Page 72 of The Woodcarver's Model
“What I know is the boy’s name is Ricky and he accidentally shot a friend of mine, claiming he was aiming at a bear that he thought was going to attack him.”
“I understand the victim is in critical but stable condition in Nanaimo.”
“That’s what I hear. I hope for everyone’s sake he pulls through,” Maggie added.
As she unlocked the door, the officers went to unholster their Smith and Wesson 3953 sidearms.
Maggie looked at them and said, “I don’t think you’ll be needing those.”
Maggie opened the door to reveal Ricky sitting on a small, upholstered armchair, eating some of Maggie’s cookies. A large mug of hot chocolate sat on the side table alongside the remains of a full breakfast.
“Are they here to arrest me?” Ricky said nervously.
“Yes,” Maggie replied.
“Well, it seems like you’ve been treating him well,” Crawley noted.
“As mayor and sole law enforcement officer on the island I felt it was my duty to put the island’s best foot forward.”
“You don’t have a jail cell on Marsh?” Evans asked.
“You’re looking at it. It’s probably the reason I was elected. Seems like I was the only one with a spare room with a lock on the door.”
Sergeant Crawley placed Ricky in handcuffs.
“I suppose they’re mandatory?” Maggie asked.
“Yup,” Crawley said.
Ricky turned to Maggie. “I didn’t mean to cause any trouble.”
“Just you behave yourself with these fine people.”
Crawley led him out of the house.
Maggie picked up Ricky’s dishes and took them into the kitchen.
“I was sorry to hear about Mr Hanson,” Corporal Evans said. “I met him once at the detachment office. He seemed like a nice guy. I just had word that he’s been cleared on that whole African charge.”
“Africa? Do I want to hear about this?” Maggie replied, handing Evans a Tupperware box. “Here. Have some more cookies for the road.”
Maggie walked the corporal to her cruiser. Ricky was secured in the back seat in handcuffs. He nodded to her through the window. Maggie waved back.
“And, Corporal, make sure you give some of those cookies to Ricky.”
* * * *
There was a loud thump at the door. Mitch woke with a start. He was still in his chair. There was a second thump.
“Just a minute,” he mumbled, then tried to stand. His neck was kinked, and his back felt like he had slept on a rock and… Why did his mouth taste like…Whatdid his mouth taste like?
He opened the door to find Maggie, her arms loaded with groceries.
“Frances told me someone noticed your lights on last night and figured you’d come home. I thought you could use these. You unpack and I’ll talk.”
“Sure. Thanks for all this.”
Mitch took the bags from her and she settled down on one of the stools in the kitchen.
