Nano Day 7 .. an excerpt

I turned to see the local sheriff's car pull up. A tall, stern man who looked like he could bench-press snarling rottweilers got out of the driver's side, his boots shiny and uniform looking freshly ironed, the badge gleaming as he walked over.

      A shorter balding man got out the passenger side: He was thin and wiry and even sported a cowboy hat over rather more rumpled clothing, having an air about him of someone who'd seen most everything the town had to offer and wasn't prepared to be surprised by any of it.

      The sheriff ambled over and the locals parted without thinking, the truck driver removing his hat and looking like he wanted to chew more of the brim off in worry. The patrons of the McDonalds slipped back inside slowly but steadily, showing a natural distrust of the law I found curious: I'd have bet good money that the local law enforcement only did what the Klein family asked of them.

      The deputy wandered into the McDonalds, nodding amicably to people and talking statements. I just moved off to the side, throwing up a protecting circle around Damien the buffer him against emotions and saw his shoulders sag a little in relief.

      "Sheriff John Cassidy," the Sherrif said briskly. "Someone mind explaining the call we got about a hit and run?"

      The driver, whose name turned out to be Simon Saundersen, stumbled over barely seeing Damien jump out in front of him, trying to break, something hitting the window, but each statement was a little more hesitant than the last as his brain tried to parse someone being thrown into the path of the truck by an force unseen to him.

      "You throw something at the window, mister ...?" the Sheriff said, turning to Damien.

      "Daimen. I didn't see the truck when I was crossing the road," he lied, looking pale and shaken. That he was seventy pounds of nothing in a baggy sweater and coat helped hide that there were too many tears in the clothing for him to have no scrapes at all.

      The sheriff grunted. "We'll need to take you down to the station for questions anyway; insurance companies like stuff to be formal," he said, then added: ''Sides, it's a slow day so far and we're got coffee to spare," which disarming honestly.

      Damien just nodded, trying not to look worried as he glanced over at me.

      The sheriff glanced over, eyes narrowing. "You were walking with him, sir?" he said.

      I nodded.

      "I trust you have a name?" the Sheriff added.

      "Aiden Nel," I said, handing over my wallet when he held out his hand.

      "Long way from Canada, boy, " he said, handing it back. "You're that quack Klein hired."

      "I'm an exorcist, yes," I said.

      "Well, Simon here seems mighty confused by how your friend ended up in front of his truck across one lane so darned quick," the sheriff said, slipping into a stereotype with ease. "You reckon it could be ghosts?"

      I smiled brightly. "If the dead went about shoving the living into traffic I think you'd have a lot more fatalities, don't you?"