Chapter 19 #2
Wyatt checked the immediate reaction. No need to let the man see he’d hit a nerve.
That would only confirm his accusation. Guthrie was the oldest of the three.
He’d been closest to Grider. Like a brother.
But he was a third-generation cop and he hadn’t wanted to give up his badge despite his indignation over the events that had transpired nine years ago.
At fifty, his hair had grayed and he needed glasses for reading, but age hadn’t slowed him down when it came to taking care of the business of being a cop.
Wyatt understood that despite his loyalty to the badge, Guthrie’s hatred for Addy ran deep.
Fierce emotions were involved. Maybe Addy was more right than he wanted to admit.
“Sit down, Guthrie.”
His deputy defied him for about two seconds before lowering his bulk back into his chair.
“This isn’t about whether or not you agree with my decision to allow Detective Cooper to be involved with this case,” Wyatt explained.
“This is about breaking the law. Violating the department’s trust. If one of you passed the details of those letters along to anyone else who might have let it get out, I need to know. Now.”
Swift wouldn’t meet his eyes. Hadn’t since he’d learned the topic of this meeting. He was the one Wyatt had pegged for the infraction. If there had been an infraction.
“Tell him,” Cochran said with a fierce glare at the man beside him. “I’d like to get the hell out of here before Christmas is over.”
Swift glared right back at his fellow deputy.
“Are you saying there’s something to this?” Guthrie jumped to his feet once more, sent a glower first at Cochran, then at Swift. “Dillon Swift, I’ve known you since you were a snot-nosed kid. If you did this you’d better fess up, buddy. You do not want me to find out some other way.”
Swift launched to his feet and stuck his finger in Guthrie’s face. “I didn’t do nothing,” he snarled before sending another drop-dead glare at Cochran.
Swift was the youngest and most hotheaded of the three. He’d joined the department the same month Addy had. They’d been rivals of a sort from the beginning.
“He and Clay Cooper have gotten to be pretty big pals,” Cochran said to Wyatt, cutting to the chase.
“Asshole!” Swift shouted.
“You better settle down, boy,” Guthrie growled. Swift held his ground. “You may not agree with the sheriff’s decision but you owe him the respect that goes with the office. Now sit your skinny ass down and explain yourself.”
After Swift had taken his seat once more, Wyatt gave him a moment to pull himself back together. “Start at the beginning,” he instructed, the fury simmering deep inside him making his teeth clench on each word.
“Me and Clay are buds, that’s right,” Swift boasted. “It’s a free country. I chill with him and the others from time to time.”
“The others” meaning Stovall and Cook. “Did you share any of the details of this investigation with him?” Wyatt asked, working hard to keep his cool.
“No, sir,” Swift shot back, “I did not.”
“Tell him,” Cochran grumbled.
Swift’s shoulders shook with fury.
“What’s he talking about, Swift?” Wyatt demanded.
“Clay was bragging about how his cousin was finally gonna get what she deserved. Said he had some inside information.” Swift raised his chin in a defiant gesture. “That’s it. He didn’t say nothing else.”
Wyatt mulled over the admission, then zeroed in on the points Swift had bypassed either inadvertently or by design. “During that discussion or since, did Clay make any reference to where he’d gotten his inside information or if it was related specifically to this investigation?”
Swift shook his head, adopted one of those this-is-a-waste-of-time expressions. “When I asked him what the hell he was talking about, he just laughed and said, ‘You’ll see.’ He never brought it up again.”
That fury he’d managed to keep in check so far threatened to break into a boil. “What was your response to that comment?”
“That he’d better not break any laws or you’d throw his ass in jail.”
Good answer. “You understand that you should have reported this incident to me immediately.”
Swift nodded. “I figured he was just running off at the mouth. He’d knocked back some serious JD and was all worked up over something his daddy had done.” The deputy shrugged. “I didn’t think no more of it.”
There was a fine line to be walked here. Wyatt had no reason to believe Swift was lying to him. If he overreacted, all three of the men sitting in front of him would understand that it was personal. This had to be by the book.
“I should put you on administrative leave.”
“Sheriff.” Swift’s eyes went wide. “I—”
“But,” Wyatt said, cutting him off cold, “I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt. This time. Under two conditions.”
The three deputies stared at him expectantly.
“You will all,” Wyatt ordered, “treat Detective Cooper with the same respect you treat any of your colleagues. And,” he added before any one of them could speak up, “you will keep your ears open where Clay or his cronies are concerned. This could turn into a very bad situation very fast. My department will not look the other way for Clay Cooper, his father, or anyone else crossing the line in this jurisdiction. The only law in this county now is the one represented by the uniforms we wear.”
“Yes, sir,” Guthrie and Cochran said simultaneously. Swift mumbled his agreement next, but the glaring pause negated the words.
“I regret that you had to be called away from your families on Christmas Day,” Wyatt allowed.
“But keep in perspective the fact that another woman is missing today. We have no evidence and no leads. One of our own, Detective Cooper, has been threatened by this same perp. It’s our job to protect Detective Cooper while stopping this bastard.
And, if we’re damned lucky, to bring his other two victims home alive. ”
Heads nodded in agreement.
“Guthrie, you and Cochran are dismissed.”
Swift’s eyes widened again as his comrades got the hell out of the office while the getting was good.
When the door had closed, Wyatt stood, rounded his desk, and sat down next to his deputy. “Swift, I didn’t want to say this in front of the others. Out of respect for you.” The younger man swallowed with difficulty.
“You’re right,” Wyatt said agreeably, “this is a free country. But Clay Cooper and the thugs he employs are trouble. Trouble that I will put an end to the first opportunity that arises.
“The uniform you wear represents a certain moral code, Swift. It took a long time to get folks in this county to believe that again. I won’t have you or anyone else undoing that hard work.
Whether you think this is a big deal or not, be warned, if you continue to fraternize with Clay Cooper’s type, there will not be a place in this department for you come review time. Understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Go home, Deputy Swift, and consider whether you want to work for me or for the Cooper family.”
“Merry Christmas, Sheriff,” Swift mumbled as he got to his feet.
“Same to you.”
The door closed behind the dumbass. The idea that Clay had gotten information by any means infuriated Wyatt. But he had far bigger problems than that little prick right now.
Wyatt closed his eyes. Two missing women . . . no evidence.
Though he had no clue what this bastard’s timeline was, Wyatt had a bad, bad feeling that time was running out . . .
. . . for Addy.