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Mar. 29th, 2009 04:21 pmDoc and Kate have run to the store for a few things for their trip and for dinner, leaving Bill to finish his nap he needed after the rude awakening he received that morning.
Laying in bed sleep doesn't come. The article and Kate and Doc's trip are stuck on his mind.
Getting up he goes to the kitchen, getting a glass of water. Leaning back against the counter drinking he spots the newspaper still on the kitchen table. The front page is no longer on top but he still imagines the headline standing out.
Alleged shooter moved to state hospital.
Alleged.
That's what got to him most about the headline. 'Alleged' when he knows full and damn well it was Lawson that pulled the trigger on him; when he's absolutely certain it was Lawson who killed Hargrove.
Alleged.
Shaking his head he sets his glass down on the counter and picks up the newspaper again. Lawson was moved to the state hospital, minimum security since he's not likely to be walking, or doing anything, anytime soon. Or ever.
After staring hard at the article again he bows his head; thinking. Glancing towards the front door he doesn't expect Kate and Doc back for awhile yet.
They'll be leaving tomorrow from the airport in Columbia.
He debates a minute longer then rolls the paper up tight, clenching it in his fist as he moves to pick up the phone on the counter.
"Wheelsy Sherriff's department."
"Nancy, this is Bill."
"Hey, sheriff. How you doin'?"
"I'm fine. You there by yourself?"
"Yeah, the others are out at Christy an' Pete's place. Pete was tryin' to jack up the truck to put some big tires on it an' had it fall on him."
Bill's eyes widen and his hand tightens a fraction on the receiver.
"He all right?"
"Yeah, he's fine. Just stuck is all." Nancy's voice comes back with a laugh. "He won't be after Christy gets ahold of him, though. I heard -- "
"Nancy, listen, I'm sorry but I need you to do me a favor." Bill interrupts, pulling open a drawer beside him and rooting around for a pen. "An' I need you to keep it between us."
There's a brief hesitance before Nancy replies, "Sure, sheriff. Whatcha need?"
He looks at the newspaper in his hand again. Working his throat he tears off a piece to write on and, voice level, replies to Nancy.
"I need the number for the state hospital in Columbia."
Laying in bed sleep doesn't come. The article and Kate and Doc's trip are stuck on his mind.
Getting up he goes to the kitchen, getting a glass of water. Leaning back against the counter drinking he spots the newspaper still on the kitchen table. The front page is no longer on top but he still imagines the headline standing out.
Alleged shooter moved to state hospital.
Alleged.
That's what got to him most about the headline. 'Alleged' when he knows full and damn well it was Lawson that pulled the trigger on him; when he's absolutely certain it was Lawson who killed Hargrove.
Alleged.
Shaking his head he sets his glass down on the counter and picks up the newspaper again. Lawson was moved to the state hospital, minimum security since he's not likely to be walking, or doing anything, anytime soon. Or ever.
After staring hard at the article again he bows his head; thinking. Glancing towards the front door he doesn't expect Kate and Doc back for awhile yet.
They'll be leaving tomorrow from the airport in Columbia.
He debates a minute longer then rolls the paper up tight, clenching it in his fist as he moves to pick up the phone on the counter.
"Wheelsy Sherriff's department."
"Nancy, this is Bill."
"Hey, sheriff. How you doin'?"
"I'm fine. You there by yourself?"
"Yeah, the others are out at Christy an' Pete's place. Pete was tryin' to jack up the truck to put some big tires on it an' had it fall on him."
Bill's eyes widen and his hand tightens a fraction on the receiver.
"He all right?"
"Yeah, he's fine. Just stuck is all." Nancy's voice comes back with a laugh. "He won't be after Christy gets ahold of him, though. I heard -- "
"Nancy, listen, I'm sorry but I need you to do me a favor." Bill interrupts, pulling open a drawer beside him and rooting around for a pen. "An' I need you to keep it between us."
There's a brief hesitance before Nancy replies, "Sure, sheriff. Whatcha need?"
He looks at the newspaper in his hand again. Working his throat he tears off a piece to write on and, voice level, replies to Nancy.
"I need the number for the state hospital in Columbia."
