Winston pulled into the parking lot behind the newspaper office, then swore when he couldn’t find an empty space. He drove around front and parked down the street and walked back toward the office. Downtown was coming to life, and he nodded to people on the sidewalk. The sun had warmed the air, but the mountains overlooking the town stood out sharp and clear against the brilliant blue sky. An older couple walked briskly by dressed so brightly they seemed to emanate light; she in a purple pantsuit with a straw hat, orange socks and tennis shoes, he in a canary yellow sweater and lime green pants that stopped an inch or two above white socks stuck into brown Oxfords.

The tourists are already trickling in, Winston thought sourly as he stopped in front of the two-story brick building with a faded green sign proclaiming “Jupiter Weekly Planet” stretching over the double glass doors. He pondered for a moment, sighed, and headed across the street. He crossed the small town square and noted that the leaves on the maples dotting the square were full and lush. Spring at last, he thought.

He cut across another street and strode up a wide set of steps into a modern, concrete and glass building. He swung open the door and closed it behind him. He unlatched a low gate next to a wide counter and stepped through, nodding at a squat woman with red hair sitting in front of a microphone and surrounded by radio gear. She nodded back.

“Howdy, Ruth Ann. What’s up?”

“Just my weight.” She grimaced down at her snug uniform. “Not much, Winston. How you’uns doin’?”

“Passable, Ruth Ann. He in?”

“Yep.”

“Now, hold on there just a minute, Winston.” This came from a tall, skinny man sitting in front of a computer near a closed door with the word “Sheriff” embossed in gold letters. “You gotta state your business with me before I can let you see the sheriff.”

“Is that a fact, Elrod?” He studied the young deputy. “You look awful busy, so I didn’t want to bother you.”

Elrod Dunwoody flushed. He looked back down at his computer screen.

“Play the jack of clubs on the queen of hearts, Elrod.”

“Huh? What?”

Winston scuttled past Elrod’s desk. Before Elrod could protest, he had knocked on the wooden door and twisted the knob, pushing his way in.

“Sheriff, a moment of your time, if I may,” he said. Elrod followed Winston into the office.

“Sheriff, he just barged on through. I tried to stop him, but…”

“It’s all right, Elrod. Go on back to your, um, work.”

Elrod flashed Winston a hurt look as he closed the door behind him.

“So what can I do for the press this morning?” Sheriff Rufus Hayes was a large man even by rural law enforcement standards, standing six foot four and tipping the scales at close to 300 pounds. He had been quite a football player in his youth, having made all-state as a defensive lineman for Jupiter High way back when. He had tapped his early popularity to make a name for himself in politics; he had been sheriff for 21 years and nobody even ran against him in elections any more.

“Sheriff, I, um, was checking to see if you had any reports of any, er, unusual sightings last night.”

“Unusual sightings?”

“Yessir.”

“Such as?”

“Um, such as, um, lights.”

“Lights?”

“Yeah, you know, bright lights. In the sky.”

“Bright lights in the sky.” Hayes rummaged on his desk and glanced through some papers. “Naw, don’t see nothing here. Nobody’s reported anything about lights in the sky.”

He looked levelly at Winston. “Why? You been seeing flying saucers?”

Winston waited for the smirk. Hayes stared at him impassively.

“No, sir. Not me. Nell Fleck. She says one landed out at her place last night. Wants me to do a story on it.”

“You goin’ to?”

“Dunno.” Winston shifted uneasily from foot to foot. “I wanted to see if anybody else had seen anything.”

Now the sheriff smirked. “You mean you wanted to see if anybody else is damn fool enough to report seeing little green men.” He sighed heavily and leaned back in his padded swivel chair. “You know, Moss, we get all kinds of crackpot reports in here. I know you know, ‘cause I let you see all the reports. So you know how it is. People are people. Sometimes they see things. Sometimes they think they see things.”

He sighed again and ran a hand through his brush-cut gray hair. He tugged at his tie to loosen it; Rufus Haynes did not wear a uniform, but then he didn’t need one. “This Fleck woman. I’d say she’s kinda looney, but mostly harmless. She’s from over to Sander’s Cove way originally, I believe. Served as a nurse in Vietnam. Came back and moved out to that place she’s got now.”

Winston marveled at the details about people Haynes knew. He envied his sources.

“She does some odds and ends to get by,” Haynes continued. “Sells that hemp stuff … you know, rope and clothes.”

Winston arched his eyebrows. “Hemp?”

The sheriff eyed Winston. “That’s right. It’s a natural fiber.”

“And that’s, uh, you don’t have any problem with that, sheriff?”

“She’s kind of a loner. Doesn’t cause any problems with anybody. So I don’t reckon I have any problems with her.”

“I see.” Winston looked down at his notebook. “So all that makes her … what? A not-so-reliable source?”

Haynes looked at Winston. “In my book that makes her a law-abiding citizen.” He sniffed. “It’s your job to figure out how reliable she is.”

***