Chapter 3 #2
I turned to find an older woman and a youngling male about five-years-old entering the jail. The child bounced on his toes, his eyes wide with excitement as he took in the jail in general.
“What seems to be the problem?” I asked, automatically shifting into my professional facade.
“This is my grandson, Billy.” The woman gestured to the boy with fond exasperation. “I’m Cara Winslow, and I brought him here while his parents settle in with his new little brother.”
I realized she was the woman we’d run into on the boardwalk, the one who’d scowled. No scowl now. Maybe something unrelated to us had upset her.
“Billy’s been asking about the jail experience since we got here,” the woman said. “I promised him he could get arrested before we leave.”
“I want to see the real jail,” Billy said, ducking under his grandmother’s hand to race toward the cell where Riley still sat on the bunk. “Is she a prisoner? Did you arrest her? What did she do?”
“Billy, mind your manners,” the older woman said, but she smiled as she approached. “Sorry, Sheriff. He’s been obsessed with cowboys and outlaws since we got here.”
“No problem at all.” I crouched down to Billy’s eye level. “I’m Sheriff Dungar, and this is Deputy Riley, our newest law enforcement officer. She’s learning how the jail works.”
“A real deputy?” Billy’s eyes went even wider. “That’s so cool.” His head tilted. “Are you going to arrest me or aren’t you?”
Riley rose and stepped out of the cell. “I think that depends. Have you committed any crimes while you’ve been in Lonesome Creek?”
“I didn’t eat all my vegetables at lunch,” Billy said with the expression of someone confessing to grand larceny.
“That’s a serious offense.” I played along while the youngling’s grandmother beamed. “I think that definitely qualifies for our special tourist arrest experience.”
What followed was fifteen minutes of the most entertaining law enforcement theater I’d ever participated in, my favorite part about being the sheriff of Lonesome creek.
Billy threw himself into the role of a captured outlaw with the enthusiasm only a five-year-old could come up with, while his grandmother documented every moment with her phone.
Riley proved to be a natural, playing the stern but fair deputy with the right touch of humor to keep Billy both excited and comfortable.
“And this,” I said, gesturing grandly toward the cell, “is where notorious vegetable-avoiders serve their time.”
“It’s so small.” Billy peered through the bars. “How do you fit in there, Sheriff?”
“Very carefully. Would you like to try it out?”
Billy nodded, and I let him explore inside. His grandmother stepped closer to get pictures of her budding outlaw behind bars. She eased inside and took pictures of the bunk.
That’s when Billy grabbed the cell door and tugged it shut. The distinctive click of the lock engaging echoed through the office.
“Billy.” His grandmother laughed as she tried the handle and couldn’t open it. “Oh no, we’re trapped.”
I unlocked the door and they filed out.
His grandmother started toward the door. “Come along, Billy. We’ve had our fun. Don’t forget, we have a reservation at the restaurant for dinner soon.”
“Do I have to go?” he whined, his shoulders drooping. “I don’t want to leave.”
“Would you like to arrest me and the sheriff?” Riley asked.
“Yeah,” Billy breathed. “Can I?”
His grandmother sighed and shook her head. “Hurry up then. I’ll be waiting outside, and I’m counting to one hundred. You’d better be outside by ninety-nine.” She stepped out onto the boardwalk, leaving the door open.
“Oh no, I’m being arrested?” I hid my grin, but the sparkle in Riley’s pretty eyes told me she’d seen it anyway.
“Come along, partner.” Billy deepened his voice. “Ma’am. Inside the cell with you both. You’ve done a crime of…flower theft, and you will pay.”
“Children,” Riley said with a laugh, easing inside the cell with me following.
Billy swung the door shut and turned the key, locking the door. He tugged out the key and examined it on his palm.
“Come on, Billy,” his grandmother called out. “Hurry up in there!”
“Gotta go,” he said, racing toward the door. “Thank you, Sheriff. Thanks, Deputy Riley!”
The outer door banged shut.
Riley frowned at the door. “He…”
“Billy,” I shouted. “Come back with the key!”
Latching onto the bars, Riley shook the door, but it didn’t budge. To keep the experience authentic, we’d used real steel bars. A real door with a lock, though we’d had a spare key made.
It hung on the hook by the door.
“Billy,” Riley yelled. “Come back!”
Billy didn’t return.
And despite our shouts over the next hour, no one stepped inside to check out the jail or help us out of this awkward situation.
“Imagine,” Riley said with a shake in her voice, peering around. “A sheriff and his deputy, locked inside their own cell.” She stared at the door with an expression I couldn’t quite read.
After whatever she’d been through, I doubted she needed to be trapped in a confined space. My protective instincts screamed at me to fix this immediately, to find some way to get her out before claustrophobia or panic could set in.
“It’s alright,” I said. “I’ll figure something out.”
Tourists passed by outside, and we yelled for help, but with a fake stagecoach robbery being reenacted on Main Street, as the bangs and shouts proved, they didn’t hear us.
“Do you have a phone on you?” Riley asked. “I left mine with my things.” She pointed to her purse sitting on my desk.
“Mine’s also on my desk.” Lying in a parallel line with my blotter. “I only take it with me when I leave the jail. I was excited about technology at first, but it got tiring after a while.”
“I can understand that. With all this to enjoy,” she gestured to the town in general. “Who needs to connect with the outside world?”
We did right now.
“What are the chances someone else will come by to get locked up?” she asked.
I shrugged. It was early evening on a weekday.
“Maybe one of your brothers will visit.” Hope edged into her voice. She sat on the bunk, placing her clasped hands on her lap.
They trembled.
“Are you alright?” I asked, stepping closer to her.
Looking up at me, she nodded. “I’m sure someone will let us out soon.”
I sat beside her on the bunk. “I’m sure they will.”
Despite the circumstances that had led to this moment, being locked in a small space with my newly discovered mate felt like the most dangerous situation I’d ever encountered.