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ary； to be exact。 Which means it's your case； Sheriff。 We're here to help； of course； but it's your case。 So let me be the first to offer my congratulations。〃
He beamed and held out his hand。
Sheriff Dent Hazen ignored the hand。 Instead he plucked the pack of cigarettes from his breast pocket； shook one out； pushed it between his lips； and lit it。 He inhaled and then spoke； the smoke puffing out with his words。 〃Twelve feet？〃 he repeated。 〃Jesus Christ。〃
The captain let his hand fall to his side。
Hazen began to talk。 〃The victim was murdered somewhere else and carried here。 The murderer came through the corn over there； dragged her the last twenty feet or so。 If you follow the row backwards from that broken stalk； you'll e to a piece of caught fabric。 The fabric matches that of the victim； but it's caught too high on the stalk for her to have been walking； so he must've been lugging her on his back。 You may see my footprints and the place where I took a piss in the adjoining row； don't bother with that。 And for God's sake； Captain； do we really need all these people？ This is a crime scene； not a Wal…Mart parking lot。 I want only the M。E。； the photographer； and the evidence gatherer on site。 Tell the rest to back off。〃
〃Sheriff； we do have our procedures to follow…〃
〃My procedures are now your procedures。〃
The captain swallowed。
〃I want a pair of certified； trained AKC police bloodhounds here ASAP to get on the trail。 And I want you to get the forensic evidence team down from Dodge。〃
〃Right。〃
〃And one other thing。〃
〃What's that？〃
〃I want your boys to pull over any arriving press。 Especially television trucks。 Tie them up while we plete work here。〃
〃Pull them over for what？〃
〃Give 'em all speeding tickets。 That's what you boys are good at； right？〃
The captain's tight jaw grew even tighter。 〃And if they're not speeding？〃
Sheriff Hazen grinned。 〃Oh； they'll be speeding； all right。 You can bet your ass on it。〃
Three
Deputy Sheriff Tad Franklin sat hunched over his desk； filling out reams of unfamiliar paperwork and trying to pretend that the unruly knot of television and newspaper reporters just outside the plate glass window of the Medicine Creek Sheriff's Department didn't exist。 Tad had always liked the fact that the sheriff's HQ was located in a former five…and…ten…cent storefront； where he could wave to passersby； chat with friends； keep tabs on who was ing or going。 But now the disadvantages of the office had suddenly bee obvious。
The fiery light of yet another hot August sunrise had begun spilling down the street； stretching long shadows from the news trucks and gilding the unhappy faces of the reporters。 They had been up all night and things were beginning to look ugly。 A steady stream came and went from Maisie's Diner across the street； but the plain food only seemed to make them grumpier。
Tad Franklin tried to concentrate on the paperwork； but he found himself unable to ignore the tapping on the window； the questions； the occasional shouted vulgarity。 This was getting intolerable。 If they woke Sheriff Hazen； who was grabbing a few winks in the back cell； things might get even uglier。 Tad rose； tried to put on as stern a look as possible； and cracked open a window。
〃I'll ask you once again to step back from the glass；〃 he said。
This was greeted with a muffled chorus of disrespectful ments； shouted questions； a general undercurrent of irritation。 Tad knew from the call letters on the vans that the reporters weren't local； they were from Topeka； Kansas City； Tulsa； Amarillo； and Denver。 Well； they could just ride on back home and…
Behind him； Tad heard a door thump； a cough。 He turned to see Sheriff Hazen； yawning and rubbing his stubbly chin； the hair on one side of his head sticking out horizontally。 The sheriff smoothed it down； then fitted on his hat with both hands。
Tad closed the window。 〃Sorry； Sheriff； but these people just won't go away…〃
The sheriff yawned； waved his hand casually； turned his back on the crowd。 A particularly angry reporter in the rear of the crowd shouted out a stream of invective； in which the words 〃redneck in miniature〃 could be heard。 Hazen went to the coffee pot； poured a cup。 He sipped it； made a face； spat the coffee back into the cup； hawked up a loogie； deposited it in the cup as well； and then poured everything back into the pot。
〃Want me to get a fresh pot？〃 asked Tad。
〃No thanks； Tad；〃 the sheriff replied； giving his deputy's shoulder a gruff pat。 Then he turned back to face the group through the glass once more。 〃These folks need something for the six o'clock news； don't you think？〃 he said。 〃Time for a press conference。〃
〃A press conference？〃 Tad had never attended a press conference in his life； let alone been part of one。 〃How do you do that？〃
Sheriff Hazen barked a laugh； briefly displaying a rack of yellow teeth。 〃We go outside and answer questions。〃 He went to the old glass door； unlocked it； and stuck his head out。
〃How you folks all doing？〃
This was greeted by a surge and an inprehensible welter of shouted questions。
Sheriff Hazen held up an arm； palm toward the crowd。 He was still wearing his short…sleeved uniform from the night before； and the gesture exposed a half…moon of sweat that reached halfway to his waist。 He was short； but short like a bulldog； and there was something about him that manded respect。 Tad had seen the sheriff loosen the teeth of a suspect almost twice his size。Never get in a fight with anyone under five foot six； he told himself。 The crowd fell silent。
The sheriff dropped his arm。 〃My deputy； Tad Franklin； and myself will give a statement and answer questions。 Let's all behave like civilized people。 What say？〃
The crowd shuffled in place。 Lights went on； mikes were boomed forward； there was the clicking of cassette recorders； the fluttering of camera shutters。
〃Tad； let's give these good folks some fresh coffee。〃
Tad looked at Hazen。 Hazen winked。
Tad grabbed the pot； peered in； gave it a quick shake。 Then he reached for a stack of styrofoam cups； stepped out the door； and began doling out the coffee。 There were some sips； a few furtive sniffs。
〃Drink up！〃 Hazen cried good…naturedly。 〃Never let it be said we're not hospitable folks here in Medicine Creek！〃
There was a general shuffling； more sipping； a few covert glances into the cups。 The coffee seemed to have subdued； if not broken； the spirit of the group。 Though it was barely dawn； the heat was already oppressive。 There was no place to put down the cups； no trash can to drop them in。 And a sign outside the door to the sheriff's office readNO LITTERING： 100 FINE 。
Hazen adjusted his hat； then stepped out onto the sidewalk。 He looked around； his shoulders squared to the crowd as the cameras rolled。 He then addressed the group。 He told in dry police language of finding the body； he described the clearing； the body； and the spitted birds。 It was pretty vivid stuff； but the sheriff managed to handle it matter…of…factly； throwing in a folksy ment here and there； in a way that neutralized most of the gruesome aspects。 It amazed Tad how easygoing； even charming； his boss could be whe