Some say all press is good press. I can assure you that I am not one of those people.
I’m old enough to remember Mick Righteous when he was just starting. There was a time when he was a true musician, not the doped-up mess of a human found dead on our beautiful river banks under what best can be described as shady circumstances.
So, admittedly, I greeted Sheriff Paul with less than my usual amount of … well … couth when he stopped by this morning for, oh I don’t know, the FOURTH round of his incessant questioning.
“You think my job’s been easy? Do you think having a cop in my storefront two days a week is how I want to welcome people to this town? This is a Chamber of Commerce, Paul, not the diner! I am - we are - of the public. I need to be welcoming and calm, not edgy and paranoid. I CANNOT have a cop sitting in front of me every day, do you understand, PAUL?”
Paul shifted in his seat. “I guess this isn’t, well, ideal for you right now …”
I could feel the heat rise up through my cheeks. “You think? You try selling a town where body parts are turning up right and left … and now Mick? One of the most famous men in the world? Every call I get … ‘hello? Yeah, I’d like to hear more about Mick Righteous. I’m planning a visit and I’d like to know exactly where he died.’ … They want to camp there! … Seriously, Paul! This is what we’re going to be known for FOR-EVER.”
Paul slumped in his seat as he removed his hat. “We’re doing the best we can ma’am. We’re just trying to keep tabs on all that we can so that …”
“So that WHAT?” I made the conscious decision to pace in front of him. Paul didn’t know how to handle tough women - not the least of which being his own daughter - but most especially women with three-inch heels and four-inch nails. I lit a cigarette. “So you can say you’re earning your taxpayer-supported salary? I mean, imagine we HAD eliminated the village police. Then you’d be it … and I’m thinking that ain’t much!”
Paul stood up, demoralized, and placed his hat back on his head. “We just ask that if you hear anything new, you let us know.” And he walked out.
Oh, I’d heard plenty, but I sure as hell wasn’t sharing it with him. Frankly, I’m not sure I’d share it with anyone.
Oh, there’s more to that story. Of this I am certain.
And she is going to pay.