Page 35 of The Christmas Extra
I glanced at Teddy as he rubbed his thigh. “You sure that’s okay?”
“Yeah, I checked it when I took a piss behind a tree. It didn’t break the skin, but man is there a bruise coming up already. Size of my fist it is. Fucking pigs.”
“Yeah, I may never eat bacon again.” That was a total lie. I loved bacon. I’d better because the Buttermans had given us each ten pounds of the stuff as well as an Easter ham for our valiant efforts. “Looks like all the extras are needed by the tree on the green.”
He gaped at me. “Now?”
I nodded and looked down at my filthy clothes. I was coated with mud and pig shit from chasing meat hogs through diversion ditches for several hours. If whoever snipped that fencing did it again, I would taser their asses for the sheer joy of it. Probably bored teenagers. This kind of stupid vandalism happened all the time. There was little for kids to do around here, so they got into trouble like this and from knocking down mailboxes from their cars. The pasture was a mess, as a small feeder for a nearby creek ran through it. Given that we’d arrived a few hours after the pigs were free, there was no chance of finding any evidence.
“I’m going to go home and change,” I said and got a firm nod from Teddy. The stink rolling off us would not endear us to the production crew and anyone else in a hundred-yard radius. Nothing quite as glamorous as being a small-town sheriff.
Teddy climbed into the passenger seat while I flopped behind the steering wheel. The windows were frosty, so we sat and waited, wet muddy clothes sticking to our calves, as the engine slowly warmed.
“Did you notice that Belinda Butterman gave me some extra side pork?” Teddy asked as we sat there shivering in our shitty boots. I rolled my head wearily to the right to give him the driest look that I possessed. He glanced up from his phone. His wind-chapped cheeks flushed a deeper red. “I’m not thinking of anything bad. She’s just nice. Sweet, you know. Cute with them freckles and red hair.”
“She’s also got four brothers that will beat you like a dime-store rug if you get out of line.”
“No, no, I’m not thinking of asking her out forthat. I meant it when I said I was giving up women and wine.”
“Teddy, Belinda is a woman.” I felt it prudent to remind him.
“Oh sure, well, I meant fast women.”
I could foresee a near future when four massive hog farmers came looking for my deputy with fire in their eyes. I hoped Teddy’s bite was healed by then because he was going to have run damn fast.
***
In all honesty—andaside from the throngs of people everywhere—our tiny town green had never looked more festive. Sure, it was all a bit much. Still, the massive pine that was all set and ready to go as if it were the gargantuan fir at Rockefeller Plaza was breathtaking. Our usual trees were dwarfed in comparison to this behemoth. Where they’d found it I had no clue but it was a stunning blue spruce, perfectly shaped, and festooned with thousands of delicate glass balls, strings of lights yet to be lit, and enough garland to reach from here to the state capitol.
People milled about, all in winter coats and hats, gloves and mittens, snow boots and mukluks. Stands sold hot cocoa and soft pretzels. A few dogs on leashes could be seen sniffing strangers’ boots as kids were being told where to stand by harried-looking parents. There was even music playing. An old Bing Crosby tune extolling the beauty of Christmas in Hawaii. With the frosty temps and little flakes falling from the sky, Rockmount looked nothing like Honolulu.
“There you are!” I was torn from my perusal of my town by Mignon. He skittered up to me, frantic by the looks, and waved a mittened hand at the trailers parked on Main Street. “Tony has been trying to reach you all day. The man is beside himself.”
“There’s no cell service out on the pig farm. Joys of rural living,” I replied and got a sassy look. “I told him where I was going.”
“Well, yes, but when he sent you several texts and didn’t get a reply, he assumed the worst.”
“Just like his mother.” I sighed but was touched that the man fretted so.
“Exactly. He’s sure you were eaten by a pig.” I stared at him openly. “What? It happens. I’ve seen it several times as plot devices on shows. Kill someone you dislike and then feed them to the pigs. Evidence gone! Seems a lawman would know such things.”
“Okay, well, yes, pigs are omnivores and so they would and could eat a human being, but that human would have to be unconscious or dead. I am, the last I checked, neither of those two things, so I’m not overly worried about being on the porcine menu.”
He huffed as he tapped away on his tablet. “There, he knows that you’re alive and well. I told him to meet us by the steamed peanut vendor. So please just stay put so he can find you and calm his emotions.”
Off he went into the mass of humanity. Since I’d been told to stay put, I did just that, taking a peek into the peanut vendor’s steamy glass display atop his cart. The peanuts did not appear to be real, which kind of sucked because I was starving.
“There you are!” I glanced over my shoulder to see a woman in bold black glasses with frizzy black hair charging up to me. “Why aren’t you in wardrobe?! Sasha is ready to film and our town cop is in jeans and an old flannel coat.”
“I was told not to move by my...Tony,” I explained to whoever this was. Her lanyard said she was Ruth Raynard, Social Media Consultant to Sasha Faye. Ah, a lady-in-waiting. “Why does Sasha care if I’m here or not?”
“Because you’re supposed to stand right behind her and Tony when they kiss. Did you not read the script?! Seriously, this is just...ugh! I hate my job. Oh great, now look. She’s heading our way with that constipated look on her—Sasha! I found the cop! I love that pink beret on you.”
Sasha Faye stalked up to me with Tony right on her heels. She planted herself directly in front of me, tipped her head back, and said...nothing. Just stared up at me. I glanced over at Tony, who stepped around his ex-wife wearing a look of utter exasperation.
“Stillman, they need you over in wardrobe,” he said while Gayle was trying to hide behind the peanut cart. I peeked down at Sasha, who was still glaring at me silently.
“Is my head on backward?” I asked the TV star.