He hitched his belt up under his paunch, then walked down the few steps to the shingle beach. Almost unconsciously, he ran his thumb over the clip of his holster. Shivering as the cold bit into him, he wished he was back in bed, warm and oblivious to the fearful task he had before him. For a moment, he saw himself under the water, sightless and thoughtless under the salt waves, drifting out and away from this place; not having to face the future for fear of what it would look like. He’d give anything not to be standing where he was right now. When he’d been young, this had been his dream job; Deputy Sheriff, and later Sheriff, of the small beach-side town where he’d grown up. It was beautiful here and, when he married Mary, he thought things would always stay that way. The only daughter of the town’s minister, Mary had seemed quite a prize with her straw-coloured hair and startling blue-grey eyes. Her shy laugh made him feel like he needed to hold her close, always. He remembered a high night-time tide nearly a decade ago.
