the loudspeaker to park at the side of the road. Desmond’s assumptions were correct. Instead of obeying his demands, the Mercedes only increased its speed, and a face with a shotgun appeared from the rear passenger window. Stopping the red Mercedes, which was wanted throughout the state, cost Desmond the front bumper, the windshield, the right side mirror, the right front fender, the right front door, the radiator, four cartridges and one corpse out of three potential ones. After what happened, no one doubted that this guy had a great future. The chase lasted only fourteen seconds before Desmond pulled out his revolver and fired the first shot, and forty-two seconds later the chase was over. He not only believed in himself, but believed that there was no person who could make him falter. After one of the robbers emerged from the window of the Mercedes and fired the first shot, Desmond began to sink into such a state of stress that he could hardly remember much of what happened next. But when the chase ended and he pinned down two, discovering the corpse of the third, the realization came to him that there was nothing to be afraid of. Desmond was convinced that he had done something that no Hollywood action movie could show. This was the first and only time Desmond killed someone. He felt no regret or guilt for not taking all three alive. The driver leaned back, pressed against the steering wheel with a hole in the back of his head, but Desmond perceived this turn of events as the cost of fighting crime. It happens that you cannot do without murder and the only question is who will be killed: the criminal or the policeman. From that day on, every time any difficulties arose at work, Desmond reminded himself that it was he who alone took on the gang in the red Mercedes. For example, when his boss raised his voice at him, Desmond immediately remembered the gang in the red Mercedes, thereby reminding himself of the level of his professionalism, and along with these thoughts came to him the realization of what a nonentity his boss was, who have never done anything even remotely similar throughout his miserable life. Such thoughts about the past were the most effective way to combat stress. The day the gang in the red Mercedes was defeated at the hands of Desmond Poe, the future sheriff learned what he was capable of. Although his reputation preceded him, a couple of years later he still had to remind others of who he was when a call came in about a gas station robbery. At that moment, Desmond had finished lunch at a cafe, which was located three blocks from the gas station and was already approaching the car when a radio message arrived. Seven and a half minutes later, Desmond rammed a yellow Chevrolet Cheville and dragged two would-be robbers into the office. The sheriff found a reason to vent his dissatisfaction on him, they say, he bombed the entire front part of the body of his official car. But Desmond… No, he didn’t remember the gang in the red Mercedes. He asked himself why the hell this bald hog, who was trying to be his boss, was sitting out his ass instead of doing his job and catching robbers. Such thoughts made Desmond believe in his own superiority over his boss.
His natural essence boiled down to the fact that he strictly followed the law and had a cool enough head that nothing in this world could force him to break the law.
The departure of his boss from his post was an event that occupied a special place in Desmond’s biography. This was a separate, special chapter in his life. After winning the election, watching as he crossed the threshold of the office saying goodbye to the sheriff’s service, Desmond barely restrained himself from spitting on the bald back of his former boss and giving him a kick in the ass so that he would quickly get out. That day he felt that this was his finest hour. Now he’s the sheriff. Now this is his town. Desmond ordered everything that in any way reminded him of his predecessor to be thrown out of the office. He began to spend a lot of effort and time to develop courage, organization and self-control in his charges. This was not always possible, since many people could not meet such standards due to their nature. Using Harry as an example, Desmond was clearly convinced of this. But unlike his predecessor, Desmond knew how to find in his subordinates those skills for which they should be valued. In the end he understood that his town was not Vietnam, where people were being killed on every corner. Among other things, you also need to do paperwork, be able to find a common language with people and resolve everyday conflicts.
After the previous sheriff left, Desmond began to properly restore order. He proceeded from the fact that for Heartstone, given its scale, the level of chaos and violence was too great. Several times a week we received calls about something stolen or missing. Every couple of days there would be some kind of row in a public place. Rarely did an entire calendar year go by without some kind of murder. The only restaurant in downtown Heartstone, called Angel Heart, was a real sore spot; in it, every evening – especially on weekends – the atmosphere at first became relaxed, and after a few hours, when the alcohol began to take effect, it was already tense and plates, knives, forks, bottles and everything that could somehow be used to rip open someone’s body. Moreover, a showdown could start between people who had hardly known each other before and had never spoken, but who came to the Angel Heart and sat at tables in opposite corners. And so almost every evening, Angel Heart put someone in a hospital bed, and someone was sent to a temporary holding cell. From the very first day Desmond first took on the most problematic areas of the town, including the restaurant. For three weeks, he spent every evening at Angel Heart, bringing one of his assistants with him. Not to say that Angel Heart has ceased to instill courage in the drunken heads of visitors, but showdowns began to occur much less frequently, and over time the situation calmed down completely. The owner of the establishment did not particularly like this, because he noticed how much alcohol sales had fallen. People began to drink less so as not to give the new sheriff a reason to attack them. But the restaurant owner also found a bright side in this, because now he didn’t have to install new windows so often, buy new sets of dishes, repair door hinges and walk around the entire room in search of unnoticed traces of blood after the next showdown. And the chairs in the central hall began to last much longer, since now no one would grab them to hit someone on the back, after which, as a rule, the chairs would shatter into splinters.
And so, day after day, Desmond improved the crime situation in the town. He did something that his predecessor didn’t even bother with.
In less than a year as sheriff Desmond had gotten the situation to the point where no one was afraid to walk the streets of Heartstone in the dead of night without being raped or robbed. That year in the service for Desmond was not work, but a real fairy tale. Every single day he showed who was boss in this town. And then, over time, everything began to somehow calm down and there were no longer any particular reasons to take a revolver out of the holster and wave it in front of someone’s nose. But he didn’t have to be bored, because over time Desmond made another discovery in himself, noticing how much he liked leading other people. He saw in his subordinates a kind of complex mechanism that needed to be made to work harmoniously and cope with all tasks, hence Desmond’s understanding that if not all his people are cool and fearless, then this is not a reason to reject their professionalism. Then he began to work on his leadership skills.
It is interesting that, having taken the position of sheriff at the age of thirty-eight, Desmond began to strive to show others how much nerves of steel and a cool head he had. His reputation was loud, but there were still some things he didn’t like. Almost all residents of Heartstone perceived him as the most reliable protection against crime, turning the name of Desmond Poe into a brand, a sign of quality that guaranteed safety and order. They believed that they could relax their buttocks while this guy was breathing. The attitude of citizens towards him was extremely positive, since for all his toughness there was no such case that Desmond exceeded his authority. He liked to solve problems as independently as possible, as this pleased his pride, but the law and the safety of others were a sacred matter for him. Therefore, Desmond decided that it would be necessary to convey to those around him the idea that in front of them is the one who is responsible for their safety, and not some commando with post-traumatic syndrome. Since then, Desmond Poe has guarded his image, even though from time to time he was itching to remind himself of what he was capable of.
Having been married to him for a while, his wife was disappointed that her husband did not live up to her expectations and turned out to be too calm and balanced. But somewhere after the birth of her second child, Rhonda Poe