Page 62 of The Formation of Us

The reel spun as the fish fought the hook. Adam locked his fingers around the rod, reeling when the sheriff said to reel, holding steady when the sheriff warned him to hold the line. Sweat burned his eyes, and his heart banged wildly in his chest, but he didn’t let go of the rod. The sun glared on the water and made his eyes tear, and half the time he couldn’t tell whether the fish was zigging or zagging.

“I’ll bet it’s a bass,” the sheriff said.

More like a whale, but Adam knew there were no whales in Lake Erie.

Whatever it was, it wanted loose. Adam kept a firm grip on the rod, sweating and reeling and praying, until finally, he landed the fish.

The sheriff let out a low whistle as he lifted the net and plopped the biggest fish Adam had ever seen into the bottom of the boat. “Looks like you’ll be bringing home supper tonight.” He propped his elbow on his knee and grinned at Adam. “Good job, son.”

Sweat stung Adam’s eyes and his arms ached like they’d been wrenched from his shoulder sockets, but he felt ten feet tall.

Chapter 19

Wayne Archer thumped his fist on his counter. “I’m telling you, Sheriff Grayson, the parasol was stolen. We displayed it in that stand right by the door, and Miss Richards has had her eye on it for two weeks. It was our fanciest sunshade, and I can assure you I would remember selling it.”

Duke rolled his shoulder to ease the tension that was climbing his neck. “Could Mrs. Archer have sold the parasol?”

“Certainly. That’s why I checked with her. My wife didn’t sell it.”

“Did you sell it, Nicholas?” Duke asked Archer’s son, the boy involved in the incident at school with Adam and Rebecca.

“No, sir.”

Wayne scowled. “I’ve asked all the necessary questions, Sheriff. We conducted a thorough search of our store and could not locate it. The parasol was stolen.”

“All right.” Duke sighed, wondering if he’d been wrong to trust Adam. Damn it, he didn’t want to be wrong about the boy. “I’ll need a list of everyone who has been in your store since Saturday.”

Wayne’s chin dropped. “That’s impossible. Nearly everyone in Fredonia frequents my apothecary.”

“It’s only Monday, Wayne. Surely you can remember who came in on Saturday and today?”

“Maybe. Maybe not,” he said belligerently.

“As a candidate for sheriff, you must know how important it is to have a good memory. If you can’t name the people who have been in your store—”

“I can name every one of them.”

“Good. I’ll come by in the morning for your list.”

“I’ll have it ready. Not that it will do any good.”

Archer had publicly condemned Duke for allowing two swindles to take place in town. After the unfortunate incident with Henry Oakley, the farmer, Duke had warned the residents not to sign notes for anybody, but Ernie Lorenzo did it anyhow and got swindled. Now Archer would add petty theft to the list of crimes Duke hadn’t stopped. The man was as relentless as a mosquito, and Duke had to walk out of the apothecary before he squashed the annoying bastard.

The man who’d swindled Oakley and Lorenzo was probably several towns away by now, working his cons on other unsuspecting farmers. Duke had sent a telegram with the man’s description and crime to every township in the county, and one to Buffalo, and another to Erie, Pennsylvania. That was all he could do unless the man came back to town. The parasol incident was an altogether different issue, though, and one that nagged him as he walked to his family’s sawmill in Laona.

Who, other than Adam, would give Rebecca a stolen parasol?

When Duke got to the mill, Radford was howling with laughter. Boyd’s hands were lifted as if proclaiming his innocence, but the look in his eye said he was guilty as hell. That’s when Duke noticed the soaked front of Kyle’s shirt.

Kyle set an empty water jar on a drag of maple logs, then stalked Boyd. “If you ever again stick a board up my ass when I’m drinking, I’ll beat you with the damned thing.”

Boyd gave him a lopsided grin. “I gave you a goose to see if you were awake.”

“I’ll show you how awake I am.”

Boyd danced away from Kyle’s swinging fists. Radford braced his ax on the ground, laughing himself to tears. Duke stood outside their circle, chuckling at Boyd’s shenanigans, but feeling removed from their horseplay. He had been missing too many of their conversations and jokes to fit in. He watched with envy as Boyd and Kyle laughed and wrestled in the sawdust pile.

Radford went back to chopping bark off a maple tree, but stopped when Duke approached him. “You need something?”