The note was identical to the previous one, written on the back of a hardware store receipt:

“Lake Derry need a doctor.
She mitey sick, she is.
Sick with SIN .
I know where the medacine is.
But where am I?
I ain’t no cop killer.
And I don’t need your help.”

Jefferson crumpled the paper in frustration and tossed it into his pickup bed, next to the dead body of Chief Ridgway and the living but shell-shocked body of Ralph Ames. Ralph screamed as the truck pulled back onto the road, more out of disorientation than pain.

Before long they arrived at the station and Jefferson threw on some coffee. This was going to be a long night. No telling how early the coroner would be by tomorrow…and with all the excitement Jefferson couldn’t sleep if he wanted to. His arthritic joints groaned in agony but still he pressed on.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, boy!” Dragging Ralph inside proved to be a chore and a half.

A little cold water on the face and a swig of joe later, Ralph was slowly coming around again.