Trails

Chapter 9: Meet Your Sheriff

As soon as the sheriff said these words, Aunt Jessica's smile formed into a gruesome frown.

"What do you mean you have a search warrant?" she snapped. "For the love of pete, I am not involved with the murders of those poor boys!"

The sheriff ignored her remarks and barged into the house.

As Aunt Jessica unfolded the piece of paper, I took a closer look of the sheet.

Everything on the search warrant seemed real, but the signature was forged.

Did the sheriff forged the signature? I thought.

His sheriff badge shone brightly against his brown uniform. The guy also wore sunglasses, untucked socks and black shoes.

His messy brown hair covered the top of his head, a burnt scar smeared across his small nose, and his mouth is swarmed with cold sores.

After setting his hat beside me, he scoured around the room, like a hungry lion.

"Ms. Porter, how long have you been living here?" Sheriff Creep asked.

He shoved his hand in between the cushions, probably looking for a gun or something.

"I lived here for ten years," Aunt Jessica responded coldly.

"What does this have to do with anything?"

Rather than answering her question, the sheriff searched through the drawers, rooms, and cupboards. He seemed like he wants to get this over with.

"She doesn't have a gun," I blurted, earning a look from my aunt.

"Cole, eat your food." my aunt ordered.

I wanted to intervene, but Ben's calm look made me shut up.

"The girl is right," the sheriff sighed, coming downstairs.

"I guess I've been wasting my time in this dump."

"Maybe you need a vacation," Ben suggested bitterly.

Shocked, the sheriff stormed into the dining room and asked him his name.

"Why is the search warrant forged?" I asked coldly.

"Nicole!" Aunt Jessica screamed.

The sheriff looked at me as if I was crazy.

"What the hell are you talking about?" he demanded.

"It's signed by a warrant."

"Shouldn't you have friends to survey the house?" I asked.

"And meanwhile, why does the back of your hand have pen ink?"

"What about it?" he sighed.

"It's the same ink on the paper," I shrugged. "Looks suspicious, right?"

The sheriff bit his tongue and mumbled something under his breath.

Ben smiled at his silent response.

After the sheriff snatched his hat, Aunt Jessica demanded him to leave.

As soon as he left the house, Aunt Jessica slammed the door in front of him.

"What is it between you and the sheriff?" Ben asked.

"Are you two lovers?" I asked.

I expected Aunt Jessica to shake her head, or even demanded us to eat our food.

But instead, she confirmed it. "Shane and I have been dating for weeks, until we broke up last month."

Ben rose his eyebrow in surprise.

"No wonder that bumb seems annoyed." he replied.

Speaking of the sheriff, I asked Aunt Jessica what was going on.

"There has been...murders occurring in Nebraska." she explained. "Murders of young men under the age of thirty."

"How many murders are there so far?" I asked.

"Twenty-two," she shuddered. "This hasn't been the first time that sheriff came to my place."

"What has the police find out?" Ben questioned.

Aunt Jessica looked at both of us strangely.

"You do know that you're both teenagers, right?"

"Yes," I answered. "But, can you tell us anyway?"

She rolled her eyes, but didn't say no.

"The twenty-two men had attended University of Nebraska." she continued.

"They were murdered with farm tools."

"Like the Texas Chainsaw Massacre?" I guessed.

When she gave me a confused look, I chuckled in embarrassment.

"It's a horror movie," I explain shortly.

"Technically, Leatherface used a chainsaw." Ben explained.

"Oh, yeah." I giggled. "My mistake."

Aunt Jessica looked weirdly at us again.

After dinner, I cleared the dishes while Ben wiped the table.

Just as I put the dishes in the dish rack, Aunt Jessica slid over to me and tapped my shoulder.

"Hey," I said. "How-"

"Are you and Ben a thing?" she whispered suddenly.

Her smile never wavered and her eyes bulged excitedly. Her cheerfulness was so freaky that I wondered if she drank too much coffee.

Blushing, I shook my head no. "We've been dating for two or three months, but we decided to break up."

Suddenly, her reaction fell flat.

"Why?" Aunt Jessica asked.

"We didn't like long distant relationships," I replied. "We're planning on going to college."

Her blue eyes brightened when I mention college.

"You got accepted in Princeton?"

I nodded.

"I got accepted in Harvard," Ben answered with a shrug.

"Wow," she whistled. "Those are top notch universities."

"We paid our tuition, finances, and pretty much everything for college." I said.

"It was thanks to Alex Hilton, without him we would have never gotten this far."

Alex Hilton was known for his lavish hotels. During our junior year, he came to us to find the guy who murdered his wife in the 1970s.

After cleaning up, I went upstairs to take a hot shower while Ben and Aunt Jessica watch television.

I took my white t-shirt, blue pajamas, and underwear then walked to the bathroom.

The walls were in a crimson red color, almost reminding me of blood. The bathroom floor had a smooth wooden finish, where small towels curled underneath the sink and the bathtub.

I quietly closed the door and started taking off my shirt. My bare back revealed three black Chinese tattoos. Bravery, Strength, and Wisdom, I thought to myself as I studied the characters.

Sighing to myself, I removed my jeans and shed off my underwear. As I turned the water on, the shower head sputtered cold liquid onto the tub.

Sighing, I dialed the knob to red and climbed the tub. It took me hours scrubbing my damp skin. I gave my damp hair a toss and watched as soap suds slid off of my body and seep into the drain.

After a thick coat of water, I turned the water off and yanked the bath  towel out of the rack. Just then, I heard Ben's urgent voice.

"Cole!" Ben shouted. "There's something you need to see!"