Kate McCannon’s Husband
The sheriff isn't quite frustrated, but frustration is a place just around the corner.
"You wouldn't believe me, anyway," the suspect sighs.
"Try me."
"How come? You know I did it. Everybody knows I did it."
"What I don't know is why."
"Is it important?"
"Well, we got an angry father and all his redneck buddies ready to storm this building and hang you or burn you or both. So, yeah. Why you killed Tom McCannon's girl fucking matters. Right now I'm the only thing standing in the way of you never being here tonight, if you can pick up what I'm puttin' down, son."
"Maybe it's better you just open up the front door and let them in or let me out. I deserve it."
"Yeah. Maybe you do. But I got a job that the people of this county elected me to do, and it will take more than a domestic gone sideways for me to violate an oath."
"Oaths ain't worth the paper a bible is printed on, Sheriff."
The sheriff nods and shrugs his shoulders. "For bein' so flimsy, them pages sure do cut folks all the time, I'll give ya that." The lawman sits down and puts his elbows on the table, leaning in. He searches the suspect's face. "So you shot her for cheatin'?"
"Sure."
"What the fuck you mean, 'sure'? Sure is what my kid says to me when his face is glued to the idiot box and I tell 'im to take out the garbage. Sure is what you say when you'll get that burger with cheese, afterall. Sure is not what you say when I'm askin you about doin' murder." Frustration is no longer around the corner. It has come to pay a visit, and it looks like it won't be going anywhere else soon.
"Yeah, put down on paper that I killed Kate because she was a cheatin', lyin' whore who never shoulda been made my wife."
The sheriff nods. "So she was fuckin' around on you."
"And I shot her."
"What about the man she was with?"
"He's the one turned her against me. Against us all. Reckon I got him, too, but he ran off before I could be sure."
"Who was he?"
The man shrugs. "Dunno. My guess is you'll have a body turn up near the creek, though. Just look for the naked asshole with a silver .38 slug somewhere in him."
"Silver?"
"Yeah. Loaded it myself. Great-grammie's Gorham sterling."
"Why the fuck would you do that?" Frustration bleeds into worry, and fear drips along a cold sweat along the brow.
"Bossman, you ever got called out to look at cattle that's been all ripped up? I seen 'em drivin over to the mine from time to time."
"Sure, but what's that got to do with Kate?" The sheriff already knew.
"You realize we ain't got a coyote problem in them woods or pastures. Ain't never had one. But you wouldn't believe me, anyway."
The thing of it is, the sheriff believes him plenty, and no paperwork ever showed that Kate Mcannon's husband was in custody. Any surveillance video that would have showed him being handed over to Kate's daddy found itself disappeared, and the sheriff figures he and God can sort out the details of oaths on Sunday.
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(this story was inspired by the song linked below, "Kate McCannon," by Colter Wall.)