No Ordinary Sheriff. Mary Sullivan
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sure he got it here?”
“Pretty sure. There’s a problem throughout Montana. I just hadn’t suspected it was this close to home.”
“Me, either. I don’t have anyone at the school who looks like they’re taking it.”
“Yeah, it ravages people quickly. You can usually tell.”
“Listen, Cash, we have an assembly in a couple of weeks—students and parents. On Thursday. Will you come talk about the dangers of drugs? Both the kids and their parents need to be informed about this issue.”
“Good idea. What time?”
“After lunch. One o’clock.”
These kids were too young to do meth, but you just never knew… Cash stood to leave. “Call me if you hear even a whisper about meth in the school.”
“You got it. I’ll keep an eye on Austin when I can.”
“Appreciate it.”
The stores were open by the time Cash left school and he bought a thick, durable ski jacket. New, not used and worn like the stuff Austin’s mom bought him. Cash also picked up a wool hat and Thinsulate gloves.
After a stop at the New American diner for breakfast, he returned to the cop shop.
Austin slept soundly in the cell with his mouth open and drool dripping toward his ear. He had one arm flung above his head and the other dangling over the side of the cot.
Cash sat at his desk and booted up the computer. He searched data in San Francisco for Frank’s whereabouts first, but Dad had hidden his tracks. Why? Why come all the way to Ordinary to tell Cash he was dying and then drive away without leaving contact information?
Maybe because of your reaction to him? You weren’t exactly welcoming.
Yeah, and I refuse to feel guilty about that.
He dialed his mom’s number in San Francisco. Jamie answered instead, sounding peeved.
“Hey, buddy, it’s Cash. What’s wrong?”
“It’s Mom and Dad.” Yeah, Jamie definitely sounded sullen. “They won’t let me do stuff I want to do. They treat me like I’m a kid.”
Technically, Jamie was still a kid at fifteen.
Every time Cash had this conversation with his half-brother, he lost his patience. He couldn’t relate. He’d lived such a different adolescence. What he wouldn’t have given for the stable family life that Jamie had.
Cash spun the desk chair around to look at Austin in the cell.
“Jamie, at the moment I’m sitting in my office. I just put a twelve-year-old kid in the jail cell. His father’s dead and his mom’s useless.”
Austin stirred, mumbled something, then settled.
“Count yourself lucky you’ve got two loving parents who care enough to set limits.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
Cash sighed. “I’m not. This kid is raising himself. I’m pretty sure he’d trade places with you without blinking.”
Cash squeezed the bridge of his nose. “Put Mom on the phone.”
A minute later, Cash’s mom came on.
“Cash, how are you, honey?” She sounded great, so much better than the woman she used to be. She’d found love and it fit her in all the right places.
“Hi, Mom, I’m good. I hate to ask, but do you know where Dad lives these days?”
“Last I heard he was still in the same old apartment.”
“He isn’t anymore.”
“He tried to contact me, but I wouldn’t take his calls.”
“He’s dying, Mom. Cirrhosis of the liver.”
She was silent for a long time then said, “That’s too bad. It isn’t a surprise, but it’s…unfortunate.”
“I didn’t tell you to bring you down, I just need to find him.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. I guess because he’s my father and he’s dying.” Austin stirred again and Cash turned around to stare through the open horizontal blinds onto Main Street. “He looked bad.”
“He’s family, that has to count for something.”
“Will you attend his funeral?”
“I’ll have to think about it, Cash, but probably not.”
“Okay.” Even if she didn’t have enough respect for Frank to attend, Cash hoped she would be there to support him.
He hung up.
On his own again.
Cash swiveled in his old desk chair to face the office again, ignoring his numb behind.
Austin sat on the edge of the cot, his hair flattened on one side of his head.
“What do you think?” Cash asked. “You learned your lesson?”
“Yeah.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah,” Austin croaked, his voice sounding groggy.
“Tell me what you learned.”
Austin shrugged. “I shouldn’t smoke weed?” He really didn’t get it.
“Listen, I’ve been where you are. I spent a lot of years taking care of my mom when she couldn’t take care of herself, when my dad wasn’t around.”
Austin wouldn’t look Cash in the eye.
“What would happen to your mom if you got into serious trouble, serious enough to end up in jail? You think she has any idea how to take care of herself?”
“No,” Austin mumbled.
He gestured to the cell. “If you’re not careful, one of these days this will be real.”
Austin’s eyes lit with fear.
“If I wanted to, I could cart you off to a social worker who might decide you’re better off in foster care.”
Yeah, that was fear in his eyes, all right.
“Next time I catch you with drugs, I’m going to have to charge you. What life dished out to you isn’t fair,” Cash continued, “but you have to keep moving forward. Don’t be tempted by this shit, Austin. By the easy way out. When you don’t feel strong enough to face it on your own, you call me. Got it?”
Austin finally looked up and Cash was humbled by the gratitude on his face. “Yeah, I got it.”
“You want out?”
“I wanna go home.”
Cash nodded. “Okay.”
He unlocked the cell door and Austin walked past him.
“Give me your jacket,” Cash said.
Austin recoiled. “You’re gonna make me walk home without my coat?”
He frowned. “’Course not. I bought you a new one.”
“Why?”
“Because the one you’re wearing is falling apart. Besides, it’s not a winter jacket.” Looking at Austin, Cash realized he’d misinterpreted the question. As far as he could tell, Austin had meant either “what do I have to do for it?” or “why do you care?”
“Because,” he said as he handed Austin the new one, “I’m your Big Brother. It’s my responsibility to watch out for you.”
Austin took off his