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Chapter 4
Fudge Hershey stepped away from the table, snapped the locks shot on the front door and pulled the curtain down. Any remnants of frivolity which may have been evident a minute earlier were now gone. Her demeanor was now a mixed bag of detective and priest, alternately grilling for information and listening for revelation of mortal sin. Tom Meyer had information that she needed, and she intended to get it.
"Tom, tell me how you know my daughter."
She was now walking behind the counter, and he saw her reach under the counter briefly. She produced a pack of Winston Light 100's and started to light one as she walked back over to their table.
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Hershey, but I've never met your daughter. If she were to walk into the room right now, you'd have to introduce us. I've honestly never met her. "
Tom was now staring into the woman's eyes, and she didn’t blink.
"If I believe you, Tom, will you tell me how you know this to be true?" She fiddled with her fingers as she spoke, looking away from him. “I think you can understand that it's not easy for me to believe that a total stranger can walk into my establishment and drop a bombshell like this on me. Let's just say that you have a little bit of a credibility problem...."
Her voice trailed off at the end. Tom sighed and scratched his head, trying to decide how much to tell her. He was drawing her into this, also, and he wasn't sure that he'd be able to protect her. The last thing he wanted to be responsible for was some lunatic lawman walking into her cafe some evening, turning out the lights and blowing her head all over the kitchen. Worse than that, he realized that the man was fully capable of doing it.
"I'd really rather not tell you. I don't think I can guarantee your safety. I'd like to speak to your daughter, if you think she's capable of dealing with this kind of news. Please, help me, Edwina, please tell me where I can find her."
The expression on Edwina Hershey's face was now a reflection of shock, anger and total desperation. She abruptly stood up, reached into her apron pocket, and produced a .32 snub-nosed Smith & Wesson, which she pointed directly between Thomas Meyer’s eyes.
"O.K., fun's over, asshole. Now, you've got exactly thirty seconds to tell me who's going to hurt my daughter, or two things will happen. First, I will use every power I can summon to put a bullet in your cranium, and second, I will call Sheriff Pittman to come over and collect your remains. Your choice, but whatever you decide, do it quick, because I'm just about out of patience with you! "
Tom sat holding his teacup, looking down at the table. Slowly, his sad eyes gazed up at her.
"If you pull that trigger, you'll kill three people, not one. I have no desire to hurt you or your daughter. When I stopped in here, all I wanted was a meal and use of the telephone. Fact is, I am probably the only chance you have of staying alive. If you tell Sheriff Pittman what I am about to tell you, you sentence us all to death. Mrs. Hershey, I saw your son-in-law kill a man last night, and I don’t think he’s finished."
Tom lowered his eyes and waited for her reaction. Fudge’s face now betrayed her bravado as she laid the pistol on the table. Slowly, the bewildered woman sat down across the table from this stranger.
“Tom, I’m sorry. What are our options?”
For the next few minutes, Edwina Hershey sat motionless and listened as Tom related the events of the preceding afternoon. Tom watched, as little by little, she volunteered information that pieced together the warning signs she’d seen during the past six months. The emotional distance between Luther and Brenda was not imagined.
“I need to talk to my daughter, Tom-- alone, please. I thought something was going on, but I didn’t want to be a meddling old hen. I’m going over there and warn her. Then, I’m going to find Luther and give him a chance to explain. If what you say is true, I’ll kill him myself. I don’t know who you are, or why you’re here. You could be God or the Devil and I wouldn’t know the difference until you play your hand. But I’ll tell you this, if you’re lying to me, you’d best be gone when I get back.”
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