hire good men. What we need is somebody that’s honest. Honesty is more important than packing a big gun. We’ve found that out the hard way. Think about it, will you, Jenny?”
“No, I won’t. It’s ridiculous.”
****
Dixon opened the door to his office and was nearly bowled over as Jenny came storming in. Her eyes were blazing, and she said, “Did you mean everything you said about my running for sheriff?”
“Why, sure I did. What’s wrong?”
Jenny turned to him. Her lips were twitching, and he couldsee that she was terribly disturbed. “What is it, Jenny?” he said quickly.
“Somebody burned a cross out in front of our house last night. There were hooded riders out there, and they were shouting, ‘You won’t live if you run for sheriff, woman.’ ”
“The Klan. I thought they had sort of faded away,” Dixon said, his lips growing thin. He studied the young woman in front of him and said, “I’m sorry this had to happen. It’s a bad part of the world down here. It’s going away slowly, but it’s still with us.”
Jenny had not slept a wink. She turned now, and her face was lined with fatigue. “I’m going to run for sheriff, Luke, if you’ll help me.”
“Are you sure you want to do this? Those clansmen can play pretty rough.”
“I think it’s what God would have me do. Maybe I can help people like Noah.”
“There are plenty like him around, and not all of them are black. Look, Jenny, this county’s going down the drain. There’s some big tie-in between racketeers in the North wanting bootleg liquor and local enforcement officers, and those people play for keeps. You could be putting your life on the line.”
“I’ll do it if you’ll help me.”
Luke Dixon felt an admiration for Jennifer Winslow stronger than he had for any woman he had ever met. “All right, Jenny, we’ll do it. Your slogan will be, ‘A shining badge. We’ll get rid of those tarnished badges and start all over again!’ ”
CHAPTER SIX
Campaign
Luke Dixon took his eyes off the road long enough to turn to his right and study his passenger. A slight smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he watched Jenny staring straight ahead, her lips moving. She was, he knew, rehearsing her speech, and suddenly he reached over and put his hand on her shoulder. “You don’t have to worry about your speech. It’ll be great.”
Startled out of her own little world, Jenny turned and stared at Dixon. He had his left hand loosely on the steering wheel, and his right was squeezing her shoulder. They had been on a total of three dates, and she had grown very fond of the blond-haired lawyer. At this moment, however, she was not thinking of dates but of arriving at the dedication of the George Paxton Bridge. It was to be her first political speech, and she had slept hardly a wink the previous night. Now, in the late afternoon with the sun going down, she suddenly cried out, “Luke, we must have all lost our minds! There’s no way I could ever be elected even as a . . . a dogcatcher in this county!”
Luke dodged a pothole skillfully and let his hand remain resting on her shoulder. “You’re going to do just fine, and you look nice too.”
“Do you really think so?”
“I sure do. That dress has character.”
The dedication of a bridge was one of the social events that people in the county loved. The Depression offered few free recreations, and at an event such as this there was sureto be a crowd. There would be free food, soft drinks, ice cream—and a great many political speeches. Looking down at her outfit, Jenny shook her head. “I don’t know whether this is the right thing to wear or not. It looks too . . . too feminine for a politician.”
The dress she had chosen was not new. She had worn it back in New York, and it did seem a little dressy. It was a black dress of crepe de chine, and along the bottom of the skirt were two rows of pleated flounces, and she had chosen to wear beige stockings and a
“No, I won’t. It’s ridiculous.”
****
Dixon opened the door to his office and was nearly bowled over as Jenny came storming in. Her eyes were blazing, and she said, “Did you mean everything you said about my running for sheriff?”
“Why, sure I did. What’s wrong?”
Jenny turned to him. Her lips were twitching, and he couldsee that she was terribly disturbed. “What is it, Jenny?” he said quickly.
“Somebody burned a cross out in front of our house last night. There were hooded riders out there, and they were shouting, ‘You won’t live if you run for sheriff, woman.’ ”
“The Klan. I thought they had sort of faded away,” Dixon said, his lips growing thin. He studied the young woman in front of him and said, “I’m sorry this had to happen. It’s a bad part of the world down here. It’s going away slowly, but it’s still with us.”
Jenny had not slept a wink. She turned now, and her face was lined with fatigue. “I’m going to run for sheriff, Luke, if you’ll help me.”
“Are you sure you want to do this? Those clansmen can play pretty rough.”
“I think it’s what God would have me do. Maybe I can help people like Noah.”
“There are plenty like him around, and not all of them are black. Look, Jenny, this county’s going down the drain. There’s some big tie-in between racketeers in the North wanting bootleg liquor and local enforcement officers, and those people play for keeps. You could be putting your life on the line.”
“I’ll do it if you’ll help me.”
Luke Dixon felt an admiration for Jennifer Winslow stronger than he had for any woman he had ever met. “All right, Jenny, we’ll do it. Your slogan will be, ‘A shining badge. We’ll get rid of those tarnished badges and start all over again!’ ”
CHAPTER SIX
Campaign
Luke Dixon took his eyes off the road long enough to turn to his right and study his passenger. A slight smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he watched Jenny staring straight ahead, her lips moving. She was, he knew, rehearsing her speech, and suddenly he reached over and put his hand on her shoulder. “You don’t have to worry about your speech. It’ll be great.”
Startled out of her own little world, Jenny turned and stared at Dixon. He had his left hand loosely on the steering wheel, and his right was squeezing her shoulder. They had been on a total of three dates, and she had grown very fond of the blond-haired lawyer. At this moment, however, she was not thinking of dates but of arriving at the dedication of the George Paxton Bridge. It was to be her first political speech, and she had slept hardly a wink the previous night. Now, in the late afternoon with the sun going down, she suddenly cried out, “Luke, we must have all lost our minds! There’s no way I could ever be elected even as a . . . a dogcatcher in this county!”
Luke dodged a pothole skillfully and let his hand remain resting on her shoulder. “You’re going to do just fine, and you look nice too.”
“Do you really think so?”
“I sure do. That dress has character.”
The dedication of a bridge was one of the social events that people in the county loved. The Depression offered few free recreations, and at an event such as this there was sureto be a crowd. There would be free food, soft drinks, ice cream—and a great many political speeches. Looking down at her outfit, Jenny shook her head. “I don’t know whether this is the right thing to wear or not. It looks too . . . too feminine for a politician.”
The dress she had chosen was not new. She had worn it back in New York, and it did seem a little dressy. It was a black dress of crepe de chine, and along the bottom of the skirt were two rows of pleated flounces, and she had chosen to wear beige stockings and a
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