Page 7 of Chasing Fireflies

“I called your father yesterday,” Drew says once we get into the car. The smell of leather and carpet cleaner fills my nose, and the inside reminds me of my dad and the times I rode around with him before I got my own car. I push those thoughts aside and look over at the chief.

“Oh, yeah?” I ask, thinking he probably ran my tag when he pulled me over.

“Yeah, I ran your plate yesterday.”

Bingo.

“No offense. Just had to do a background check.”

“None taken,” I reply, taking a sip from my coffee cup, thinking Anne was right. This is some damn good coffee.

He nods. “Your father said he hasn’t spoken to you in a good while.” I see him cut his eyes to me.

I clear my throat. “Last Christmas to be exact,” I say, resting my cup on my knee. “My father and I didn’t see eye to eye about some things.” I look out the window.

“I see,” he says, stopping at a red light. “Well, I don’t want to get into your business. He confirmed you working for him and put in a good word for you.”

“He did, did he?” I ask, a little shocked.

“You seem surprised?” Drew says.

“I guess I am. Didn’t have too many nice words for me the last time we spoke, so…”

The chief nods. “Well, I don’t see any reason why I can’t hire you. So if you want the job, it’s yours.”

“I appreciate that.”

“Now, this is a small town, and in small towns you get to know people well. You get to know the troublemakers and the couples who like to fight, the drunks and the crazy teenagers who have nothing better to do but ride around on the weekends drinking and driving. We mostly let people go with a warning. Most don’t mean no harm anyway,” he says, pressing the gas and heading straight.

“That there is Berry Hunt’s barber shop. Most of the men get their beards trimmed up and hair cut there.” He points to the small shop, and I look as we ride by. “So if you want to get yours trimmed up, that’s the place to go.” I run a hand over my short beard and look when he points farther down. “Down there is Banner’s Bar. It’s where all the locals hang out. If you want to get to know people, that’ll be a good place to do it. That’s Billy’s Barbeque Pit. He cooks the best barbeque ribs you’ll ever taste. Won a few out-of-state cooking competitions, too.” He grins.

He points again. “That’s where everyone does their grocery shopping, and most of the food is farm fresh. We got a good bit of farmers in this town, and they sell their produce and meat to Sally, the lady who owns the store.”

“Yeah, the wife and I went in yesterday,” I tell him.

He nods. “There’s a Wal-Mart a few miles from here.” He points toward the direction of the main highway. “And a bigger grocery store with a shopping mall and all. We aren’t totally secluded.” He grins again. “But like I said, it’s a small town and we like to help each other by shopping locally. We got a few clothing stores on Third Street to keep the ladies happy and a nail salon and all that. I’m sure your wife will like them just fine. Most of the other women do.” He smirks as he turns onto Fourth Street. “That’s where they do all their gossiping, too.” I laugh. “There’s a small theater and a steakhouse if you want to take your wife out.”

“Let me guess, best steaks in town?” I ask with a grin.

“See, you’re getting the idea.” He winks. “So, anyway, it’s pretty quiet around here. We mainly just make sure it stays that way.”

“Understood,” I say as I take another sip of my coffee. I clear my throat as the chief turns onto the road that takes us back to the office.

*

“Well, how was the ride?” Anne asks when we walk back into the office.

“Just showed him around the town a bit,” Drew says.

“You didn’t blink, did you?” She laughs, looking over at me. I smile back.

“I’m used to small towns. My wife and I grew up about thirty minutes from here.”

“Well, good, because you know with small towns come gossip, and everybody knows everybody, and everybody knows everybody’s business. Like that saying goes, ‘Everybody dies famous in a small town.’ And that’s the damn truth,” she says, moving around her desk. “But I love this place, and most of the people are good. It’s hard to find good people with a world gone to shit.”

“Don’t go into your the-world-is-a-bad-place talk, Anne. We don’t want to run the boy off already with your yapping.”

Anne laughs and pats my arm. “Sorry, son. I just get a little carried away, but it’s a damn shame you can’t turn on the news without hearing about another school shooting or a nut job going into one of those dance places and killing a bunch of innocent people. Anyway, just grinds my gears, is all. I’ve got your paperwork printed out. You just take it home with you,” she says, handing me a folder. “Is your wife looking for any work?” she asks. “I know Maci needs some help down at the library a few times a week. It’s part-time, but it’ll give her something to do. That is, if she wants something to do.”

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