Chapter 23
Will
The doctors allow Owen and Sheryl to leave toward noon. Will’s back hurts from sleeping in the armchair, or at least attempting to. He needs a shower and a much better coffee than the one they serve at the cafeteria.
He also needs to speak with the sheriff.
He can’t think of the last time he wanted to do that, but this is not about him.
He won’t sleep soundly knowing that Owen is still in danger, and the sheriff seems to be Will’s best shot at finding a solution.
He also can’t shake Nate’s revelation during the chaos of that night. He’s going to give you to Hal Darnell.
The notion of something like that happening is preposterous, yet Will believes it to be true.
A claim like that can’t come out of nowhere, which means the mayor must have told Nate that directly.
From what little information they were able to get out of Nate while they rushed to save Owen, it’s clear that Nate has been playing a double game between the sheriff and the mayor, which doesn’t surprise Will one bit.
“Drive slower,” Sheryl says from the backseat.
“If he drives any slower, we’ll be going backward,” Owen says from the passenger seat. “We’ll be home in a few minutes.”
“Once I drop you off, I need to go meet the sheriff,” Will tells Owen.
“I’ll come with you.”
Will shakes his head. “Not right now. I’ll speak with you later.”
“You seem tense.”
That’s because he is. By the end of the day, Owen will likely discover the final secret that Will has been keeping from him. He has no doubt that Owen truly loves him, but there’s a limit to how much darkness a man can accept before he decides to walk away.
“Will?”
“What? Sorry, I’m a bit tired.”
“I don’t like being in the dark about things that involve me.”
“Give it a rest,” Sheryl says. “The man has been through a lot. He’ll tell you more when he’s ready.”
Will shakes his head, thinking that hell must have frozen over if Sheryl is standing up for him.
“Okay,” Owen says and squeezes Will’s knee. “I’ll just take it easy and draw some things.”
Will smiles. “You do that.”
They park in front of Sheryl’s house, where Francie is waiting with a covered dish. Owen has called her from the hospital to say he was okay.
They climb out of the truck, with Sheryl insisting she doesn’t need help.
“You’re too pale,” Francie tells Owen. She’s wearing an orange puffer coat since it’s a cold spring day.
“I’m the one with a bullet wound,” Sheryl says.
“You’re with the police; Owen isn’t.”
“Oh, he was with the police just fine when he went undercover behind my back.”
Francie gives Owen a hard look. “Is that so?”
He holds Will’s hand firmly. “You are not leaving me alone with these two.”
Will kisses the side of his head. “Try to enjoy it. I’ll be back soon.”
They walk through the front door, and before Will can return to his truck, Francie calls, “You wait there, Will Thomas. I can spot a man in need of a coffee when I see one.”
He leans against his truck, enjoying the silence and the anticipation of caffeine. He should go see Julie, but he can’t face her today with the bruise on his head. One difficult conversation at a time.
Francie returns with a large travel mug of coffee, and Will takes it gratefully. “Thank you.”
“You need to rest. Coffee alone won’t keep you sharp throughout the day.”
“I know. I’ll rest this evening.”
She glances at the house. “Is he still in danger?”
“Likely.”
She returns her gaze to Will. “Are you going to do something about that?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
*
The police station is a one-story structure right outside of town.
Will has been inside a few times in his life, once after his mom died in a car crash and the other times when he was arrested after Joel’s death.
The sheriff’s men enjoyed finding different reasons—all made up—to throw him into a jail cell for a night or two.
He never demanded to speak with a lawyer, knowing it would only make things worse.
Walking into the station, he tries not to think of the past, but memories don’t work like that.
The sheriff walks out of his office as if expecting Will to arrive. From the dark bags underneath his eyes, he hasn’t slept much either. The young policewoman by the front desk starts to speak, but the sheriff cuts her off. “That’s okay, Beth. We have a meeting.”
Will follows him into his office. As he sits, he’s faced with a framed photo of Joel, wearing a football jacket and smiling proudly. A golden boy. The pride of Van Buren.
The sheriff tilts the photo away from Will and sits down. “How are Owen and Sheryl?”
“They’re fine. I took them home. Is Nate still here?”
“Yes. He hasn’t demanded to be released yet, but he will soon. Whether he’ll go talk to his other employer is uncertain.”
“What did he say about that?”
“That he needed the extra money, and that he never gave Ray sensitive information.”
“You believe him?”
“Of course not, but I can’t keep him here, and I want to use the opportunity to take down the mayor.” The sheriff’s eyes harden. “I know he’s your family, but—”
“He’s not my family. Never was. How do you want to take him down?”
“I need him on record talking about his dirty dealings.”
“He has partners.” Will goes over the names of those he met during the mayor’s events.
The sheriff leans back in his chair, his palms on his stomach. “For someone who doesn’t get along with the man, you sure know a lot about who he’s doing business with.”
The air feels heavier; the office warmer. Will’s skin becomes transparent under the sheriff’s piercing stare. But he came here to get results, and for that he needs to be honest.
“Ray is paying for Julie’s stay at the hospice. In return, I go to his house every once in a while to serve his business partners.”
“Serve as in…?”
“Yes.” He leaves it at that, not looking away or showing his shame, because he has no reason to feel ashamed.
The sheriff opens his mouth, then closes it, tapping his fingers on his large desk. Finally, he asks, “Did you know about Ray’s involvement in the drug pandemic around the county?”
“I suspected they were dealing with something fishy, but I only recently heard them talking about it more specifically. Even then, they didn’t go into the details, and Ray later warned me to keep my mouth shut.”
“Would you testify?”
“Yes, but it will be my word against that of powerful people.”
“True, and I don’t trust the district attorney to go after them unless he has to, but he’ll have no choice if he has evidence he can’t ignore. The kind of evidence that might end up with the press and make him look bad for not acting sooner.”
Will nods. “You want to get Ray on tape talking about that.”
“That would be our strongest evidence, and any other written records we can get would help. I was thinking of forcing Nate to help with that.”
“I don’t trust him.”
“Neither do I.”
Will takes a breath. “I can do that. There’s supposed to be another event this Friday evening. I usually know about them in advance.”
“The recording device will need to be hidden while we listen from afar. Can you wear a wire?”
“No.” He doesn’t bother saying he’ll be naked, but the sheriff seems to understand.
“Then you’ll need to hide the device somewhere in the house, preferably in Ray’s office or in the dining room.”
“Can’t it be both?” He knows he’ll have one shot at this, and he’d rather cover everything. If this plan goes south and Ray finds out about Will’s involvement, he’ll retaliate, and Will isn’t sure he’ll survive that.
The sheriff nods. “It can be both, yes. Friday is two days from now. I’ll try to keep Nate here until then—I can’t risk him telling anyone about what we found out. I need him to pretend he never told us about the mayor’s involvement in Owen’s kidnapping, or we can forget about our plan.”
“That’s on you to make him play along.” At this point, Will fears he might badly hurt the man now that he knows about his past actions and how they played a key role in making his life a living hell.
The sheriff stands up. “Come on. Let’s pay the little weasel a visit.”
*
There are four cells at the back of the station, and Nate is the only one in custody at the moment.
He stands up when he notices them approaching.
He’s wearing plain, clean clothes, but his hair is not neatly combed to the side like usual, and there’s restlessness in his little eyes instead of that familiar cold composure.
“How’s Owen?” Nate asks.
Will should be calm and calculated, but the nerve of that man sends him over the edge. He wraps his palms around the iron bars and hisses, “Don’t say his name. Don’t fucking dare.”
“I wasn’t behind what happened!”
“You told Ray about his undercover work,” Will says, still gripping the bars. “You didn’t do it for nothing.”
“I did it to make the mayor pressure you into leaving him.”
That sounds crazy enough to be the truth. “And did he tell you that he was going to do that?”
Nate looks away. Will shakes his head in disgust. “He told you that he was going to hurt Owen, and you had a chance to do something about it.”
Nate crosses his arms. “I want out of here.”
“You kidnapped a man,” the sheriff says. “Tied him to a tree and beat him. The two eyewitnesses happened to be me and Sheryl, and our testimony will carry weight.”
Nate’s breathing grows quicker. “Are you pressing charges?” he asks Will.
He didn’t even think about that. He has lost all trust in the police, so the thought of counting on the law to do what’s right didn’t cross his mind. “I’m willing to let it go if you work with us.”
“How?”
“Speak with Ray,” Will says. “Tell him that his plan didn’t work and that we’re not aware of his involvement. I need him in the dark until Friday.”
“What’s happening on Friday?”
“Not your concern,” the sheriff says. “You heard the man. He’s offering you a get-out-of-jail card, and he’s asking for very little in return.”