Page 16 of Where the Fields Don’t Reach

“I’m just running late for lunch, that’s all. I had a class this morning at Emberwood, and I’m supposed to be at the Vinton place at one. I was just hoping to grab a quick lunch before driving out that way.”

“And last week?”

“Um, I’m not making excuses, but I⁠—”

“License and registration, please.”

Hadley was almost certain that she heard him groan in protest, already accepting that he was going to have to explain a hundred-and-ten-dollar speeding ticket to his parents. He released the steering wheel, leaned to his left, and retrieved his wallet. He pulled out his license and handed it to her before reaching for the glove compartment.

At least he was wise enough to keep his registration handy.

Hadley took both documents and stepped back from the window. She’d have to write the citation longhand, though she had received an email from Sheriff Turner advising her to be on the lookout for a package this week. The state had approved the equipment grant that the county had been waiting on for the better part of two years, which meant the department could finally be fully electronic. The tablet would not only make her job easier but also more efficient.

“…just wish the chief of police would focus on real crime instead of handing out speeding tickets.”

Hadley didn’t alter her gait. She paused to allow for another vehicle to pass them before opening her driver’s side door. She settled in the seat and reached into the console, retrieving her citation book. It took her the better part of ten minutes to write everything out, from the violation to Matt’s information off his license to the boxes the county required for court. Once the tablet arrived, the same citation would take less than three minutes. She’d merely scan his license at the window. The system would then automatically pull his information. She would tap the violation code, and the dash-mounted printer would push the citation out before she had finished walking back to her vehicle.

She completed the citation with her signature, but didn’t tear it off the pad. Matt’s signature was needed, as well. She made sure to have everything in hand as she exited her vehicle and slammed the door shut. His parting shot needed a little more context, so when she came to a stop beside him, she requested just that.

“Matt,” Hadley said as she handed him his license and registration. “What did you mean by real crime?”

Matt clearly hadn’t expected her to call him out on the disrespect. She studied his face, currently going through the small sequence of recalibrations a twenty-year-old boy’s face goes through when he realizes he probably pushed too hard. He glanced away from her as he continued to hold his documents.

“I’m sorry about that. It was nothing, Chief Dawkins.”

“Try again, Matt.”

“It’s just…well, last Friday, Katie went out with Josh Delane to the old hickory near Vinton’s east field. They were just hanging out, not drinking or anything like that, but she came home early. Said she and Josh had seen something in the cornfields.”

“Can she identify the person?”

“That’s the thing,” Matt said, tapping his license on the steering. “Katie thinks it was the Threshing Man.”

Hadley resisted the urge to close her eyes in resignation. She’d grown up with the stories, but she hadn’t lied to Julian this morning. The urban legend was like a long-lost relative at this point. No one could let him go, not even the younger generation.

“I know what you’re thinking, and you’d be right,” Matt said with a shrug. “Katie overreacted, as usual. I promised her that I’d look around this weekend while I was helping out Mr. Vinton, and I found some boot prints about thirty feet away from the pull-off. Someone was definitely trespassing on Mr. Vinton’s property, not that Katie believes me.”

Matt took his time putting his license in his wallet and the registration back in the glove compartment. He held out his hands for the pen and citation book.

“I didn’t mean anything by⁠—”

“Did you tell Vinton you found evidence of someone trespassing in his fields?”

“Yeah,” Matt murmured, still waiting for her to hand over the paperwork. “He knows. Look, I really don’t want to be late for⁠—”

“What was Vinton’s reaction?” Hadley asked, noting Matt’s change in demeanor. “Is there a reason he didn’t call me?”

“I don’t want⁠—”

“Matt, you’re the one who’s making this take longer than necessary.”

“Mr. Vinton said that you weren’t going to do anything about it anyway,” Matt finally fessed up, adjusting his ball cap with unease. “It’s why I mouthed off earlier. I shouldn’t have⁠—”

“Stop,” Hadley directed him, unable to defend her current role as Police Chief. Reed hadn’t given Earl Vinton any reason to believe that Whistlerun’s law enforcement would follow through with its responsibilities. “I do not ever want to pull you over again, Matt. Are we clear?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Matt muttered, his attention focused on the citation pad. “We are clear.”

“No more speeding.”