Chapter 28 #2
I haven’t thought about them in years. Haven’t thought about my parents much either, if I’m being honest. We have what you’d call a…
functional distance. No fights. No drama.
Just an unspoken agreement that we’re better off staying out of each other’s way.
I call once a year, keep it polite, keep it short.
Make sure they’re still alive, still comfortable, still existing in that world I walked away from. That’s about as far as it goes.
“The mayor’s a Reisman, despite his name being Barnes. Family ties.” the sheriff continues, dragging me back. He gestures loosely with his beer bottle, sloshing a little of it onto the table. “And y’all got his wife tucked away up on that commune of yours like she’s a prisoner.”
“It’s not a commune,” Reid says evenly. “And she’s not a prisoner. She’s free to come and go as she pleases.”
“Oh yeah?” The sheriff leans back, eyeing us both. “Then why didn’t you let us check in on her?”
“I told you—she didn’t want to see you.” Reid’s tone stays calm, but there’s steel under it now.
“And I’m not going to override that. We’re here to protect our clients, not pressure them into talking to law enforcement.
” He holds the sheriff’s gaze. “If you’d come back with a warrant, that would’ve been different. ”
“You gave me paperwork,” he mutters, like that’s somehow a personal insult. “After everything I’ve done for you.”
I let out a quiet breath through my nose. Here we go.
“What exactly have you done for us, Sheriff?” Reid asks, his tone flat, controlled—but I can see the tension in his shoulders, the way his fingers flex once at his side. He’s not in the mood for this. Not even close.
The sheriff either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care.
“You know a lot of folks around here think you’re running a cult up there,” he says.
“Some of them ain’t too happy about it. But I keep them off your ass.
Or at least I try to.” He tilts his head, eyes narrowing slightly.
“But tangling with this Mayor Barnes guy? That’s a bad move.
If he wants to, he can stir things up real quick. You catch my drift.”
The bar noise seems to fade again, tension creeping back in, sharper this time.
“Is that a threat?” I ask.
“It’s a warning.” He points the neck of the bottle at me like it’s making his case.
“Be careful. Law enforcement can order a raid anytime they want. Even if they don’t find a damn thing, that kind of attention?
It sticks. It hurts business.” His gaze flicks between us.
“And he’s a very powerful man. You might not want to give him a reason to come after you. ”
Something in me snaps. “You saying because he’s powerful, we just hand her back so he can keep abusing her? That what you’re saying?”
“Relax, Luke,” Reid cuts in, low and sharp.
I don’t miss the way his body’s gone tight, coiled like a spring ready to go. He’s just better at holding it in.
A couple of heads turn from a nearby table. My voice carried more than I meant it to. The alcohol’s probably doing its part there.
“That’s not what I’m saying,” the sheriff replies, lifting his hands slightly. “I’m saying you boys should find a smarter way to handle this.”
“Then enlighten us,” I shoot back. “What’s the smarter way?”
“Hey.” He gives a short, humorless laugh.
“No need to get pissy with me. Don’t shoot the messenger.
I’m trying to look out for you.” He gestures lazily between us.
“I like you, Luke. I don’t want to see you lose this little setup you’ve got.
But the mayor? He ain’t playing around. He wants his wife back, and if you keep pushing this…
” He shrugs. “You better be ready for the fallout.”
Reid lets out a slow breath, like he’s forcing himself to stay level. “Thanks for the information.”
That’s his way of ending the conversation.
He pushes up from the table and drops a hundred down without even checking the bill. I follow his lead, grabbing my jacket, the chair legs scraping faintly against the floor as we move. The sheriff stays where he is, watching us with that same loose, half-drunk expression.
We’re almost clear of the table when Reid’s phone rings.
He answers immediately. “Hello?”
I glance toward the window, only just noticing the rain hammering down outside. It’s coming down hard now, loud enough to compete with the noise inside. When the hell did that start?
“What?”
Reid’s reaction cuts through everything. His voice sharpens, cracks, and suddenly all the focus snaps back to him. His jaw tightens hard enough to show, his whole expression shifting in an instant.
“Thanks for telling me, Amanda. I’ll be right there.”
He hangs up, already moving.
“What happened?”
“Amanda said Sierra left in her car.”
The words hit like a punch. “She did?”
“Yeah.”
“What, in this storm?”
“She left before it started raining.”
I shake my head, glancing back at the window. The rain’s coming down in sheets now, visibility already shot. “Forecast said this was going to be bad. Really bad. Flash flooding, roads washing out… and she’s out there in that old Chevy?”
We stare at each other for a beat, the same thought landing at the same time.
“We need to go find her.”
I’m already moving, but Reid’s ahead of me, dialing again, pressing the phone to his ear as he heads for the door. Then he swears under his breath. “Not going through. Either her phone’s off or she’s got no signal.”
I glance at the window again. The rain is getting heavier by the second. “It’s getting worse.”
Reid doesn’t slow. “Doesn’t matter. We have to find her.”
That’s it. That’s the decision.
I follow him out, the cold air hitting as we push through the door, rain immediately soaking through the shoulders of my jacket. We don’t hesitate. Just head straight for the truck.
We’re both trying Tal as Reid pulls out of the parking lot, tires hissing on wet pavement.
He gets through first. “Tal. Did she take the car?”
A beat. Then: “Yes.”
Reid’s grip tightens on the wheel. “Fuck. We have to find her. Where are you?”
“On Bakers Street.”
I lean forward slightly, squinting through the blur of rain ahead. “If she’s got any sense, she’ll avoid the high pass and head for I-70.”
Reid relays it quickly.
“Alright, I’m heading there,” Tal says. “Cut across Temple. Meet me at the intersection to Summertown. We’ll go in convoy.”
“Okay, Tal. We’ll be there in about fifteen minutes.”
The line goes dead.
For a second, neither of us says anything. Just the sound of rain, the engine, the wipers fighting to keep up.
Then Reid exhales, low and steady. “We need to figure it out.”
I glance at him.
“To answer your question,” he adds, eyes fixed on the road, “after we find her and bring her back. We need to figure it out because I’m not letting her go again.”
I hold his gaze for a second, then nod once.
He’s right.
“I’m not letting her go either.”