Annie hated Dan Felton, God rest his soul.
It was the former sheriff of Applegrove, after all, who had insisted the town jail be built on top of the highest hill in the county.
“You all’ll thank me when Coyote Creek floods the valley and the prisoners are locked in safe and sound up here!” he’d bellow.
What a farce! Coyote Creek was more of a puppy trickle, and now Annie was stuck trudging the half-mile trek from the center of town whenever she wanted to visit her husband, Archie.
‘Course, Archie never would have made sheriff if Dan hadn’t collapse one morning walking up the hill to work. That made Annie smile a little as she huffed and puffed the last few steps into the front of the jail, lugging a picnic basket for supper with her husband.
“Oh boy!” Archie greeted her. “Let’s eat!”
No sooner had they sat down at Archie’s desk than a clap of thunder shook the whole building.
Ned Malloy clanked his metal water cup against the bars of his cell and called out in anguish.
“Sheriff, I’m scairt o’ the thunder. Can you send that pretty lady back here to rock me to sleep.”
The men in the other two cells snickered and joined in the catcalling. Annie’s face flushed, but Archie brushed passed her and swung open the front door.
She followed and gasped at what she saw.
Coyote Creek had jumped its banks and was already crawling into the buildings in the town below.
“Welp,” Archie said with a chuckle. “Looks like we’ll be spendin’ the night up here, Annie.”
The inmates howled from the back of the jail.
“Can the missus sleep with me t’night, Sheriff?” Ned taunted.
That sealed it.
Annie definitely hated Dan Felton.
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