Constance thanked the judge and rushed Edna and her mother out of the room before Detective Courter could say another word. They went outside and down the courthouse steps, where they were set upon by a small platoon of reporters who’d been lounging there, smoking cigarettes and slapping their notebooks against their legs, idly watching both the courthouse and the jail next door for any sign of an arrest, an arraignment, or any other small scandal they might write up in time for the morning edition.
Every last man jumped to attention when he saw the three of them. The reporters liked nothing better than to put Constance’s name in a headline, especially in connection with a girl in trouble. It gave her a great deal of pleasure to announce that they’d have to look elsewhere to fill tomorrow’s papers.
“Just a mother who misplaced her daughter’s new address,” she told them, giving Edna’s elbow a squeeze. “You couldn’t even get a paragraph out of it.” That was enough to make them wander off.
Constance was of the opinion that Edna was owed an automobile ride back to Pompton Lakes by the Paterson policeman who’d brought her there, and said so, but Edna insisted on taking the train. “I’d rather not be seen again with the police, miss,” she said.
Constance let her go, but not before extracting a promise that she’d visit her mother of a Sunday now and then. Edna allowed her mother to clutch her briefly and awkwardly, then she ran off to the station. Her coat flapped behind her, and the weak winter sunlight cast a little amber into her hair. Constance saw something fine and determined in the girl, and was glad to see her go free.
Her mother watched her go, too. The lines in her face fell into hardened resignation.
“Mrs. Heustis,” Constance said, after Edna rounded the corner out of sight, “you know you must call on us if you ever believe the law’s been broken. But your girl’s done nothing wrong. Does her father even know you reported her?”
She shook her head and looked away. “He encouraged her. She’s our only girl, and he told her how to go off and find work just like her brothers did.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that,” Constance said.
“They all want to do something for the war.”
At last Constance had come to the heart of it. Her boys were eager to go to France, and now she was losing her daughter, too. She opened her mouth to answer and just then heard Sheriff Heath calling for her from the side entrance to the jail.
“We all want to do our part,” she said quickly. “But she hasn’t gone far. You could go up and pay her a visit, too, you know. Bring her a little something from home.”
Mrs. Heustis didn’t look satisfied with that, but she nodded and turned toward the train station. As she left, Constance couldn’t help but wonder if she’d treated her too harshly. Her daughter was leaving her behind. It would happen to Constance, too, someday. But she’d be more dignified about it.
Wouldn’t she?
8
THERE WAS A KIND of buoyancy about Sheriff Heath as he strode across the frozen lawn to meet Constance, but she couldn’t guess as to its cause. He saw the reporters watching from the courthouse steps and slowed to a walk. When they met, he nodded at the departing figure of Monvilla Heustis.
“Well, Deputy? Did things go your way this morning?”
“Of course they did. It was nothing but a mother who didn’t want her daughter thinking for herself.”
“That’s not a matter for the law.”
“Judge Seufert agreed, so we sent them both home.” Constance was surprised that her scheme had worked as well as it did. It had been almost too easy to get Edna released. Was this really all it took?
“Well, it’s a fine way for one of my deputies to spend the morning,” the sheriff said, “but it’s better than keeping a young lady in jail who has no cause to be there. I don’t suppose the prosecutor’s office had anything good to say about it.”
“No, but I saved us all needless work. They should give me a medal.”
Sheriff Heath was just standing there, looking at her oddly.
“What is it?”
He rummaged around in his coat pocket and pulled out something folded in brown paper. “This came for you.”
There was no mark on the package. She took it from him and turned it over. “What do you mean, it came for me? What is it?” After all the strange letters she’d received, she was suspicious of packages.
He shrugged and cast his eyes up and over to the spire atop the courthouse dome. “Don’t open it if you don’t want it.”
That’s when she felt the metal point under the paper.
“It couldn’t be.” She unwrapped it and let it drop into her hand.
There it was. She had her badge at last.
The sheriff didn’t go in for eagles or stars. All of his men wore a plain shield with the words “Bergen Co.” engraved along the top, and “Sheriff’s Deputy” at the bottom. In the center was the county seal, which was impossible to make out at such a small size but consisted of an Indian and a Pilgrim shaking hands under the talons of an eagle in flight. It was heavier than Constance thought it would be, and strangely warm, from having been in the sheriff’s pocket.
Hers wasn’t silver like the others. “This isn’t gold, is it?” she said, catching his eye for the first time since he’d handed it to her. It occurred to her that he must have come straight from the jeweler’s. The metal shone cleanly, like it had never been touched.
The sheriff looked embarrassed over the extravagance and said, “It’s only plated in gold. It’ll rub off the first time you get into a scuffle.”
“What will Norma say when she sees me in a gold badge?” She looked down for a place to pin it.
The sheriff fumbled with his gloves and took it from her. There is nothing more awkward than having a man pin something on a woman’s coat, but occasions do call for it and she stood with her hands at her sides and let him. He slid the clasp together and lifted his head and there they were, staring evenly at each other.
“Well, Deputy Kopp,” he said, clearing his throat. “I suppose?—”
But he never got to finish, because the reporters spotted them.
“Miss Kopp!” called a skinny young man, running up behind her. “Is that a badge or a corsage?”
“Have you the backing of the Freeholders on this one, Bob?” asked another, although he must have already known the answer. Sheriff Heath never had the backing of the Board of Freeholders on anything.
“What exactly are the duties of a lady deputy?” asked a third, panting as he tried to keep up with the other two without turning loose of his cigar. “Has she the authority to arrest a man? Will she go on patrol alone or will she require an escort? Have you issued her a gun and handcuffs as well?”