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Charade
Forty

Forty

No matter how you cut it, that man Turner rubbed Chief Lamar the wrong way.

It was one thing to have some deep security event occurring in his district, but it was something completely different to be told to make yourself scarce with a loosely veiled threat.

Lamar ran his hand up the neck of the beer bottle sitting on his kitchen table, then idly turned the bottle as he tried to forget the humiliation of being ordered about by that government martinet.

His wife was asleep. Thank God. Lamar did not think he could stand her attempts to calm him, however well-intentioned she had been. Sometimes a man just needed to be mad.

Maybe he should cruise by the house and see if it was still in one piece.

It was a wonderful idea, but one of Turner’s security men might place a bullet in the side of his cruiser. If he was going to tempt fate, then why not drive up to the house and make an unscheduled visit?

The direct approach had its appeal.

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The telephone rang. Lamar picked it up from the table and pressed the talk button. The woman on the other end was talking before he could get the receiver to his ear.

“Sylvia, I’m off tonight,” he cut the woman off. Yeah, sitting at home drinking beer and moping, he added in his mind. “Call Maynard.”

“I did, Sheriff. He said to call you.” Sylvia sounded anxious.

Sighing, Lamar said. “Okay, I give in. What is so important?”

“What?” Her voice rang in a tone that made Lamar pull the phone from his ear with a wince. “When are you going to learn to watch the evening news or listen to a radio? It was on the ten o’clock news.”

“Is this going to be a root canal or just a straight shot to the head?” Sometimes the dispatcher annoyed the hell out of Lamar.

“Maynard is out chasing UFOs,” was her curt reply.

“You have got to be shitting me.

“I want a raise. If you are going to talk to me like that, I deserve a raise.”

“Sorry,” Lamar stared out the window and thought.

There could be no coincidence Turner had made a threat. Then a UFO, probably a stealth fighter or something like that, seen over the lake.

“Which way was it heading?”

“Straight at us.”

“Ah, damn. Tell Maynard to come back to the station. It is a hoax. I’ll tell him all about it tomorrow.”

“It’s not real?”

She sounded disappointed. In a town where nothing much ever happened, this was a year’s supply of fun. Lamar doubted he come up with a suitable answer for the night’s activities, but at least it was an excuse to visit Turner.

“Yeah, tell everyone to go home and get some sleep.”

“Yes, Chief,” was the disappointed reply.