Chapter 7
The night passed quietly with shadows drifting across the ground, in time with the rising and setting moon. The summer nights drew out a host of nocturnal creatures as bats darted through the sky, looking for their fill of whatever they could grab from the warm air. But it was the next morning that brought the potential for trouble. During breakfast, Samantha and her mother were startled by the sound of the doorbell, and getting up from her morning coffee, Samantha answered the door. Believing the events of the previous night had been resolved, she was shocked to find the sheriff standing on the doorstep.
“Oh, Sheriff,” she began. “Um...help you with something?”
Her mother, having heard the word 'sheriff', quickly walked to the front door.
“Sheriff, can I help you?”
“Morning, sorry to come around so early, but I was wondering if I could have a talk with Sam here,” he said.
Her mother became visibly concerned and waved Samantha back from the door.
“Is she in some kind of trouble?”
“No, I don't think so,” the Sheriff began. “But I would like to speak with her.”
She motioned Samantha up to the door, but not before Quickly whispering something in her ear. During her college career, her mother had taken several classes in law, and being familiar with the abuse of authority, she insisted on knowing her rights. Armed with this information, she was constantly trying to keep Samantha informed, but this only brought Samantha to the belief that her mother was somewhat paranoid. Until now.
“Hey, Sam,” the Sheriff continued. “Can you tell me where you were last night?”
Samantha was terrified. Ordinarily, she was a quiet girl and keeping to herself helped her to stay out of trouble. This was her first, and hopefully, only brush with the law. She was fully aware of the reason for the Sheriff's visit and remembering what her mother had told her, met his question with silence.
“Sam,” the Sheriff continued. “This is important.”
Her mother, again, stepped to the door.
“My daughter didn't do anything wrong!”
The Sheriff managed to contain his impatience, but given the seriousness of the previous night events, he was forced to be blunt.
“Alright,” he said. “Here's what's happening. There was at least one gunshot heard near the cemetery last night, and as I was driving there I saw you and one of your friends in my rear view mirror. So, you can either answer my questions or I can take you into custody for hindering an investigation.”
Samantha looked to her mother with a panicked expression.
“Sheriff,” her mother began. “Give us a minute.”
The Sheriff nodded as she led Samantha away from the door and whispered into her ear. It was obvious to him that she was being coached and would probably not get all the information he was looking for. She returned to the open door with her mother standing behind her.
“Yeah,” she began. “I was at the cemetery last night. You know, just looking at the stars.”
A psychiatrist would say that anxiety is what makes people talk, and the sheriff was an expert at exploiting this idea as a tactic of intimidation, making strong eye contact while speaking in an authoritative voice.
“You see anything strange down there?”
He was quite accomplished in reading behavior and Samantha's hesitation spoke volumes.
“Um, well,” she replied. “We heard some coyotes howling in the woods.”
The Sheriff raised his eyes from his notepad.
“Who's we?” he asked.
Samantha felt cornered as fear took over her already tense emotions.
“Uh, just a friend,” she answered.
The sheriff's patience was wearing thin and felt it was now necessary to be a bit more stern.
“Look Sam,” he continued. “I don't care what you doing down there, but I got a complaint of gunfire in that cemetery. So you better start giving me some straight answers, or I 'will' take you into custody. Now, you want to start over again?”
Seeing that the Sheriff's questions were becoming more aggressive, Samantha's mother interrupted.
“Sheriff, my daughter doesn't have to answer any these questions! She knows her rights and...”
The Sheriff's patience had come to an end as he abruptly interrupted her.
“With all due respect, ma'am. Don't give me any of that constitutional crap. I got a job to do and this is a matter of public safety. Now, I know that Sam was down at that cemetery last night! She could've been killed! Now, I want to know what happened!”
Samantha looked to her mother again who, having realized the seriousness of the matter, nodded her approval.
“Um, some coyotes came out of the woods and this guy just showed up out of nowhere and shot one of them. He...kind of saved our lives, actually.”
The Sheriff took a moment to write some notes.
“Did you recognize him?” the Sheriff asked.
Samantha tried to remember if she'd seen the man's face, but the only thing she could recall was his voice.
“It was really dark,” she replied. “I just know he was tall.”
The Sheriff paused in his notes.
“Alright,” he said. “Now, I really need you to try to remember. Did he have a gun, or a rifle?”
While Samantha had been unable to see the man's face, she did see the muzzle flash and identified the weapon as a rifle.
The Sheriff finished his notes, but had one more question.
“I saw you with someone else,” he began. “You wanna tell me who it was?”
Samantha stammered slightly in her response.
“Why? I've already answered your questions.”
He looked up from his notepad and replied with intimidating eye contact.
“Sam, I need to know who you were with.”
She looked up at her mother who responded with a nod, and turning back to the Sheriff, answered this last question. He wrote down Henry's name and before leaving, told Samantha that should he have any more questions he would return and urged her to be more cooperative. Her mother watched as the Sheriff walked back down to his car, and after closing the door confronted Samantha.
“You didn't tell me about a gunshot! Sam, you're all I have!”
Samantha was suddenly close to tears.
“I was scared!” she replied. “I just wanted to come home!”
She stepped into her mother and with tears streaming down her face, threw her arms around her. Her mother held her close while letting out a tense sigh. She had always stood up for her daughter's rights as well as her own, but she was far from paranoid and even farther from stupid. She understood the two teens probably had no idea there was anyone else in the cemetery, until the shot had been fired. Still, until that person was caught, Samantha was forbidden from going anywhere near the cemetery. Day or night. Henry, on the other hand, had been grounded for two weeks. He had done nothing worthy of punishment, but being out that late had sparked his mother's anxiety, and grounding him seemed to be an effective way of teaching him the meaning of responsibility.