It was a beautiful day. All things considered, he would rather have been in his hayfield mowing alfalfa, or down at the creek dipping a pole into the water. But neither of those things was in the cards. As he put on a pair of mirrored sunglasses, a trio of reporters rushed up to him, pens poised. “Sheriff, is it true a suspect has been questioned and released?” “No arrests have been made,” he said flatly, and continued on his way. They started to tag after him, but he turned slowly and lifted his sunglasses. “I don't have anything more to say,” he murmured. As Dane saw it, one of the few good things about reporters was that they were quick studies. In the two days since the murder they had learned very quickly when to test him and when to back off. They backed off. He took the path that cut catercorner across Keillor Park, trying to work off some of his tension with long, purposeful strides. Several members of the Lion's Club were working on the band shell, draping red-white-and-blue bunting and fumbling around with sound equipment and power cords, preparing for the Miss Horse and Buggy Days pageant.
