Burnt Biscuits

December 1927

"Deputy Lewis, is Carlles still in?" Sheriff Maxwell Buchanan asked as he came into the station.

"Yes, Sir, he's waiting for you in your office, Sir" Lewis, nodded toward the door at the rear of the room. "Oh, and, Sir, Prosecuting Attorney Allen is already here, too, waiting on you."

"Okay. Thank you, Lewis." Sheriff Buchanan said as he headed to his office. He paused before going in to collect his thoughts. Turning the knob, he entered the office.

Inside, on one side of the old worn plaid couch, sat Charles J. Allen, the longest-sitting District Attorney in the last thirty years. Of course, he'd only served for five years. The town of Delta's Grove seemed to have a hard time holding onto a DA for any amount of time.

On the other side of the couch, sat the Sheriff's Chief Deputy, Carlles Whit. Carlles had been with the Sheriff's Office since he'd graduated from university. He was the first deputy hired by the town with a degree in criminal justice. He had quickly risen in the deputy ranks but had more than deserved each and every promotion. Because of this, Carlles was well-liked by the other deputies.

As the Sheriff went to sit behind the desk, D.A. Allen cleared his throat and began, "Now, Max, I know you don't want to believe that he did it, that he was capable of it, but he confessed. Not only that but he was caught in the act, that alone means the gallows, Max, and you know it."

Sheriff Buchanan took his Fedora off and ran his hand over his balding head. Sighing, he looked at his deputy, "I want to know why he did it. I've known both the Miltons since we started school together. Did he say anything when you brought him in, Carlles?"

Deputy Whit shook his head, "Sheriff, honestly all he said was, "Why did she have to do it again". When I asked what he was talking about, he just stared at me, then said, you're not Max."

"He dismissed his court-appointed attorney this morning, told him he'd only discuss everything with you," Charles J. added.

"Well, tell that idiot Lewis to bring Frank in," Max asked his Chief Deputy. "Then tell Lewis to go pick up breakfast for everyone at Tina's and to put on a fresh pot of coffee too while he's at it.'

As Carlles left to follow his orders, the Sheriff mumbled, "Lewis, stupid summa-birch Mayor's nephew. Biggest muck up on the force."

Franklin Milton was brought in and sat down at the kitchen table used as a makeshift conference table in the Sheriff's office. Max and the other two soon joined him when Lewis brought plates of steak and eggs from Tina's Diner down the street.

Silence surrounded them as they all ate and Lewis served coffee. When Max was finished eating, he leaned back in his chair to clean his teeth with a toothpick. As he did, he watched his old childhood friend closely.

Frank Milton was a tall lanky man, standing a good six foot five and weighing only one hundred ninety-five pounds. He and Max were the same age and had attended school together, but Frank had seemed to age a good ten years just since he was arrested yesterday.

As Max watched Frank, Frank started spinning a piece of his toast around, like those paper footballs they used to make in school that they thump across the desktop. As Max spun, he started to speak, " Now Max, you have known me my whole life. You were in the same classes with Rebecca and me all through school. You know how much I loved her. For Chris's Sake, you were the Best Man at my wedding. No, no, don't say anything. Let me say my piece, and tell you what happened. After all, there is only so much a man can stand, and yesterday morning was the final straw with my Becca. You just don't know the trouble I went through because of that woman.

"Oh, don't get me wrong. My Becca was a good woman. She kept a clean house. My clothes were always in good repair. She attended church every Sunday. Plus she never cheated on anything a day in her life. I can't even hold it against her that she was unable to give me a son, let alone a daughter. My Rebecca was a good woman and I'm going to miss her, that's for sure.

"But as I was saying, there's only so much a person can take and I hit my point yesterday.

"You know, Max, you were the lucky one. Your Natalia, now she could cook anything to perfection. I always hoped some of that would rub off on Becca but it never did.

"With Becca, you were lucky if it was overcooked. More times than not the food would be hard and raw, to be honest.

"Well, in twenty-five years Becca and I have been married, there's been one thing she knew I couldn't stand. That as soon as she set it down in front of me it would set me off royally and somehow, someway she'd find some way to serve it at least twice a week.

"Max, you know what this toast has in common with my wife's biscuits? They're both burnt. Every single time, she'd burn those biscuits black and serve them to me.

"There's nothing worse than burnt biscuits, Max, you got to believe. After all these years, I just couldn't take it anymore.

"So I stood up and walked over to her at the stove. Gave her one final kiss and hug. Picked up the knife she was using and I slit her throat." Franklin Milton started laughing, "Boy did she damn well deserve it."

Sheriff Maxwell Buchanan stared at his old friend, seeing him in a much different light than he had before they had sat down to eat. With a heavy heart, Max knew what his old friend's sentence would be.

January 15, 1928

The Grove Daily News

It's official, the last hanging in the town of Delta's Grove was scheduled for this morning at 8:00 AM. Franklin Thomas Milton was hung until he passed on the gallows for the murder of his wife of 25 years.

If TGDN readers will recall, back in December of '27, Mr. Milton was convicted of this murder when he killed his wife for burning his biscuits.

As of this morning's hanging, Mayor Sheldon Lewis has vowed that no more hangings will occur in this town as a punishment for serious crimes.

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