Let the fun continue.! This is the 83rd installment of a continuing fictional story. Before each new segment, the last paragraph from the prior edition will be shown in quotations.,
“ I didn’t know then what he found that day at the hardware store. But it sure as hell convinced him that Polk was responsible. What I didn’t understand, was why had no one arrested Polk that day if there had been some sort of evidence. Why?”

By C.L. Harmon
True to his word, Letters was at Polk’s bright and early. I know because I was there. I left my house as soon as my father left for work. It was still dark, but I had been there so many times over the years that I knew my way to Polk’s house with my eyes closed. He had come alone. There were no deputies to back him up or FBI to make an arrest.
Letters arrived just after sunrise. I watched from the edge of the woods as he briskly walked to the front door. There was no hesitation in his steps. He was obviously still angry from the night before. I bet he hadn’t slept a wink all night. He took the porch steps two at a time and upon reaching the door, he banged on it with the butt of the shotgun he was carrying.
“Polk! Polk!” His voice was strong, loud and a tad raspy as though he had smoked too many cigarettes to quickly. “It’s Sheriff Letters! I need to talk with you.” He began to call Polk’s name again when the door opened. Polk was pulling up his suspenders and had a look of total surprise with a hint of agitation.
“What the hell is it you want?” His tone matched that of Letters’, but it was apparent that he did not have all his faculties straight as the banging on the door clearly awoke him from sleep. Before Polk could say anything else, Letters had spun him around and began handcuffing him. Letters was not even aware that Polk’s two youngest children were watching. As quickly as he had handcuffed Polk, Selma showed the same type of urgency when she rushed around the corner, closing her robe and ordering the children to their rooms.
“Sheriff Letters!” She exclaimed loudly. “What is the meaning of all this?”
“Ma’am, I am arresting your husband for Destruction of Private Property and anything else I can think of!” He was using a much calmer voice than he had while knocking, but it was still stern and strong. I had crept up to the side of the barn to get a closer look at what was happening and be in earshot.
“Destruction of what property? Whose property? Sheriff, what are you talking about?” She was sincerely at a loss for what was happening. I could tell from her expressions that she had no clue. Apparently Polk had the same look on his face as well, but I couldn’t see his face. Once Letters took a breath and calmed himself, he must have noticed this too.
“Where were you yesterday Polk? Were you in town?” Selma immediately snapped an answer.
“No Sir! We were in Texas yesterday…just across the state line. Gone before sun up and got home some few hours ago. Did something happen in town yesterday sheriff? She then directed her attention to Polk. “Polk, do you know what he is talking about?” Polk resounded with a ‘hell no!’
Letters reached under his hat and scratched his head. He knew that Polk might lie to him, but not Selma. “Give me your word Polk that you were in Texas yesterday…ALL DAY…and that you had nothing to do with blowing up the hardware store. Swear it Polk!”