Vegas Nerve A Sheriff Milt Kovak Mystery

Chapter One First Thursday - Prophesy County Okay," I said, more to myself than Emmett Hopkins, my second-in-command. "There's the monthly report, and there's the keys." I looked around my office, the office of the sheriff of Prophesy County, Oklahoma. "Maybe I should" "Milt," Emmett said. "You showed me everything. Now go." I was on the verge of my first vacation since my honeymoon four years ago, and I was antsy. It wasn't Emmett; he used to be police chief of Longbranch, the county seat of Prophesy County, so he knew what he was doing. I guess I was just hoping he didn't do a better job than me and that, if he did, none of the voters would notice. "Okay," I said again, taking a long, last look around. "You got everything you need? You know how to reach me?" "I got your cell phone, Jean's e-mail address, the fax number at the hotel, and, if worse comes to worst, Milt, I can do it the old-fashioned way and just call you up at the hotel." "Okay, then," I said and shook hands with Emmett, my best guy friend in the world, and hoped he wouldn't try to take my job while I was gone. "Oh, Milt, wait," Emmett said, digging in his pocket and bringing out a ten. "On black fourteen," he said and grinned. I was headed out, stopping at Gladys's deskshe's our civilian clerkgiving her some last-minute instructions, when she slipped me a quarter and said, "Any slot will do. I was gonna give it to Maida when her and Burl went, but I didn't get a chance to see her before they took off." Maida Upshank was Gladys and my cousin-in-common. Me and Gladys were no blood relation, I'm happy to say. Maida was my third or whatever cousin on my mama's side, Maida's daddy's side, and Gladys was a first cousin on Maida's mama's side. "When'd they go?" I asked. "Couple a days ago. They're staying with Denise," she said, who I knew was Maida and Burl's youngest child and only daughter. "You got Denise's number?" she said, while jotting it down on a while-you-were-out slip. "You should call 'em while y'all are there." I took the number offered with no intention of calling, since Maida and me had been only wedding-and-funeral cousins for the last decade, and was headed out the door when it slammed open, almost knocking me down. Harriet Barstow barged in, which was quite a feat considering she was using a walker. By my reckoning, Miz Barstow was in her early eighties. She was wearing a lime green polyester pantsuit, Nike running shoes that had seen better days, and carrying a purse that had to weigh at least ten pounds. She was hunched over her walker and scowling fit to beat the band. Seeing me, she yelled, "Sheriff! I want you to arrest my husband!" "What seems to be the problem, Miz Barstow?" I asked, guiding her toward one of the benches. She shoved my arm away and stood her ground. "He's been trying to crawl into my bed! And I just won't have it! You hear me, Sheriff? I won't have it! He's been running aroCooper, Susan Rogers is the author of 'Vegas Nerve A Sheriff Milt Kovak Mystery', published 2007 under ISBN 9780312356033 and ISBN 031235603X.