Chapter 19
Savvy
I haven’t had a chance to even look at my messages until just now, when I got behind the wheel to go home.
My eyes immediately go to Nate’s response to my much earlier question.
Good. Great, actually. Call me when you have a chance? I was just invited to an event at your father’s house.
What? What the hell does that mean?
Bit of a surprise, right? Same here. We’ll talk when you can.
I’m already looking for his number when I spot the time. Shit, it’s almost eleven, a little late to be calling. He’s probably already in bed and I don’t want to risk waking him up, so I shoot off a message instead.
Surprise would be an understatement. Sorry I didn’t get back to you sooner. Crazy day. You’re probably sleeping. Call you in the morning.
Calling today a crazy day is a bit of an understatement as well.
After reading those witness statements from the couple in cabin five, I floated Sanchuk’s name to Tessa Androtti and briefed her on him.
As expected, she wanted to have a chat with him, but that chat turned into a full interview that had us both tied up for the best part of four hours this afternoon.
Androtti turned out to be a skilled interviewer, and I learned a ton just from sitting in and observing.
She never lost her cool, was very friendly and exceedingly patient in how she handled Sanchuk, who flung around his usual bluster.
Nothing flustered Tessa, and the fact she could not be shaken seemed to frustrate and ultimately enrage my former deputy.
He’s the one who lost his cool and went into defensive mode when her gentle suggestions and innuendos around his possible involvement with the victim got under his skin.
Under the constant gentle pressure, he finally started cracking, denying vehemently he had anything to do with the slaughter of Franklin Wyatt but admitting to more minor offenses.
These included shaking down visitors to our town for trumped-up traffic offenses he forced them to pay for on the spot, using his badge to gain favors, neither of which I had any clue of.
He even fessed up to the attack on Nate in his garage.
According to Sanchuk, he did all those things but was definitely not responsible for any murder. It didn’t sway Androtti, and it definitely didn’t convince me.
I arrested him on the spot for the attack on Nathan and stuffed him back in the holding cell, where he’ll now sit until his arraignment on Thursday at the earliest.
Discovering what he’d been pulling off under my nose for years made me sick to my stomach. So, when I got back to my office, I locked the door and pulled up all of Sanchuk’s reports, his schedules, who he was partnered up with, and started working my way back from the day I gave him the ultimatum.
Corruption in law enforcement is something you might expect to see in larger departments, but in one the size of ours, it’s rare. I’m not sure what or who to trust anymore. Was Sanchuk on his own or is this a more widespread problem I’ve simply been blind to?
I spent the evening making a list of steps for me to take investigating my own damn department, because one thing I know; the only way to stop the rot from spreading is to cut every little spot out.
So now I have two murders, one former deputy in custody, and a department that is falling apart around me.
I could cry, but someone is going to have to clean up this mess.
I’m stopped at the traffic light on the corner of Maine and Pinedale Drive when my phone rings. A quick look at the screen on my dashboard shows Nate’s number.
“You’re still up.”
His chuckle warms me. “I’m in bed, trying to read a bit, but my thoughts kept drifting to you, and then your message popped up. Must be karma.”
“Must be.”
“Long day?”
I blow out a shaky sigh, trying not to fall apart at the genuine concern in his voice.
“Yeah…”
“Are you home?”
“On my way there now.”
The light turns green just as Nate says, “Come here instead. Let me take care of you.”
It’s probably not wise, I was going to go home and work a little more on the file I’m compiling on my department before hitting the sack. But I’m tempted.
A car horn behind me forces a split-second decision and I find myself turning left instead of right. I need sleep more than anything, and I know I can find that in Nate’s arms.
The hall light is on when I park along the curb. For a moment I hesitate, aware Tatum is probably home, sleeping in her own bed, but then the door opens, and Nate steps into view, waiting for me.
“What about Tatum?” I ask after he pulls me inside the house with a kiss.
“She’s down, and she’s a deep sleeper. I usually have to kick her out of bed in the morning to get ready in time for school, she doesn’t get up before seven thirty.”
“I’ll be gone before that,” I let him know.
“I figured. Now come to bed, I warmed it up for you.”
When I finally join him there—after a quick shower in his awesome bathroom to wash off the day’s grunge—he curls his body around me, and I fall asleep in no time flat.
“I’m so sorry I’m running off again. We haven’t even had a chance to talk.”
I woke up with Nate tapping my shoulder at ten past seven. The man is apparently my own personal sleep aid. There is no time for anything other than getting dressed and following Nate downstairs, where he shoves a travel mug of coffee and a toasted bagel with cream cheese in my hands.
“I didn’t even ask you about this event at Dad’s place. What’s that all about?”
He grins. “Well, your father’s visit yesterday morning was a bit of a revelation that requires more time to explain, and I met your stepmother when she showed up at my door later yesterday.”
I groan and slap a hand over my face. Seriously, my family is too much.
“I’m so sorry.”
“No. It was actually good. Phil certainly is an interesting character,” Nate continues. “And not really the match I would’ve picked for your father.”
I smile back, because he’s not wrong. I love Phil, but I was a little shocked to see her and my dad hit it off.
“I hear you, but they’re really good together. She forces him out of his shell and he seems to calm her crazy. It’s unexpected, but it works.”
“Well, she showed up yesterday and invited Tate and me to a cookout on Friday night. I said yes, but I’m not really sure if I should’ve checked with you first.”
“With me? Why?”
He shrugs. “It’s a bit odd, maybe? Your dad hated my guts and I’ve never met his new wife before yesterday. I feel like I’m the subject of some elaborate prank.”
I can’t believe I’m giggling in my current situation. Not only do I have what likely will be another day from hell waiting for me, but an impressionable teenager could walk in at any moment, making for an awkward discovery.
“No prank,” I quickly tell him. “With everything going on, I’d forgotten about the cookout. I plan to be there too, although I can’t make any guarantees. There are a lot of things unraveling at work I can’t really get into now, but I’m bound to be tied up for a while.”
He hooks me with a hand behind the neck and pulls me in for a hard kiss on my lips.
“Do what you need to do, but you’re going to have to eat at some point. Why don’t I show up with lunch, and you take fifteen minutes to feed yourself and decompress or talk or make out, or whatever you’re in the mood for. I’ll take whatever you can spare.”
My eyes well up. I remember this caring side of him no one but me seemed to see.
“Okay, but don’t be too nice to me or the wheels may come off.”
He kisses the tip of my nose.
“So noted. Now get out of here, I need to get my kid up and ready for school.”
Despite knowing the pile of shit I was heading into at the office, I’m wearing a smile when I get behind the wheel.
Nate
“Do I have to go?”
I glance over at Tate beside me.
“I’d like you to. We don’t have to stay long, but I think it would be a good idea to make an appearance. We can face the townsfolk together.”
She hums, not sounding too sure, but the more I thought about this last night, the more I think going to this cookout on Friday is a good thing.
I have never been particularly social or outgoing, which was fine when I was on my own, but I have Tate in my life now.
I don’t want her to grow up like I did; an automatic outcast because of who my mom was.
I’m sure those who want to think badly of me will do so anyway, but maybe showing myself to be just a regular guy, who also happens to be a single father to a fantastic daughter, will change the preconceived opinions of one or two of them.
I pat Tate on her knee as I pull up in front of her school.
“I’m sure we’ll have a good time.”
Her huff as she gets out of the truck makes it clear she’s not convinced. I have no doubt she’ll make other attempts to get out of it—the week is still long—but I’m not going to budge.
After dropping Tate off, I spend the morning doing some laundry and cutting vegetables for the quick Thai curry I’m whipping up to bring Savvy for lunch.
This is only my second day home and already I’m itching to get productive.
I don’t like sitting still, but maybe I could have a look at Savvy’s place, see what needs to be done.
It sounded like it would be quite the project, so I could start working it out on paper to get a bit of an idea of the scope.
If she’ll let me grab a key off her at lunch, I could get started this afternoon.
Brenda is behind the reception desk, engaged in an animated conversation with a guy in a suit when I walk into the station. She catches sight of me and lifts her finger to the guy, asking him to hold on.
“You can walk right in, Nate. She’s expecting you.”
Apparently, that doesn’t go over well with the man she was talking to, who loudly proclaims his displeasure. I gather he’s here to see Savvy as well.
Leaving Brenda to handle him—I’m sure she’s got that covered—I duck down the hall and make my way to Savvy’s office. The door is closed so I knock.
“Yeah,” she calls out, sounding distracted.
When I poke my head in the door, I’m greeted by a tired smile.
“Oh good, it’s you. Come in, and please, close the door.”
Her desk is covered in file folders and paperwork, a yellow-lined notepad is filled with scribbles and sports a few coffee rings from where she set her mug.
I notice she did stop in at home to change this morning, because she’s wearing a pair of jeans and a black golf shirt with the sheriff’s department logo.
“You look swamped,” I tell her as I look for a place to set lunch.
She solves it by unceremoniously shoving all her paperwork to one side.
“You have no idea.”
I have no idea how she feels about public displays of affection, but I set down the insulated bag holding the containers and round her desk to give her a soft kiss on the lips. She looked like she could use it.
When there is no protest, I kiss her again, with a little more heat this time.
Her arms snake around my neck as I brace myself on the chair so I don’t land in her lap.
Not like that would be a bad thing—I can see some interesting scenarios playing out in her office—but this is definitely not the time.
“Let’s eat,” I suggest, gently peeling her arms from my neck.
The first few minutes we eat quietly, only a few appreciative moans from Savvy breaking the silence.
“This is good,” she voices, with a little smile sent in my direction. “All of it, the food, the break, and the kiss. It’s a little oasis in the middle of a hectic day.”
She shoves in another bite before covering her mouth, asking me, “Did you see the guy giving Brenda a hard time?”
“Yeah. Who is he?”
“Jeff Sanchuk’s lawyer. He’s demanding to see me, but I don’t want to see him.
He can have all the access he wants to his client, but I’m not about to let him try to badger me into releasing his client, because it’s not going to happen.
Sanchuk is lucky to be arraigned on Thursday, they can plead their case to the judge. ”
“Do I need to be present for that?” I ask her.
“No. The judge will read Sanchuk his charges and ask what plea he wants to enter. Then they’ll discuss bail, which we’ll have to wait to see if the judge will grant, and set pre-trial dates. The district attorney’s office will likely be in touch with you to discuss all that.”
“Okay.” I point at the papers on her desk. “What have you got going on this afternoon?”
“I have a few meetings here in the office and then I have to head out to Quarry Road to follow up with Wanda Rogers about her husband’s case. What about you?”
“Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that. I was hoping you’d let me poke around your house a bit to see the scope of the work, maybe take some measurements.”
She wags a finger at me. “Didn’t the doctor tell you to take it easy?”
I shrug. “I wouldn’t actually be doing any work, nothing physical anyway, and it’ll keep me busy. Added bonus is I’ll be able to give you a cost projection so you know what you’re up against before any work starts.”
“That would be very helpful,” she admits. “I have money set aside, but I don’t really know if that’ll be enough.”
“I’ll be happy to help you figure that out, but I’m gonna need a key to get in.”
“All you need is the code. Zero nine zero six.”
I open my mouth to thank her when the significance of those numbers hits me.
“June ninth, that’s my birthday,” I share.
She looks at me, a little smile playing on her lips.
“I remember.”