need to find out."

Christie got angry, her hands bunching into little fists.  "No, you don't, Gariton.  You don't need to do any such damn thing.  Let Sheriff Steel take care of that."

Gariton started to say something, but he thought better of it.  He would like to tell her that Steel was following some leads he gave him, and that his arrest was mostly a cover to get others to more freely talk to the Sheriff.  He didn't mind being out of jail, but the bail money Christie put up was a bit of a surprise in their planning.  It actually was going to be beneficial in that he could be here in town for the Sheriff to consult, instead of being dragged off to a Ware County jail.

"Look, Gariton.  I'm hiring you the best damn criminal lawyer in the state, a Donald Hedge from up Atlanta way.  All you have to do is let him take care of you, and you drop any investigation nonsense of your own.  You don't need to do anything.  You for damn sure don't need to help that Sheriff.  Just stick your nose out of everyone's business, and everything will be fine."

A light went on in Gariton's head.  "You know something, don't you?  I mean, yes, you didn't do it, and maybe you don't know who did it, but you know something, don't you?"

Christie grabbed his hand, and stared at him with a withering intensity.  "Leave it alone, Gariton.  I mean it.  Tell me what you want from me.  You want to stay married?  I can do that.  I can't promise to stay faithful, but I can still make you pretty damn happy, just like I did until you knew.  You want a divorce?  I can set you up with enough cash in the settlement so you'll never have to work again."

"What do you mean?  You have money, but not that kind of money.  Would Daddy Delco give you that kind of money?  Why?  I mean, I know he dotes on you, but why?  Why would he do that?  Unless..."

She squeezed his hand hard.  "Don't go there.  Don't you dare!"

He pulled his hand away from her.  "Don't touch me.  Don't touch me ever again."

He got up quickly.  He had had enough. Franny was bringing over his chicken salad.  He quickly dug out a twenty and handed it to Franny.  "I'm sorry, Franny.  I can't abide staying here a second longer.  Box it and refrigerate it for me, and bring to me as you close.  I'll be at the accounting firm.  And please, keep the change."

Gariton turned to leave, but Christie intercepted him.  "Please, Gariton.  I don't want to see you hurt."

"And keep your Atlanta lawyer too."

"Gariton, don't be stupid.  There isn't anyone around here who can help you."

"I'll be fine.  I'm already talking to Ramona Adams."

That threw off Christie, but not enough to let Gariton go.  "The black lady?  What are you, crazy?  She's just a legal secretary!"

"She's just shy of being a paralegal, and besides, she's damn smart, one of the smartest people I know."  He pulled away again, and she followed him out.

"Please, Gariton," she pleaded. "I'm scared.  I don't want to see myself hurt, either."

And there it was.  The truth of it.  So many were at risk, until somebody could put a stop to it.  Until somebody had the stones to call them out.  And it was just him; he didn't know he could do it. 

He was afraid for himself.  He was afraid for Christie.  But he did not want to live in fear.  And with the secret help of Sheriff Steel, and the senior partner of Cooper & Strickland, Thomas Cooper, maybe, just maybe, they could come out of this all right.