Five Miles to Paradise

35

Early was dead, but Heck didn't know it.

Sumter sent word that Heck was to talk to no one until they'd had a chance to talk. His mysterious message had contained nothing beyond the fact that the Senator wished to see the sheriff. 

Immediately.

Heck had been summoned to Belle Aure. 

It wasn't a real summons, not the paper kind, but to be asked to come to Belle Aure was a summons, all the same.

By the time Heck drove his car down the long pebbled road, the sun was just setting. He knocked on the door. A tall black man answered Heck's knock. 

For the first time in his life, Heck was led beyond the foyer into the library.

The interior of Belle Aure had the ornate splendor of a queen bedecked in royal jewels. The foyer was massive. Twin staircases peeled off to the right and left, leading upstairs and hanging magnificently, as if suspended in thin air. Rich, wool runners of deep, dark hues ran up their centers, cushioning the step of any lucky enough to tread their luxury.

Tiled floors of marble dazzled the eye with soft grays and muted whites. A huge chandelier of cut blue glass crystals held over one hundred candles, its prisms throwing glints of mellow candlelight throughout the grand entry way. Rich fabrics and oriental rugs created an amazing array of color and texture.

Heck was ushered into Sumter's library. Wall-to-wall bookshelves ran from floor to ceiling. Soft leather sofas and high back reading chairs, a massive walnut desk. Electric lights cast muffled light about the space.

"Sit down, Sheriff," Sumter said.

He was dressed in a white shirt with a black tie and coat. The tailor had measured perfectly, and the coat stressed Sumters strong, broad shoulders. A large black silk arm band circled his upper arm. He was drinking bourbon from a crystal whiskey glass.

"Thank ya."

"Moses will pour ya a drink."

"No. I'm fine. Thanks just the same."

"A toast, then. I think I'm drunk enough to toast solo. Here's to Early. Brightest flame. Extinguished now. God rest her soul. It is certain you never got rest here on earth, my lovely. Perhaps, wherever you are now, you will find peace."

"Sumter. I'm sorry. Of course, I couldn't know. Maybe I ought to come back tomorrow. You're in no shape for comp'ny. I think I better go."

"No," Sumter bellowed. "No," he said softly. "Excuse my outburst, Sheriff. You must stay awhile. You must. I think I would go crazy without someone here. You must forgive me, sir. I am more than a little drunk. Moses, I need a refill."

***

Moses silently refilled the empty glass with golden liquid.

"Moses, where is Erling?" Heck asked.

"Erling? Erling. Ah, yes. The prodigal son," Sumter said.

"Beg pardon, Sumter," Heck said.

"Erling! Erling! Erling, that blonde example of Southern manhood," Sumpter said. "Best damn houseboy I ever had!

Erling!

Erling!

He was raised by the coloreds, you know, even though he is as white as you or I. Talks like them, too. Couldn't help that, I suppose. Always got under my skin, but I let it go. Pick your battles, I always say. No sense in fighting that one, I can assure you!

I mean, what were we to do?

We had no choice! We simply had no choice! God, Early raised hell. But Father was adamant.