"Hold on a minute, Jodie! Hold on! Let's— Let's not—We better talk this over! Sheriff, don't you aim—"
"Mister Jodie, regardless of what happened Sunday night, or what was said yesterday, or who killed this squirrel y'all been talking about, I'll have to ask you to come back to town with me for questioning. We've got to get to the bottom of this!"
I looked up at Mister Wes. His face had turned red, and he was breathing loud as a horse. I looked back at Papa. His face had gone white, and he was hardly breathing a-tall! He reached to jerk his hat off its hook.
"Come on, Sheriff! Let's go! I'm just as anxious as anybody to get this tangle straight! Once and for all!" As Papa started toward the door, he stuck his hand in his pocket and pulled out his keys. He handed them to Uncle Dan.
"Dan, I'll have to get you to lock up for me."
"Sure, Jodie, if you say so."
"Papa, you going to town?"
"That's right, sugar."
"But you gotta see all my shells first!" I grabbed my best shell and ran to Papa. "Stray did give me his newest one, Papa! The one outta Mister Hawk's gun when he was shooting Mister Ward. It still smells good, too! See?"
I held the shell up for Papa to smell. He wouldn't take it. He just stood there looking down at me.