Chapter 7 – Crimey
Mayor Jones walked to the podium. "Welcome everyone, to the 215th Annual Crimey Awards. Before I announce the winner, I you need to realize that if I haven't friended you it's not going to happen, so stop with the poking!"
Sherrif Bronson Stone took a seat near the podium and Deputy Buckner congratulated him on his victory to come before running off to get him some cotton candy. The town had been buzzing with the news of a crime-fighting ghost named Dead Justice, but Stone wasn't worried – much.
"Do you think we might be up there winning a Crimey someday?" Fred asked Daphne.
"Yes, I know we will. I believe in you," she said.
"The envelope please. The winner of the Crime-Fighter of the Year Award is... once again our own Sheriff Bronson Stone!"
Stone came up and accepted the award. "You like me! You really like me!"
There was a clap of thunder and a cloud of smoke, and Dead Justice appeared on a glowing horse. "I don't care! Awards are for sissies! All I care about is justice. I'll make you see I'm the better lawman."
He fired at the award and split it in two while Sherrif Stone was holding it.
"Bouncing baby oysters, the last thing we need in this town is another vigilante horning in on real law enforcement," said the Mayor. "Sheriff, call all your deputies together and arrest that ghost. He can still be a tourist attraction in jail."
Dead Justice took off with a "Hi ho, Greg!" and vanished in a cloud of smoke. He was never seen in town again.
"Thank you, Sir, for standing up for me," said Sheriff Stone.
"I was tempted to give the award to him, even your job, but too much is going on," said the Mayor. "Better a useful idiot I can control – just joking. Congratulations, Sheriff."
"When he says, 'another vigilante' do you think he means us?" Fred asked. "We're not vigilantes, are we?"
"Technically, when we investigate crimes and trap criminals..." Daphne said. "In his eyes."
"He's been grouchy with me ever since someone robbed the safe in his bedroom," Fred said. "Apparently it had an easy three-digit key - his age and the pound sign."
"Like father, like son," said Daphne.
"No, we're not that much alike. My father will never understand me. You're the only one who does," Fred says.
"It's so sweet of you to say that," Daphne said.
"Let's go over to the Clam Cabin. I have something to ask you."
"As long as you don't ask me to eat the seafood. You know what it does to my complexion."