The Shining Badge Read online

  “I just got back from town. That old truck is on its last leg.”

  “No, it’s not. Clint’s going to keep it running,” Jenny said cheerfully.

  “Well, put some water in the radiator before you go.”

  “All right.” Jenny left the room, and as soon as she did, Lewis slipped his arms around Missouri Ann and held her. “I’m quite an armful, especially now,” she whispered.

  Lewis stroked her hair and kissed her on the cheek. “I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to you, sweetheart,” he whispered.

  Missouri Ann could not answer, for her throat seemed to close and tears burned her eyes. She had yearned for affection and love for so long! Her first husband had been quiet and distant, and she had never known what it was to be appreciated. Joining the Winslow family had brought new life to her, and now she put her head on Lewis’s shoulder and just thanked God as her beloved husband held her tightly.

  He started to say something else when a loud voice broke into their private moment. “The old Townsend place, it’s haunted!” Startled, both Lewis and Missouri Ann turned to see Kat barreling into the room. Her gray eyes were wide open, and her overalls were tattered and filthy from the straps down to the frayed cuffs. Her tawny hair was uncombed, but this was seldom a matter of concern for Kat Winslow. At fourteen she was just beginning to develop a girlish figure, but this was hidden beneath the shapeless overalls. “Dallas says he’s seen lights there at night.”

  “Oh, don’t be foolish!” Lewis said. “There’s no such thing as ghosts.”

  “Yes, there is too!” Kat argued.

  As Lewis had often remarked, she would argue with a tree. All Winslows displayed a characteristic stubbornness, but with Kat it was absolutely unrestrained.

  “No,” Lewis said, “the lights Dallas saw must have a logical explanation.”

  Kat began to argue that there were indeed such things as haunts and ghosts, but Jenny appeared in the door, saying, “If you’re going with me, Kat, you’d better get cleaned up. You’ve got ten minutes.”

  “I’ll get my swimsuit too. We can go swimming on the way back!” Kat whirled and raced for the door but paused long enough to nod firmly. “Dallas says they were spooky lights bobbing up and down. And Dallas don’t lie.”

  “Doesn’t lie,” Jenny corrected, and the two girls disappeared up the stairs.

  Lewis sighed. “I’m not sure I like the ideas that boy is putting into her head,” he said, referring to Dallas Sharp, one of the neighbor boys and Kat’s good friend. “And every day she spends with him, the worse her speech gets too!”

  “Well, most people around here believe in haunted houses and such things, but I don’t. As for her speech, she’s just tryin’ to fit in down here. She’ll grow out of that and be her own person one of these days.”

  “You think she’ll ever throw those filthy overalls away and put on a dress like a normal girl?”

  “Of course she will,” Missouri Ann asserted, nodding firmly. “She’ll come out of it before you know it and be a beautiful young lady—just like Jenny and Hannah.”

  “And you, sweetheart.” Lewis knew that his new wife was starved for expressions of love, and he was rewarded for his kindness with a winning smile and a kiss.

  ****

  As Jenny brought the Studebaker to a halt in front of the Huntington General Store, the afternoon sun was already waning. “We’ve got to hurry, Kat. I want to get home before dark.”

  “Aw, I wanta go see a movie!”

  “We’re not going to see any movie.”

  “But they got one of them cartoons on—Mickey Mouse.”

  “Those cartoons, Kat! And I’m sorry, but money’s just too tight. We’ll save up and maybe go next time we’re in town.”

  The girls stepped out of the truck and entered the general store, where the owner, H. G. Huntington, stocked everything from mule harnesses to oatmeal. Next to bolts of cloth for ladies’ dresses sat barrels of pickles, their sour smell mixing with the fragrance of cinnamon.

  “I’ve got to get some spices for Ma,” Jenny said as she sniffed the cinnamon. “She’s been hankering for pumpkin pie.”

  “I’m gonna look at the knives,” Kat announced and strode over to peer into the case of knives she always admired when they visited the general store.

  Jenny quickly found the spices she needed, then turned and walked back toward the counter. She had been aware of a loud voice, and now she saw a man in the uniform of the county sheriff’s office standing in front of a huge black man. She stopped and watched Mr. Huntington, who stood behind the counter looking helpless. His eyes met Jenny’s for a moment, and then he shook his head ruefully. Aloud he said, “It’s probably my error, Deputy.”

  Deputy Max Conroy was six feet tall and lean as a snake. Beneath his wide-brimmed cap with its peaked crown, he stared coldly at the owner and said, “This buck here tried to steal some groceries. That’s what you told me.”

  “I . . . I made a mistake. He’s a good boy. He was on his way to pay for it.”

  Deputy Conroy shook his head. “You done made charges, Mr. Huntington. I’ll have to take him in.”

  “I won’t press the charges,” Huntington said quickly.

  Jenny could see Conroy’s cold green eyes, but her gaze turned quickly to the man who stood before him. He was a huge black man, tall as well as broad, and the thought came to her, You could split Max Conroy in two. She did not like Deputy Conroy, for he had pressed himself on her several times trying to convince her to go out with him. Now she heard Conroy say, “All right, Noah, get yourself out of here. But I got my eye on you. I’m gonna have you back doin’ time again. They let you out too soon is what I say. Now, get on outta here!”

  The black man turned and walked away swiftly. Jenny had heard Missouri Ann talk about Noah Valentine. He had grown up with a widowed mother and a number of younger brothers and sisters. According to Missouri, Noah had gotten in trouble and been sent to the state penitentiary for the crime of selling moonshine. Perhaps because her stepson, Joshua, had been sentenced for the same charge, Missouri felt compassion for Noah. Jenny remembered how Missouri Ann had said, “Noah got saved while he was in the penitentiary just like Josh, and when he came home he started in workin’ hard, takin’ care of his mother and all those brothers and sisters. He never misses a Sunday at church, and he’s even preached there several times. But people won’t give him a chance around here. Once a man’s been in the pen, that black mark never goes away. But Noah Valentine’s a good man, I don’t care what they say!”

  Jenny had turned to watch the big man leave when suddenly she felt her arm seized and turned around quickly to face Deputy Max Conroy. He was smiling at her now, and his grip was somehow intimidating. “That’s mighty sweet perfume you got on there, Jenny.”

  Jenny tried to remove her arm, but he held fast. “Let go, Max.”

  “My, you’re a regular touch-me-not! Look, I’m not such a bad fella. They’re havin’ a dance over at Cedar Mount tomorrow night. Let’s me and you go show ’em how it’s done.”

  “I’d rather not.”

  Conroy’s grip tightened. He was a strong man despite being so lean, and the smile on his lips did not reach his eyes. “You New York girls are pretty stuck up, but you’ll find out it’s different down here in Georgia.”

  “Let me go!”

  Jenny tried to pull her arm away, but Conroy only laughed. “You’ll have to do better than that,” he said. “Now, about that dance—”

  “Let her go, Max.”

  Conroy whirled quickly to see the bulky form of Noel Beauchamp, the sheriff. Beauchamp was a thickset man, with a deep chest and steady brown eyes. “You got nothin’ to do but annoy customers here at the store, Max? Maybe you need some time off.”

  “Oh, Noel, I was just havin’ a little fun.”

  “Go have your fun somewhere else.”

  “Sure, Sheriff.”

  Conroy turned and left, but his back was stiff with suppres
sed anger.

  Jenny watched him go. “You made him mad, Sheriff Beauchamp.”

  “Max is always mad. If he gives you any trouble, you let me know.”

  “He was picking on Noah Valentine again, Sheriff,” Huntington said.

  “I don’t think Max has enough work to do. I’ll keep an eye on him.”

  Jenny said, “Stop by and see us sometime, Sheriff.”

  “I’ll do that, Miss Jenny. Your family all right?”

  “All doing fine.”

  Beauchamp smiled, wrinkles appearing around the corners of his eyes. “Your father’s going to be a daddy again. That’ll be quite a switch for him, won’t it?”

  “He’s real nervous about it, Sheriff, but he’ll do fine.”

  “I know he will.”

  Jenny found Kat still staring at the knife case, and the two left the store. Kat babbled all the way home about the ghosts at the Townsend place.

  Then switching the subject, she said, “Let’s go to the swimming hole. There’s still time.”

  “No, it’s too late now.”

  “But we’ve got a whole hour yet. That’s plenty of time.”

  Although Jenny was in a hurry to get home, she was also hot and sweaty and the idea of a swim appealed to her. “All right, but we can’t stay long.” She pulled off the highway and followed an old logging road down to the river. Jenny had been delighted to find this private spot for swimming, where the river made a bend and was thickly bordered by first-growth timber, completely sheltered from the highway.

  She parked the truck and the two changed into their suits behind some thick fir trees, then ran laughing into the river. For half an hour they sputtered and laughed, reveling in the coolness of the water. Finally Jenny decided, “Come on, we’ve got to get home.”

  Kat protested, but ten minutes later they were dressed and Jenny was pulling the truck back onto the highway. Just as she turned, Kat suddenly cried, “See there? I told you the house was haunted!”

  Jenny slowed the truck to a stop and turned to peer out the window. “Where?” she said.

  “There!” It was almost dark now, but far away Jenny could see a light bobbing up and down in front of a house that was partly sheltered by tall trees. “That’s the Townsend place, and that’s a ghost!”

  “It’s not a ghost. It’s somebody carrying a lantern.”

  Jenny put the truck back in gear, and as they started off, she scolded Kat. “Stop talking about silly things like ghosts! That’s probably just some coon hunter starting in early.”

  “It’s no coon hunter. It’s a ghost!” Kat said firmly. “You’ll see when it comes over to haunt our place!”

  CHAPTER TWO

  Jenny Makes a Call

  “Get away, Stonewall. Dogs don’t eat worms!”

  Kat shoved at the huge dog, who had joined her as she dug for angle worms under the eaves of the house. She had discovered that the leaves gathered there made a rich black soil that made finding fishing bait much easier. Stonewall crowded in closer. He plumped himself down on her feet, and Kat shook her head with disgust. “How do you ’spect me to dig bait when you’re sittin’ on my feet? Get away!”

  With some effort she shoved the big dog away, which was quite a task, since he weighed more than she did. He backed up the minimal distance and stood watching as she drove the spade into the ground, turned over a shovelful of the loose soil and then began grabbing the worms as they wiggled and squirmed to get away. With satisfaction she dumped them into a large can half filled with leaf mold and watched as they quickly disappeared. “You can hide down there if you want to,” Kat said with satisfaction, “but after a while you’ll be in the belly of a fish.”

  The sun was dipping westward, and for a moment Kat watched with pleasure as it touched the ragged rim of hills to the west. The sun seemed to break like the yolk of an egg, spilling out and outlining the edges of the low-lying mountains before disappearing completely. She stood for a time absolutely still, which was unusual for her, and thought with satisfaction how much better her life was since they had moved from New York to the hills of Georgia. The adults had had more difficulty adjusting, but she had loved the rural life from the day they had arrived. Now as the day’s heat came out of the earth, she waited until long streaks of light broke against the fading sky, and the shadows began to grow purplish against the mountains in the distance. A movement caught her eye, and she turned to see Clint coming from the barn. Throwing the spade down, she raced across the yard, driving straight through a flock of guineas that screamed their peculiar call as she scattered them. “Clint!” she cried. “Clint, it’s time for Little Orphan Annie!”

  Clint Longstreet stopped and grinned down at the young girl, a smile lifting the corners of his lips. He was a tall, lanky man with gray-green eyes, sandy hair, and a face somewhat the worse for wear. His nose had been broken once in some forgotten battle, and a scar ran along the jawline on the right side of his face. He reached up to shove his straw hat back, revealing that the tip of his right little finger was missing. “Little Orphan Annie,” he said. “I don’t think I recollect promisin’ to listen to that program with you.”

  Kat came at once and grabbed Clint’s arm and began tugging at him. “Yes, you did, Clint! Last night at supper you said you’d listen to it with me.”

  Longstreet allowed himself to be pulled up the steps, remarking only, “Ma’ll kill you if you go takin’ those muddy shoes in the house.”

  Kat kicked off the shoes, then said, “Hurry up, we’ll miss it! It’s almost time!”

  The two entered the house. The front door opened down a spacious hallway, and Clint allowed himself to be tugged into the parlor. For once no one was in the room, and Clint settled down into a cane-bottom rocker cushioned with a garish orange cushion. He watched as Kat went over and turned on the radio, then remarked, “I’m glad we’ve got electricity and don’t have to fool with one of them battery radios. They always went out just when you wanted to hear a ball game the worst.”

  “Be quiet, Clint, it’s starting!” Kat commanded. She came over and plopped down on the floor next to him, resting her head against his leg. The girl’s affection toward him was pleasing to Clint. He had been a bachelor until just recently, when he had married Hannah, and he had never had much to do with children. While he had helped take over the affairs of the Winslows after their lives had come crashing down, he had come to love Kat Winslow. He laid his hand on her shoulder as she listened and thought, Maybe Hannah and me will have a little girl. Wouldn’t that be something!

  As the radio gradually warmed up, a warbly tenor voice began to emerge from the speaker, singing,

  “Who’s that little chatterbox?

  The one with the pretty auburn locks?

  Who-oo can it be?

  Cute little she.

  It’s Little Orphan Annie!”

  Little Orphan Annie mania had swept across the country. Everyone was aware of the dramatic adventures of the small girl who shouted “Leapin’ lizards!” on the least provocation. The earliest episodes had been lifted directly from newspaper story lines, and the plots were relatively simple, Annie foiling the schemes of foreign agents and criminals of all sorts. Annie, along with her dog, Sandy, had captivated America’s children—and not a few of the adults.

  Finally the announcer said, “Now for the secret message. Only Annie’s friends will be able to decode this. If you don’t have your Little Orphan Annie secret decoder ring, you’re missing out, kids. So send in those Ovaltine coupons.”

  “Clint, come on!”

  “Where we going now?” Clint protested as Kat pulled him to his feet.

  “We’re going to drink some Ovaltine.”

  “Ovaltine! I hate that stuff!”

  “It’s good for you. It says so right on the box. Come on.”

  Kat went over, turned the radio off, and again took Clint by the hand, tugging him toward the kitchen. “You’ve got to drink more Ovaltine if I’m ever going to get my Secr
et Decoder ring.”

  “I’d rather pay cash money than drink that stuff.”

  “It’s good. I like it.”

  Missouri Ann was sitting on a stool at the kitchen table when the two entered, the ingredients for a pie out in front of her. Jenny, who had on a white apron over her dress, looked up and smiled. “What have you two been up to?”

  “Clint wants an Ovaltine,” Kat announced. “A lot of it in a big glass.”

  “No, I don’t,” Clint protested, but his protests were ignored. Kat went to the larder and pulled out a box, then fetched the largest glass in the kitchen. Pouring it full of fresh, sweet milk, she added two liberal spoonfuls of Ovaltine and stirred it. “Now, you drink all this, Clint.”

  Clint made a face but managed to down the Ovaltine. “There, that ought to make you happy,” he said.

  “You sure you don’t want some more?”

  “No, I feel like that stuff’s in my blood.”

  “I’m going to have some too.” The three adults watched as Kat fixed herself a glass of milk liberally laced with Ovaltine and drank it down, having to force the last few swallows.

  “You’re going to pop,” Jenny warned.

  “No, I’m not. And as soon as I get that Secret Decoder ring, you’ll see something. Come on, Clint, you can go help me dig some more worms. And then maybe later tonight we’ll go over to the old Townsend place and see the ghosts.”

  “What ghosts?”

  “The ones at the old Townsend place. It’s haunted. Dallas told me he seen some of ’em.”

  “He saw some of them,” Jenny said quickly, “and don’t be foolish. There’s no such things as ghosts.”

  “There are too. Dallas saw them—and so did you!”

  “I think we’d better go dig worms,” Clint said, grinning. He turned, and the two left the room, Kat protesting loudly that there were too such things as ghosts.

  “That child would argue with anything,” Missouri Ann said mildly.

  “She’s certainly foolish about Clint.”