Jeep Cherokee with a "Fordham County Sheriff's Department" logo arrived. I recognized the sheriff right away, average height, medium brown hair a little sunbleached, and dark eyes. Nice-looking guy.
"Professor Fielding," he said, offering me his hand. "This is starting to be a habit with us."
"Hey, don't look at me," I protested, even though I knew it was probably a joke.
The sheriff's face sobered. "You're okay, though?"
"Yes. A little taken aback by it all."
"Why don't you show me where it happened and walk me through it?"
I led him past the working students to where Tichnor had kicked out the lines of that abandoned unit. The sheriff listened to my story, asking a question here and there for clarification, as he scanned the site, the working students, and the river. He walked over to the stairs and had a look at them and then the footprints that were still impressed into the sand. That was what reminded me.
"I don't think I said anything to you about it when I called," I began apprehensively, "but he, Tichnor I mean, said something about Augie Brooks. He said . . . said that I didn't want to end up like Augie Brooks. Does that mean ... do you think he had something to do with ... the body?"
The sheriff shook his head. "I doubt it, he probably just meant dead, is all. The autopsy is scheduled for this afternoon, but it seems pretty clear so far that Augie had an accident. This time, it wasn't one we could save him from. I think our friend Tichnor was adding a little color, is all."
"But what about his threats?" I protested. "He's crazy, certifiable! We can't rely on him to behave rationally enough to want to stay out of trouble! There's too much going on here, all of a sudden."
The sheriff nodded. "We've been looking for him already and now we'll book him for assault, just as soon as we find him. Like I said before, though, he's probably going to do a fade for a while, now that he thinks he's made his point. Just to be on the safe side, there's safety in numbers, don't forget.
"Isn't there anything else we can do?" Out of habit, I reached for my pen to chew on, a security blanket that was socially acceptable in academia, but caught myself and thought the better of it.
"Yes there is. If you and Ms., uh--" Stannard checked Meg's name in his notebook. "Ms. Garrity up there could stop by the sheriff's department later on and look at a few pictures, that would help. Also, if you would be so kind as to write up a couple of descriptions of what happened, it would be a big help."
"I'll do that," I said, determined. "We'll have them for you this evening."
Stannard waved my proposed haste aside. "No hurry. You drop 'em by if you get the chance, or you can mail them in later if that's more convenient."
"You don't seem really troubled by this," I said, annoyed. "I mean, look at what's been going on here--"
"I am troubled, I'm sorry it happened," he broke in. "I'm doing what I can legally do about it all, but the reality of it is, summer brings out the nuts from wherever they hide during the winter. It's what happens." The sheriff saw that I wasn't convinced and continued. "Look, I don't want anything to happen to you, any more than you do, okay? We'll do our best to find him and put everyone's mind at rest."
His eyes strayed back up toward the excavations, and he squinted, trying to concentrate. "So, tell me what's going on here."
"Well, we're trying to identify whether this is the site of Fort Providence, which was built in 1605 as a stronghold, especially against the French--"
"If that's the case, why isn't the Point called Providence today?" the sheriff asked.
Good question, I thought. "Well, the seventeenth-century settlers had had a stormy passage, complete with a couple of sea battles, and were pretty pleased to make it over here alive--hence the name Providence. I suspect the Penitence name came long after, when the area was resettled for good and people tried to farm around here."
We could both hear the ring
"Professor Fielding," he said, offering me his hand. "This is starting to be a habit with us."
"Hey, don't look at me," I protested, even though I knew it was probably a joke.
The sheriff's face sobered. "You're okay, though?"
"Yes. A little taken aback by it all."
"Why don't you show me where it happened and walk me through it?"
I led him past the working students to where Tichnor had kicked out the lines of that abandoned unit. The sheriff listened to my story, asking a question here and there for clarification, as he scanned the site, the working students, and the river. He walked over to the stairs and had a look at them and then the footprints that were still impressed into the sand. That was what reminded me.
"I don't think I said anything to you about it when I called," I began apprehensively, "but he, Tichnor I mean, said something about Augie Brooks. He said . . . said that I didn't want to end up like Augie Brooks. Does that mean ... do you think he had something to do with ... the body?"
The sheriff shook his head. "I doubt it, he probably just meant dead, is all. The autopsy is scheduled for this afternoon, but it seems pretty clear so far that Augie had an accident. This time, it wasn't one we could save him from. I think our friend Tichnor was adding a little color, is all."
"But what about his threats?" I protested. "He's crazy, certifiable! We can't rely on him to behave rationally enough to want to stay out of trouble! There's too much going on here, all of a sudden."
The sheriff nodded. "We've been looking for him already and now we'll book him for assault, just as soon as we find him. Like I said before, though, he's probably going to do a fade for a while, now that he thinks he's made his point. Just to be on the safe side, there's safety in numbers, don't forget.
"Isn't there anything else we can do?" Out of habit, I reached for my pen to chew on, a security blanket that was socially acceptable in academia, but caught myself and thought the better of it.
"Yes there is. If you and Ms., uh--" Stannard checked Meg's name in his notebook. "Ms. Garrity up there could stop by the sheriff's department later on and look at a few pictures, that would help. Also, if you would be so kind as to write up a couple of descriptions of what happened, it would be a big help."
"I'll do that," I said, determined. "We'll have them for you this evening."
Stannard waved my proposed haste aside. "No hurry. You drop 'em by if you get the chance, or you can mail them in later if that's more convenient."
"You don't seem really troubled by this," I said, annoyed. "I mean, look at what's been going on here--"
"I am troubled, I'm sorry it happened," he broke in. "I'm doing what I can legally do about it all, but the reality of it is, summer brings out the nuts from wherever they hide during the winter. It's what happens." The sheriff saw that I wasn't convinced and continued. "Look, I don't want anything to happen to you, any more than you do, okay? We'll do our best to find him and put everyone's mind at rest."
His eyes strayed back up toward the excavations, and he squinted, trying to concentrate. "So, tell me what's going on here."
"Well, we're trying to identify whether this is the site of Fort Providence, which was built in 1605 as a stronghold, especially against the French--"
"If that's the case, why isn't the Point called Providence today?" the sheriff asked.
Good question, I thought. "Well, the seventeenth-century settlers had had a stormy passage, complete with a couple of sea battles, and were pretty pleased to make it over here alive--hence the name Providence. I suspect the Penitence name came long after, when the area was resettled for good and people tried to farm around here."
We could both hear the ring
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