Protector - Laurel Dewey [125]
“Gotta shove off,” the sheriff said. He got up and lingered closer to Emily. “You take care of yourself, sweetiepie. Come on over and visit us at the station. I’ll let you sit in my big swivel chair!”
“Really?” Emily exclaimed, in awe. “Mom, can we go there after breakfast?”
“Maybe another time. The Sheriff’s got to go on patrol while his deputy is on break.” It took Jane less than a second to realize she screwed up. She was so used to hearing and saying the code ‘10–7’—which means, “I’m going on a break”—that it became normal conversation to her. Emily looked at Jane and realized something was not right by the look on her face.
“Well, I must say,” said Sheriff George, obviously taken aback, “you must be a mind reader.”
Jane nervously sipped her coffee under the watchful eye of the sheriff and Emily. “Mind reader? No, no. Just a lucky guess.”
There was a second of uncomfortable silence and then Emily spoke up. “Mom! I think the car is out of gas.”
“What?” Jane asked, not catching Emily’s attempt to get them out of there.
“Our car is out of gas,” Emily repeated, this time more pointedly. “Shouldn’t we go fill it up?”
Jane caught the drift. “Right. We need to take care of that.”
“If you’ve got your ‘Howdy’ coupon book, you can fill up your tank at The Apple Cart and get ten percent off!” the sheriff proudly stated, buying their ruse.
To be on the safe side, Jane visited The Apple Cart and filled up the tank. It was a wise decision since Sheriff George did indeed drive by the establishment, waving at the two of them. Inside the store, Emily spotted an extra large fanny pack that would safely accommodate Jane’s pistol without drawing attention to it. In the car, Jane debated how much she should tell Emily about the backhanded innuendos from Sheriff George and Kathy. But she determined the whole subject would be too complex for Emily to digest. “I don’t want you going over to see Sheriff George.”
“But he said I could sit in his big swivel chair.”
“I don’t trust him.” Jane turned onto Main Street and headed back to the house.
“How come?”
“It’s not always what people say. It’s what they do. In fact, it’s often more important what a person does, than what he says. It’s called reading people. Sort of like reading a book, but instead of reading the language in a book, you’re reading the language of their body.”
Emily was intrigued by the notion. “Like back at the house when I crossed my arms in front of my body? How you said I was cutting you off?”
“Exactly. As a cop, we always look for those signs because perps . . . I mean, criminals, are always lying verbally. However, a criminal can tell a million verbal lies, but his body will always speak the truth.”
“How does someone’s body tell a lie?”
“Lots of ways. If he looks to the left and down, that’s usually a lie.”
“So, everybody who looks to the left and down is telling a lie?”
“No. You have to look at the whole picture. Scratching the nose is another indication of lying. Or licking the lips continually. If somebody is telling you something and looking to the left and down while he’s scratching his nose and nervously licking his lips, then you’ve probably got a good lie going. But there’s other nuances you look for. You listen to the tone of their voice. Does it sound like the truth?”
“What does the truth sound like?”
“It’s pure.”
“Pure?”
Jane thought for a second. “Your voice is pure.”
“Really?” Emily said, beaming. She looked out the window. “So you don’t want me to go sit in Sheriff George’s big swivel chair because his voice isn’t pure?”
Jane needed to handle this one carefully. “His voice is usually pure. But there are times when he says two different things in one sentence. And one of those things is not pure.” Jane focused a block ahead toward the rental house and saw a car with two occupants parked in front. “Who in the hell is that?”
Emily looked up. “It’s Kathy and Heather.”
“Shit!” Jane mumbled under her breath. She turned into her driveway and parked the car under the shade of the large cottonwood tree. Kathy popped out of her car carrying