Slow Dance in Purgatory

"What the hell...?" The deputy muttered to himself.

"Parley?" Chief Bailey asked expectantly. Parley Pratt was a brand-new policeman, still wet behind the ears and easily impressed and distracted.

“Uh... yeah....Chief! We’ve got Dolly Kinross out there. She’s insisting on seeing her boys. Doc already left with Billy. Should I send her along after him?”

“What’d you tell her, Parley?” The chief leveled a look at his young deputy.

“Nothin’ Chief. I didn’t know what to tell her!” The deputy looked awkwardly at the mayor and then down at his feet.

“Good man. Let me handle it. I want every officer scouring this school – hell, this whole damn town for Johnny Kinross. Divide people up, and let’s get a search going. Have Deputy Johnson tell that crowd out there that we have reason to believe that Johnny Kinross is in need of medical attention and wanted for questioning, and if anyone sees him or is contacted by him to immediately turn him over to us. And for heaven’s sake, send ‘em all home.

“Yes sir.” The deputy turned to carry out his orders.

“Oh, and Parley? Send Dolly Kinross in here before you talk to the crowd, all right? That poor woman should hear the news from me before she hears it from someone else.”

Silence descended on the room when the deputy exited in an official rush. The mayor cleared his throat uncomfortably and slid his arm around his wife’s plump shoulders.

“If you don’t need us any further, Chief Bailey, Mrs. Carlton and I will just take Roger on home now.”

The chief eyed the mayor, noticing how he’d started shifting from one foot to the other and wondering why Mrs. Carlton suddenly appeared to have swallowed a lemon whole. She had stepped out from beneath her husband’s arm and instead was clinging to her son. Roger Carlton had grown very still, and his mouth was turned down in a thin scowl.

“Well, maybe that’s better, Mayor. I don’t suppose Mrs. Kinross is gonna want an audience when I break the news, although she’s gonna want some answers. I know I would sure like some. I'll be by, Roger.” His steady gaze bore a hole into Roger Carlton, who squirmed, knowing the chief wasn't through with him.

Johnny sunk down on his haunches next to the door. His mother was here. Would she be able to see him? What was she going to do now? The mayor sure as hell wouldn’t take care of her.

Dolly Kinross flew through the door seconds later. She wore a white dress with big red polka dots splashed all over it and red high heels with bows on the toes. Her blond hair was curled and pinned carefully, and if you hadn’t seen her face you would think she was all dressed up for a fancy party or a night out with a special man. But her smeared lipstick and the black lines of mascara running down her cheeks told a different story. Dolly Kinross was a beautiful woman and looked ten years younger than her actual age of 38, but after this night that would change.

Johnny stood and rushed to embrace her, but he was suddenly afraid. She had walked right by him. She couldn't see him. What would happen if he tried to touch her? Unwilling to contemplate the growing realization that something was very wrong with him, he stood as close to his mother as he could and breathed in the Chanel No. 5 that she loved and couldn’t afford. He wondered if the mayor had bought it for her. Dolly didn’t look at Johnny at all but faced the chief, her arms wrapped around her waist, her eyes bouncing from Mayor Carlton to the blood in the center of the floor and back to Chief Bailey.

“Where are my sons, Chief Bailey? People are saying they got in some trouble and that they were in here. Deputy Parley said the mayor’s son was with them.” Dolly Kinross swung her gaze to Roger hopefully, as if his mortality was proof that her own sons would materialize shortly.

Chief Bailey groaned inwardly at the ineptness of his young deputy. Parley couldn’t resist a pretty face and had spilled more than he’ had let on. Apparently, neither could the mayor, if his wife’s hostility and his own discomfort were any indication. This thing was getting messier by the second.

“The mayor and his family were just leaving, Ms. Kinross.” The chief tried to step between Dolly Kinross and the Carltons, but a frisson of electricity shot up his left arm and he gasped, wondering if he was having a heart attack. He would rather that, then tell Ms. Kinross that her youngest son was dead and her older son most likely severely wounded and currently unaccounted for.

Mayor Carlton herded his wife and son through the front doors. Chief Bailey thought he saw flashbulbs go off. Leave it to old Al Tibson, owner of the Honeyville Crier, to be there with his great, big, flashing camera all set up to capture the lurid details. He would let Mayor Carlton deal with that. It would serve the philandering peacock right. What the dickens was pretty Dolly Kinross doing with Mayor Carlton, anyway?

“Chief?” Dolly Kinross cleared her throat nervously and suppressed a sob that was threatening to break free. “Whose blood is that?”