CHAPTER EIGHTY-TWO
Sherry greeted the Chief as she entered his office with a small stuffed hummingbird. “Here’s something to keep you company sir.”
“Ah, yes, well thank you so much. I have just the place to display it. Did I mention your father came to see me the other day? It was the first time we ever met. He’s a very likeable fellow.”
“Yes, I know. He told me.” She said proudly.
“I didn’t know you were somewhat of a taxidermist? He said you’re almost as good at preparing skins as he is. Said you can make an animal skin appear almost lifelike. Now I can see for myself, this hummingbird looks like it’s ready to fly away,” Miller said.
“Oh, yes, daddy started teaching me before I could talk,” she beamed.
“I was wondering, does your dad shoot all the animals before stuffing them?”
“Sometimes he does, most of the time he traps them alive, then allows me to put them down.”
“Put down?”
“You know, kill’em.”
“How do you kill them?”
“It depends on the size of the animal. For small critters I just wring their necks and for larger ones, I shoot them in the head.”
“What kind of gun do you use?” he asked.
“A single-shot .22 rifle,” She answered with a puzzled look on her face.
“I’ll bet you have a lot of stuffed animals around your house?”
She now curiously observed his facial expression, not sure where he was going with his questions, “Yes, we do.”
“Your father said you were very proficient at killing the animals he had trapped.”
“I was more of the tomboy type. I didn’t play with dolls. I didn’t care for them at all. I enjoyed the discipline of the hunt. Stalking my prey and waiting patiently for the right time to strike.” She said brashly.
“I see.” Miller said as he stroked his chin.
“Do you see? Do you really see? When I was growing up my father told me something that I shall never forget. He was trying to explain to me how to deal with physically powerful men, since I was just a girl. The old saying goes, ‘The bigger they are, the harder they fall.’ My father told me, ‘The bigger they are, the harder you hit’em.’ I live by my father’s words.” She now studied his body language. Her intuition told her he was putting two-and-two together, and that, she couldn’t allow, at least, not until her mission was finished.
“Ah, well yes, certainly. Good words to live by. Ah, thank you again for the hummingbird.” Miller had a gut feeling something was very wrong, but just couldn’t put his finger on it. He actually felt somewhat uncomfortable around her now.
Sherry turned and strutted out the office door. Both would be watching each other more closely now; but who would be the cat, and who would be the mouse?