Close To The Edge (Westen #2) Read Online Free PDF Page A

department into the computer world. When he died, Gage took over his position, but hasn’t gotten around to changing things. Says he’ll leave it for the next sheriff.”
    So, the sheriff didn’t plan on being re-elected. Given his public demeanor toward her, she’d guess his evaluation of his chances was correct. “You know I’m pretty good with filing. Maybe I could figure out Ruby’s system for you.”
    Cleetus looked at her, then up to the front room and finally back at her. “Gage said you weren’t to leave here, but he didn’t say you had to stay locked up.”
    “I’d still be in the building and you’d be keeping a very close eye on me.” She tried not to act too enthusiastic, but the idea of being out from the enclosed cell really appealed to her. How did prisoners do this on a daily basis for weeks, months, or even years?
    Her argument seemed to convince the deputy. He retrieved the key from the front room, and opened the cell door. The clicking of metal against metal had never sounded so good to her. Stepping out of the cell, she took a deep breath.
    Funny, it was the same air inside and outside of the cell, but it felt so good to inhale it out in the hallway. She rubbed her arms with both hands to ward off the chill she’d been feeling.
    She smiled at the congenial deputy. “Now, show me where those files are and we’ll see if you and I can’t find them before the sheriff returns.”
    Twenty minutes later, she understood the deputy’s frustration. She’d gone through the files as best she could. First, she’d gone alphabetically—the most logical way to find something. She’d tried T for tickets and traffic, S for speeding, and even M for moving violations. Nada. Next she’d tried her second organizational choice—by dates. No months, years, or dates listed anywhere. So where had the lady hidden the files?
    “I don’t suppose you could call Ruby?” she asked, hating to admit defeat so soon.
    Cleetus shook his head. “Doc said she’d be in surgery all afternoon. I don’t think she’ll be able to talk much before tonight.”
    Bobby clenched her hands in fists on her hips. “Okay. We just have to try to think about this in another way. Is there any other term you might use to name the tickets when you write them?”
    “Fines?”
    “Good.” She grabbed the file marked F. Flipping through the files, she found nothing marked Fines . “Nope. Anything else?”
    “Not that I can think of, ma’am.”
    “Is there any particular way you mark them? You know, to identify them as tickets to be collected?”
    “Well each one has the person’s name, driver’s license number and car tag on them.”
    Bobby stared at him, a sinking feeling in her stomach. “You don’t suppose she’d file each separately by their name do you?”
    “No ma’am. There must be at least two thousand registered drivers in the town and surrounding area, not to mention out of town drivers just passing through.” Cleetus rubbed his chin a moment. “But I’d say we give more tickets to the people living in our county.”
    He slowly grinned. “You don’t suppose she’d file them under county, do you?”
    “Who knows? It’s as good a place as any to look.” Bobby grabbed the handle of the C drawer and prayed he was right. There, in a thick file marked COUNTY TICKETS, divided by months and years, were hundreds of tickets. “Voilà! I think you solved the mystery, Cleetus.”
    She took the file to the desk, and found the monthly listings. White slips of tickets for the month of May were neatly arranged by date.
    Cleetus leaned over the desk. “How will we know where to find the out of town plates?”
    “I guess that’s one bridge we’ll have to cross when we get there.”
    After she listed all the tickets by date, name and license plate number, she sat back and tried to think like Ruby.
    If all the locals were in the “county” file, would the others be under “state”? Not likely. They could’ve been