"I take it you're the ones that need the newsheriff?" Wade pulls the bedroll and Winchester from his saddle thenknocks some of the dust from his vest... but that's as polite as he gets.He enters the office. The two city elders follow.Wade took the separate room at the back of the jail and set up shop.The old stove was still there, as was the coffee pot, the coffee stillbitter. Wade grimaced at his first sip while perusing the latestwanted posters on his cork board his first day. The sick. The first man looked back at me. For some reason he looked awfully familiar. He came closer to me. “What’s your name, son?”“Reaper, Graham W., Sergeant, United States Army. You want my social security number, too?” I asked.“Reaper? Why does that ring a bell?” he asked.“I don’t know. Who are you?”“My name’s Crowley. Captain Crowley. I’m the Patrol Commander.”I gave him a hard look. For some reason he looked very familiar to me, but it just wasn’t clicking. “I don’t know why, but you look. More

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