If Catfish Had Nine Lives(9)

            “It startled us all,” Gram added. “And then we all were uncertain and confused as to what was going on, or what we thought might be going on.” Gram shook her head. “Then we saw the fella on the ground. It was bad.”

            “I’m so sorry,” I said.

            The door to Stuart’s shop flew open, causing the bell above it to ring at the same time as it slammed into the wall. We all jumped and turned.

            “Everyone here all right?” Officer Jenkins said. He was wearing jeans and a T-shirt. He normally worked the night shift at the jail. He’d probably been roused when the murder had occurred and hadn’t had time to put on either his uniform or the more casual cowboy gear.

            “We’re all right,” Gram said after she looked at each of us for a confirming nod or blink.

            “Good. I’d like for you to all come with me. We’re gathering as many people as possible at the jail so we can take statements and get contact information in a timely manner.”

            “I was just here in my shop, Officer,” Stuart said. “I didn’t see or hear anything. May I just stay here? I won’t leave until you okay it.”

            Officer Jenkins wasn’t from Broken Rope. He also wasn’t as conditioned as Jim, or even Cliff, who was fairly new to the force, at keeping a neutral facade. Concern and suspicion pinched at his eyes as he glanced outside.

            “No, sir, we’d like to talk to everyone there,” he said.

            I interpreted that this was code for “We don’t know if everyone is safe from danger yet and we’d like everyone where we can see them.” A glance at Gram told me I wasn’t the only one reading in between the lines.

            “Come on, we’ll be nice and cozy in there, but I imagine they won’t keep us long—will you, Jenkins?” Gram said.

            “No, ma’am, we’ll have you out of there as quickly as possible.”

            “Let’s go,” Gram said.

            As we exited the shoe repair shop, I saw Jerome standing beside the entrance to the Jasper Theater, which was the spot where I’d originally noticed him on his first visit to Broken Rope. The theater was only two doors down from Stuart’s, but I thought that Gram might have been in too much of a hurry to get everyone to the jail to notice that he’d returned. If she saw or smelled him, she didn’t give any indication. I lagged behind the group and then hurried to him.

            I didn’t hesitate to reach for his arm, and then his hand, and then his shoulder. My own hand went through him every time. There was nothing solid under my touch.

            Jerome watched my movements, but didn’t comment. When I finished he said, “I think you’re fine for now, Isabelle. I can’t go into the jail, but I’ll be close by.”

            “Why could you help me with the fish in the woods, Jerome? Why could I feel you? It wasn’t dark.”

            “I don’t know, darlin’,” Jerome said as he moved his hand gently toward my face, but he pulled it back before it got even halfway. “I don’t have any idea.”

            I put my hands on my hips and looked around. I didn’t know how the jail was going to hold everyone who’d been in town, but the boardwalk was emptying quickly.

            “What about everyone else? I’d like to know that everyone is okay,” I said.

            Jerome sighed. “Can’t help you there, Isabelle. I wish I could.”

            I wished he could, too.

            “We’ll talk more later?” I said.