7. Eric
ERIC
W hen I reached my house, I realized I didn’t remember any of the drive there. I’d gone over and over my time with Ambrose, trying to figure out where things really stood. I was going to have to keep fighting for him to keep me in the loop.
I needed to know what he was up to. Was he making plans on his own, or was he talking to his family?
What could I do to make sure they didn’t make a move without me?
Keep surveillance on the shed? I could hardly do that and do my job.
I didn’t have a camera good enough to set up in the woods to see what was happening, and I was still trying to recover financially from the month I’d taken off when I moved.
I was just going to have to keep calling Ambrose and insisting he tell me what was going on.
If I had to, I’d show up at Dax’s house or track down one of his cousins.
I wasn’t supposed to know where Remington lived, but I did.
I’d found out what I felt I needed to know about the Theriot family after making my previous agreement with them.
I hadn’t looked any further, though. I knew there were things I didn’t want to find out, things that were better off staying hidden.
Ambrose hadn’t lied about how hard it was to find any information about him. He’d been so well scrubbed from the internet that I could barely find a word about him. Even my buddy back in Baltimore who could usually find whatever I needed online was surprised by how little was available.
Apparently, I wasn’t going to learn anything else about him unless he volunteered the information. I wondered if he’d ever invite me to his home and offer me some of the moonshine I’d heard too much about during the time we were waiting together for LePlatt. He might open up if I got him drunk.
But why would he invite me there? No matter how much I fantasized about it, he wasn’t interested in me for anything other than information that would lead to Carlotti’s takedown. I was an informant to him, one he didn’t even trust to be part of the operation.
Quit being a drama queen. He trusts you, but he’s trying to protect you.
Was he really? And why did that thought make me feel warm inside. I didn’t need protection. I never had. I’d been the protector. Even when I was a kid.
I needed a reality check to help me put an end to my fantasies about Ambrose. I pulled out my phone as I flopped down on the couch. I would probably regret this later, but before I could stop myself, I called my sister.
“Candace Winston.”
She always answered like that. She was a realtor, so any call coming through could be business. She must have not bothered to look at the screen.
“It’s Eric.”
“What are you doing calling me in the middle of the day?”
“It’s my day off.”
She snorted. “I thought you small-town sheriffs never got a day off.”
“I could get called in anytime, but for now, as long as things stay quiet and nothing happens that my deputies can’t handle, I’m off work.”
“You’re just calling to say hi?” She knew better. I never called without a reason unless it was Sunday when we always took time to catch up.
“Do you have time to talk?”
“Uh-oh. What’s wrong?”
I began to pace the length of my living room. “I don’t want to get into it if I can’t tell the whole story.”
“I’ve got a while before I need to leave to meet a client.”
“Are you at home?”
“I am.”
“Then let’s FaceTime.”
A few moments later, her face appeared on my screen. She looked perfectly put together as always. She narrowed her eyes and studied me, twirling her ponytail around her fingers. “You look… exhausted.”
“In other words, I look like shit.”
“Well, I didn’t want to say it that way.”
“Since when do you care about protecting my feelings?”
“Since I’m worried about you. What’s this all about?”
Candace was the only one I’d told about working with the Theriots.
I’d hesitated to tell her, but there wasn’t anyone I was closer to, and I needed someone to know.
I knew there was a possibility I might simply disappear after that, and I figured it was best if my family could at least have some idea of where I went.
I loved my mom, but I certainly wasn’t going to tell her I was working with the mob.
“Remember the people I worked with a few weeks ago to deal with that drug-running problem.”
“Fuck, Eric. You’re not mixed up with them again, are you?”
“Someone has come in and taken over the business we thought we’d stopped. Someone a lot worse than the man we dealt with.”
I hated seeing the worry on her face. “Can’t you call in the FBI or something?”
“The last thing I’m going to do is call the feds. They’ll just fuck everything up.”
She rolled her eyes. “You shouldn’t be dealing with something like this.”
“It’s crime that’s happening in my parish.”
“A place you have no reason to be. You could be back here with me. You could be working for a security firm or any number of things that would be?—”
“I was in danger all the time as part of the Baltimore PD.”
“Not like this. This is, like, action-movie danger.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’ve been shot at, dealt with addicts who were so hyped up they couldn’t feel anything, and caught murderers. This isn’t new.”
Candace shook her head. “You’re lying. That little wrinkle right there?—”
She pointed her finger at the screen to where I’d wrinkled the space between my eyebrows. It was my tell, and no matter how hard I tried I couldn’t stop doing it. It was a damn good thing Ambrose hadn’t noticed yet. At least I hoped he hadn’t.
“Did they come to you again, expecting you to just fall in line with their plan like before?” Candace asked.
“No, I contacted them—one of them—the one who negotiated with me before.”
“Ambrose?”
Had I told her his name? I’d tried to keep names out of it to the extent that I could. “Yeah.”
“The one you constantly talked about.”
I hadn’t talked about him any more than the others, had I? I couldn’t help that he was the main Theriot I’d interacted with. “I don’t think?—”
“The one you have a thing for.”
“What?”
“Don’t deny it. I can tell right now you know what I mean.” Why had I called her, and why the hell had I wanted her on video where she could see my face and read everything I was trying to hide?
“All right. He’s hot, and I’m attracted to him. It’s not going to go anywhere. He’s straight, and we couldn’t be worse for each other.”
“What the fuck is wrong with you, Eric? Why do you always fall for the straight ones?”
“I don’t always fall for straight guys, and just because I think he’s hot doesn’t mean I’m falling for him.”
“Eric, you know you’re sadly incapable of casual relationships. That’s how you ended up moping for so long after you finally realized Dean was never going to admit he was gay or bi or whatever the appropriate label would be for him.”
I’d had enough. “This isn’t why I called.”
“Are you sure about that? Or did you actually call so I would talk you out of pursuing him?”
“I’m not pursuing him, and I can’t let you talk me out of working with him. I can’t fight this dealer on my own. I need Ambrose’s help. His family wants the guy gone as much as I do.”
“The enemy of my enemy?”
“Yes, just like before.”
“You don’t need me to talk you out of risking your fucking life over this, but you need me to keep you from making a huge personal mistake. The professional ones I’ve pretty much given up on.”
“Candace. I wasn’t going to let the chief?—”
She held up her hand. “I know. You did what you needed to do. I don’t blame you for that. It was a hard call, and you stuck to your values.”
“I’m still doing that.”
“Are you? Working with these men?”
“I am. I need these drugs out of my parish.”
“Won’t they just take the traffic somewhere else.”
I frowned. “Not if my assistants eliminate them.”
“Kill them you mean? And do they actually think of themselves as your assistants?”
“No. They think of me as an informant for them. They don’t even want me to take part in this.”
“Well, that’s smart of them.”
“Why doesn’t anyone seem to understand I am capable of doing my job?”
She raised her brows. “Is this your job?”
“Capturing men who are committing crimes in my jurisdiction? Yes, that is exactly my job.”
“Working with the mafia?”
“Sometimes we have to make difficult choices about who we work with.”
“Uh-huh.”
Why did my justifications sound so much weaker when I said them to Candace? “I can’t let this man move into my jurisdiction. He’s not going to stop with simply using the area as a holding place for drugs.”
Candace sighed. “I know. I wouldn’t want to have to make the choices you do, but I’m worried about you.”
“I’ll be careful.”
“How careful can you be in this situation?”
Not very . “I’m doing my best here. This is serious. The most serious thing I’ve worked on.”
“Who would have thought that would happen in your little backwoods town?”
“Statistically—”
She held up her hand. “Spare me your crime lectures. Could you at least try to protect your heart?”
“I’ll wear a bulletproof vest. That’s the best I can do.”
“Dammit, Eric, you know what I mean.”
I did, and if I were honest with myself, I would admit she was right. Part of the reason I called her was to talk about Ambrose. I just didn’t know if I could actually do it now that we were on the phone.
“Talk to me, Eric.” She might be my little sister, but she ordered me around better than anyone else ever had.
“I really don’t always fall for straight guys, and I…”
“What?”
“I’m not sure about this one. He’s… interested.”
“That’s worse. He’s going to play around with you, satisfy his curiosity, and then go back to his safe life dating women.”
“I’m not sure he dates.”
She rolled her eyes. “That’s the worst thing you’ve said yet.”
“No, I don’t mean he plows through hookups.”
She giggled. “Literally.”
I scowled at her. “He’s a recluse. He lives way out in the bayou and barely talks to anyone.”
“Great. You’ve fallen for a straight weirdo.”
“He’s not—” Fuck. I was giving myself away by defending him so strongly.
Candace sighed. “Eric, what are you doing?”
“Being a fucking idiot.”
“Don’t. Forget about this guy.”
“I have to work with him on this. I can’t do this alone.”
“Fine, I trust your instincts on law enforcement. On men…” She shook her head. “Keep everything professional.”
“Candace, I doubt I’ll have a chance for anything else, but just so you know, his brother is gay, and his cousins are either gay or bi. It’s not like his life would be over if he admitted he wanted a man.”
“But does he?”
“I’m sure he wants something.” Peace. Comfort. Sanity. “I’m just not sure what.”
“Be careful. Shit, I’ve got to go. Check in with me tomorrow, all right?”
“Yeah. Thanks for listening.”
“Always.”