The Secret Garden Of Martha Grim
By Richard Lopez (c)1992

Page 9...

Things never worked out the way you wished they would. In the short time they had known each other, Bob Cole had grown to be a good friend. Wished he could say the same about his boy, Willie. In the eight years that Roy had been sheriff of Porters Crossing, he had never known William Cole to do a damn thing right. Quinn knew the type. Muscle bound bullies, who used their size to push their weight around, using intimidation to get what they wanted. In eighteen years of police work, ten in the city as a street cop and eight as sheriff of Porters Crossing, Roy had seen his share of assholes and none were so brave that a good kick in the "chone's" couldn't bring them back to reality.
Yeah, seemed that he'd been surrounded by assholes his entire career. From that dipstick deputy chief that was his reason for leaving the L.A.P.D., to the idiot he was tailing right now, they were all the same, and they gave him a headache when he though about it.

Well, he had been following Cole for the better part of a mile a not once had he seen him use his signal lights to change lanes, and he could have sworn he was following someone and came pretty close to hitting two vehicles. Now, he thought, he would be remiss in his duties if he didn't keep up on traffic offenders and such.
Quinn hit the roof lights, and popped the siren. Yes, today was going to be an interesting day.

Cole had been to intent on keeping up with Martha Grim, that he hadn't notice the sheriff trailing behind him, and when the siren sounded, it made his heart leap into his throat.
Part of him wanted to make a run for it, but he knew that with his truck loaded down as it was, he'd never outrun a police cruiser. He decided to pull over, and watch Martha drive out of sight. Dammit, another chance blown.
Willie looked to see who was coming up to his car. He could not believe it! It was that goddamn Quinn! That bastard never gave him a break, always on him for something, since the first day he'd become sheriff.
What made it worse, he'd been one of his dad's friends. "Well come on then," he shouted out of his rolled down window, "Let's get it over with. You think I got all day for this penny ante shit!"
Quinn had gotten out of his car, pulling the club from its slot next to his seat, taking his time as he walked up to Cole's truck. Keeping the club out of its holder on his belt, Quinn leaned on the roof of Cole's truck, looking down, he said "Good afternoon Willie, are we going to a fire, or do you just like driving recklessly on hot afternoons?"
Looking up at Quinn, Willie said, "Why Sheriff Quinn, are we looking for a new career as a comedian? If that's so, then you better get a better writer 'cause that material sucks." A wry grin crossing his thin lips.
"That's a good one, smart ass, or should I say dumb ass? Then again, with you the two seem to go hand in hand." Quinn's smile was replaced by look of contempt. God, how he disliked this bum.