Jeff Schim drifted into the office somewhat perplexed to find Cherry waiting. News of the sheriff's drunken presence at Garrapy's had reached the deputy but he hadn't heard the finer details. It stood out, as for Cherry's many faults, an overfondness for liquor wasn't one. If anything, he expected him back at Garrapy's, sleeping off his hangover. He certainly didn't expect Cherry to have an announcement upon spying his partner. "Thought I should let you know Amanda picked me up last night." Schim stared. "Before you hear it from someone else and start thinkin' the worst."

"I know about you and Amanda," said Schim. There was nothing scandalous about old friends watching out for each other. He sometimes wish Amanda could be harsher in her concern for the sheriff. Together, they might have made a difference in his behavior. "And you know I don't care what folks say."

"Yeah, but you didn't know she came by last night, did you? I don't want us at odds over any misunderstandin'." Being at odds for other reasons was part of the daily routine.

"No," said Schim. "I didn't know."

"I thought not," Then, "Also, I'm not supposed to say anythin' about her givin' me insight into how to work this Pieth ring thing in my advantage. "

Schim rolled his eyes and situated on the corner stool. "And, naturally, you've not kept your word."

"Tellin' you is different. You're her husband." The sheriff collected his hat from the desk, standing just as Schim sat. "Come on."

Schim stayed put. "Where are we goin'?"

"You're takin' me to see Lacey Tate's body."

"We went over this yesterday," said Schim. "You aren't goin' to do her any justice."

"Amanda's all right with me takin' Lacey's ring," insisted Cherry. "She tells me Levi Asper's lookin' for her brother. Says he's just as likely to suspect him of any wrongdoing."

"Amanda," glowered Schim, "ain't got any idea that Lacey Tate's de-" He stopped mid-sentence. "Wait, why is Levi Asper lookin' for Herman Tate?"

Cherry shrugged. "I don't know."

"We're also lookin' for Herman, you remember."

Cherry's confusion was evident. "Are we?"

"Yes," glowered Schim. "Because you declared he was the one who killed his sister."

"Yeah, if I follow up on that."

Schim hopped up and waved a finger in Cherry's face. "This. This right here. This is why I'm not going to take you to Lacey's body."

"Jeff, your wife is supportive--"

"Leave my wife out of it," snapped Schim. "And sit back down."

Cherry snorted. "Don't be like that."

"You've known Lacey Tate is dead for over a week..."

"She's sick," insisted Cherry. "You can ask anyone at the house."

"...I told you she's dead and you've done nothin' about it..."

"I haven't seen it for myself..."

"...and now you're roping my wife into your scheme to loot her corpse..."

Cherry waved a hand. "No, no. I didn't rope Amanda into anythin'. I got her approval. She's keepin' out of it."

"Sit down," said Schim, dropping any formality. "Ewald."

Begrudgingly, Cherry did as he was told, making a point to groan with annoyance. "Yep. Here I am, sittin'."

Schim moved in front of the desk and slapped his palms down. "You might be shit at this job, but I'll be damned if I let you keep pushin' this off." Cherry couldn't help keep the snicker off his lips. The deputy glared. "What did Amanda say about Levi Asper and Herman Tate?"

"Nothin'. Asper's lookin' for him."

"Why?"

"Ask her," jeered Cherry maliciously. "She cleans up the place for 'em. Probably somethin' she overheard."

Schim refused the reaction the sheriff sought. "He thinks Herman took Lindsey's ring?"

"Not yet, he doesn't," said Cherry.

Schim chewed on his thumbnail and paced. Cherry settled in and waited. When Schim got to this point, it was best to let him vent. If the sheriff allowed the deputy this much, maybe he'd relent and indicate the location of Lacey's remains. "If he doesn't know Lacey is dead and he isn't after the ring, what possible business does he have with Herman Tate?"

Cherry threw out, "Rancher business?"It seemed unlikely. The Asper ranch kept cattle and the Tate ranch kept sheep. They dwelt in two different fields, figuratively and literally.

Schim considered. "Since his daddy's death, Herman is in charge of the Tate ranch. That could be it."

"Old man Tate and old man Asper had their differences, didn't then?" Cherry scratched his head. "Like what about that thing with the bear?"

"No," corrected Schim. "That was Tate and Father Spiegelman. He rescued him. They have that weird family promise/bond that they always mentioned for some reason."

"Right, right." Cherry reconsidered. "That thing with the land office?"

Schim tilted his head. "What thing with the land office?"

"The thing with the stream and the land office? You don't remember any of this?"

"No."

Cherry scratched the stubble on his chin. "Somethin' about the water the Asper ranch gets goin' through the Tate lands first and their sheep fouling it up before the cattle get a chance at it. Old man Asper was keen to say Tate was posinin' his herd and Tate argued that the state of the water don't much matter to cows."

"Oh." Why had it not occurred to him before? Schim said, "What you mean is that the Aspers would just as soon have the Tate land so they don't have to worry about the contamination and without having to shell out big money on an alternative source."

Cherry gave him a surprised look. "Did I say that?"

"You would have," remarked Schim. "If you were better at your job."

Cherry scoffed. "That's it, then? Can we go get the ring now?"

"It's a theory," said Schim. "And you know the thing about theories, Sheriff?" He leaned close. "You have to confirm them."

"Which is why I make a habit to avoid 'em," said Cherry flatly. Schim withdrew with a sigh.

"Truly, a godawful sheriff."

Cherry crossed his arms and set them on the desktop. "Look, Jeff. Let's say you're right, yeah? Not that I got any intention on followin' this through, but what happens next? So Levi wants the Tate ranch. That's not illegal. And he hasn't found Herman. Are we offerin' to locate him? Because I don't care about Herman's present location..."

"You don't think learnin' what happened to Herman would help solve what happened to Lacey?"

"You tell me," challenged Cherry. "You saw her. Was Herman around?"

Schim thought back. "No, only Lacey."

"Then it sounds to me that Herman murdered her and dumped the body."

"And where is Herman now? You see what comes with that?"

Cherry threw his hands up. "Skippin' town! Like I keep sayin'!"

"You keep sayin' and sayin' but you've done nothin' about it!" shouted Schim. "And what about this train robbery? Were you plannin' on doin' anythin' about that or is grave robbin' at the top of your priorities?!"

Cherry didn't have a smart retort. He glanced away. "I'm still workin' out how I want to handle that. What have you heard about it?"

Schim shook his head disparaginly. "What haven't I heard? That it was hit by bandits? That the sheriff approached the matter with the same half-assed approach as always? That no one's got any faith in you?" Again, he approached the desk. "I can't stick up for you anymore. All I can do is sit and listen as they dismantle your character."

"Well," said Cherry. "I don't care what they think about me."

"Good," said Schim. "It ain't flatterin'."

The men remained quiet for a time. Then Cherry cleared his throat. "I got a thought on Herman Tate."

"Is that so?" replied Schim.

"Let's make a bargain," continued Cherry. "I ask around on Herman and you show me where Lacey is."

"You ask about Herman first," came the response immediately and firmly.

"Jeff, I need time to think up a new angle. I can't rightly start demandin' answers out of Levi Asper and you know what they'll say at the Tate house."

"Lacey Tate ain't goin' nowhere. She can wait."

Cherry pushed, "What if a coyote comes by and drags her off?"

"It's been how many days?" wonder Schim idly aloud. "Perhaps it's too late already, Sheriff."

"Who the hell else am I supposed to ask about Herman? He's been out east!"

Schim acted as though he didn't hear.

Cherry was struck by epiphany. "Okay, I got it. This is a long shot..."

"But?"

"Father Spiegelman," proposed Cherry.

That was a long shot. "The preacher? Why him?"

"Why not him? The Tates are close with him. We were just talkin' about the bear and the promise."

Schim was not convinced. "Why would the preacher know anythin' about where Herman ran off to? If he killed his sister, like you say, you think he'd run to the church for forgiveness? Why wouldn't he high tail it out of Brody's Cross?"

Cherry beamed. "Give me some credit, Jeff. It's an original angle. Not somethin' anyone else would have thought of. Right?"

"Levi Asper and Father Spiegelman have had their disagreements," conceded the deputy. "I highly doubt Asper's been by to ask after him."

"What about it, Jeff?" Cherry prodded. "We go talk to Father Spiegelman and then you give up Lacey's body?"

Schim wasn't going along easy. "You have to properly question him. Thoroughly. Not like at the Tate place."

Cherry groaned. "He probably doesn't know anythin'." A look from Schim. "...but maybe he does."

"I'll be the judge of that," said Schim.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

That was why Sheriff Cherry hitched a ride on Goldie out from Brody's Cross and into the desolate, dusty wasteland that led to Father Spiegelman's church. Goldie's unique trot did little to lessen the tedium of the journey. Four miles seemed four miles too far, especially when Cherry took note of the dark clouds rolling in.

"It's gonna rain," he remarked to Schim.

"It is," said the deputy.

With any luck, Cherry hoped the holy man would have something mundane to say about Herman Tate. Something as benign as 'I noticed he bought a new hat' or 'I remember when Herman was only knee high'. The sheriff was plotting how to spin the smallest tidbit into justification for Lacey's body as he dismounted and hitched up outside the shoddy structure. He was still plotting as he approached the steps and was intercepted by Spiegelman.

"My child," said the preacher, looking as astere as he always did. "What brings you here?"

Cherry laughed. "'My child'? That's a new one, Father." it had been a long time since Father Spiegelman had addressed him that way. There was a distant rumble. Cherry took a look at the sky. "I got somethin' I need to ask you, but do you think we could do it inside? It's gonna start spittin' any second."

"You can feel it in the air," Schim added. "There's thunder comin'."

"Yes," agreed the preacher. "It would be unfortunate."

Cherry stared. Schim stared. The preacher did not move to allow entry. Instead peered around and took stock of the surroundings. "Father?" inquired Cherry. "Are we goin' inside or...?"

"Anyone else?" asked the preacher. Schim looked at Cherry. Cherry looked at Schim. It was a curious question.

Cherry put forth, "Are you expectin' someone else?"

"Are you?"

Again, the lawmen looked at each other. "What?" said Schim.

"Father, are you feelin' all right?" asked Cherry with a slight chuckle.

The preacher smiled disarmingly. "That is a fair question. Why don't we go inside?" He spread his arm out and welcomed entry.

"That's what I said," muttered Cherry, shuffling past the older man.

Schim moved to follow the sheriff. Idly, he glanced toward Spielgelman and was terrified by what he saw. As he watched with wide eyes, the preacher changed. His face spread apart like the petals on a flower. The whorl of fleshy corolla peeled back to reveal an underside coated in dark purple suction cups and a whip-like black tongue with a shiny barb at the end became visible. The change was swift but it was overt. Thoroughly caught off guard, Schim hardly managed to warn his partner as the preacher came from behind.

"Sheriff, look out!"

Cherry managed a half glance over his shoulder. He didn't need to see much to comprehend the threat of the situation. He dodged as the preacher grabbed at him, his distorted mouth clamping into the air where the sheriff had been moments before. "Holy shit!"

"It's Spiegelman!" cried Schim. "It's not Spiegelman!"

"What the fuck is goin' on?" yelped Cherry as the preacher lunged at him with a hissing sound. The sheriff didn't wait for a third go-around and instead he himself lunged at the church door, slamming it behind not a moment too soon. He had to plant his feet firmly and press with the whole of his body to keep the entry closed as the monstrous holy man beat at the wood with sounds of inhuman outrage. "What the fuck is goin' on?" he repeated when his deupty joined him.

Thud! The door rattled with the force of the creature.

Schim was incredulous. "How should I know? You think I know what the fuck is goin' on?!"

Thud! Another howl.

"You saw it!" insisted Cherry. "You saw whatever happened!"

"Yeah," said Schim. "I saw the preacher turn into a demon. That's what I saw!"

Thud! There was a loud crack. Nothing showed. It would eventually.

"He was goin' after you," Schim continued.

"What the hell am I supposed to do about this? I thought you got holy men for demons! What do you do when the holy man is a demon?"

The expected thud did not arrive. There was an eerie quiet. Schim looked to Cherry and Cherry at Schim. "Well?" Cherry remarked.

"Well?"

"Do you think the idea is to lull us out with a false sense of sec--"

A ear shattering screech exploded from beyond the confines of the church. It was painful and inhuman. Schim furrowed his brow, trying to place it. It hadn't come from the preacher. Schim realized this at approximately the same time as the sheriff. Horrified, he did what he could to dissuade the other man from rash action. "Ewald, don't. Stay here. Don't go--"

"That son of a bitch is eating my horse!" exclaimed Cherry and he flung wide the church doors in a blind rage.