On the last Tuesday of October, a pleasant, friendly young deputy stopped by the old service station, where Wayne and I were setting things up to begin putting on new siding. Wayne heckled him about the squealing brakes on the patrol car – and he handled the teasing well. I liked the young man, and appreciated a new deputy who was learning the area and the people he would be working with.
Before the week was over, that young man was dead, shot near Eureka. I lack the words to describe my annoyance with his murderer.
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