36. Where This Is Going
THIRTY-SIX
Where This Is Going
Harry
H arry was in his office, dealing with email, thinking one thing he knew for certain about his future. When he retired, he wasn’t going to have a fucking email.
He sensed someone coming, looked up and saw Sean knock on the frame of his door.
Harry did not like the expression on his deputy’s face.
“Hey, Sean,” he greeted.
Sean knew that was the invitation it was, and he entered Harry’s office.
He sat across from Harry and said, “As you asked, ran down the gun found in Clifford Ballard’s hand.”
Harry was stunned. “You found it?”
“Yep.”
“How did you find it?” Harry asked, shocked he had, since there was no record of what happened to it in the case file, and no record of it in their evidence locker.
“Those morons gave it to Ballard’s mother.”
Harry had no idea what to think of that, it was so wrong in so many ways.
First, through ballistics testing, it was proved to be the instrument of Ballard’s death, which turned out to be a homicide, and considering there was definitely a cover-up, not “losing” it or finding some other way to sully the path to using it as evidence was so fucking stupid, Harry didn’t know how to process it.
Second, giving it to the victim’s mother like it actually was her son’s property (when it wasn’t), and it was the weapon that took his life was…
Harry couldn’t find words to describe it.
Stupid. Cruel. Insane. Inept.
Those were the words that sprang to mind.
For fucks’ sake, with the minutest amount of scrutiny, this wasn’t anywhere near a successful cover-up. It was only Dern’s negligence that meant it had gone on this long.
“Ran the serials, Harry,” Sean cut into his thoughts.
Harry nodded for him to go on.
“Chased it back…here,” Sean said.
Harry stared even as he felt his pulse stutter.
“Here?”
“Missing from the evidence locker.” Sean’s eyes dropped to the stack of files they had yet to dive into that had been pulled in the audit. “It was the weapon that shot Terence Dinklage.”
This being why the shooting of Terence Dinklage, a man who didn’t die, but he did lose the use of his legs, had been pulled in the audit. The weapon missing from the evidence locker.
That crime had never been solved, regardless that Terence reported he had an ongoing and escalating dispute with his neighbor about the eastern boundary of his property.
After one of many heated arguments about that very thing, later that day, when Terence was on his riding mower, mowing an area of his eight acres that was close to that boundary, he’d been shot in the back.
Two days later, the gun had been found in a dumpster in town and turned in by a traveling hippie who had been dumpster diving behind the Double D, foraging for food.
It was registered to Dinklage’s neighbor, Albert Tremblay, who had conveniently reported it stolen a week before the incident.
However, this was another case Harry had pulled, because he questioned the veracity of the dates this theft was reported, considering it was entirely too coincidental, and one thing cops hated and many flatly refused to believe in were coincidences.
No prints were found on the weapon.
The case hadn’t tanked because the gun had disappeared from the Fret County evidence locker. No matter how adamant Dinklage was that it was Tremblay who shot him, he’d been shot in the back. He didn’t see the shooter. And Tremblay’s wife reported he was in all that afternoon, watching a Mariners game on TV.
Another sheriff might have pushed it, dug deeper, but Dern didn’t.
Worse, Farrell was lead on both cases. This could either explain the lazy detective work or be another indication Farrell was bent.
This incident occurred about six months before Ballard was shot.
And tracing that weapon back to their evidence locker meant the only real likelihood of who could get their hands on it was a cop.
Following that thread, it shone the light even brighter on Abernathy, or as an outside possibility, Farrell as the shooter in the Ballard case.
“You know what this means?” he asked Sean.
Sean winced, as any good cop would when confronted with the actions of a bad one.
“Yeah,” he replied.
Harry pulled the stack of files closer and yanked out Tremblay’s theft and Dinklage’s shooting.
He tossed them on his desk in front of Sean and said, “Look through those. Then talk with Dinklage and Tremblay. Specifically Tremblay, and find people who know him. I want to know all about the dispute those two had. I also want to know if he has any ties to Dern, Farrell or Abernathy.”
“You mean, start from the beginning?” Sean asked, sounding surprised.
“When I had time, I was going to talk to you, Wade and Karen. We need at least another investigator, with the growth in this county, it’d be better to have more. This means I need one, or all of you, to sit the detective’s exam.”
“We got money for that?”
Harry tapped the stack. “We’re up to our necks, Sean, and I suspect that isn’t going to end anytime soon. I’ll find the money to promote when you pass.”
“You think I’m ready for that?”
Sean was one of Harry’s hires. He’d done three years as a beat cop in Seattle before his wife got pregnant, and both of them decided they wanted to raise their kids somewhere safer and quieter than the big city, and not incidentally, Sean’s job would be safer too.
This meant he had seven years of police work under his belt.
“I’m not sure why you’re questioning it,” Harry remarked.
“I thought you’d go for Wade.”
“As I said, this county is growing. Rus is the best at what he does, but he’s not Superman.” Harry indicated his computer with his hand. “And I’ve got to have half a mind to budgets, liaising with town councils and the County Commission, and twenty other admin tasks I can’t let slide. I’ve got a jail to run, traffic to maintain, warrants to serve, a courthouse to keep safe, parole officers to support. It’s time to promote, and you three have what it takes, so I want you three to consider this and make a decision.” He tipped his head to the two files. “You can start with those. I want Rus focused, and considering I don’t have a conflict of interest with anyone in those cases, you can run things with me. But yes. You’re ready for it. And yes, I want you to start with the basics on those files and work up.”
Harry leaned into his forearms on his desk and finished it.
“Link that gun to Abernathy or Farrell. Link Tremblay to Dern or Farrell. Connect the dots.” He sat back. “If there are no dots to connect, find what dots there are and show them to me. I’ll supervise, but you’re driving on this one, Sean. Let’s get some good work done.”
Sean nodded, one side of his lips lifting up, before he took the files and walked out of Harry’s office.
He nearly ran into Harrys’ dad as he left.
“Sorry,” Sean said.
“Takes two to tango,” Greg Moran replied good-naturedly.
Sean smiled at Harry’s dad, nodded to him and disappeared.
Greg came in.
“Surprised you can walk straight, considering you’ve spent the afternoon with your crew at The Hole,” Harry joked as he watched his father take a seat.
“My boy’s the sheriff. Not feeling like getting a DUI. It might be embarrassing for him.”
Harry grinned. “Obliged.”
“Caro’s going to stay another day, as planned. I’m gonna run her into Seattle, then come back, stay at the old place,” his dad announced.
Harry wasn’t a fan of that.
And he saw that his father wasn’t over his concern of the day before.
“Dad—”
“No, Harry,” Greg cut him off. “You still got my old shotguns. I’ll replace the camera with something that gives me a heads-up I got company. I’ll oversee the replacement of the windows once the insurance company gets itself sorted. Though, I reckon whatever weaselly-assed coward pulled that shit, he did it because he knew you weren’t there. Probably not gonna pull any more shit if someone’s there.”
“And he might,” Harry pointed out.
“So he’ll get some buckshot in him if he does,” Greg returned.
As sheriff, no matter he wouldn’t mind Karl Abernathy running from a shotgun pointed at him, he couldn’t condone anyone pointing a shotgun at anybody.
“Dad—” Harry tried again.
“Let me save you the time and trouble,” Greg interrupted. “You can talk, and you can talk some more, I’m not going anywhere, but I am gonna stay there. This is not about me doubting you can handle yourself or your job. I know you can handle both. This is deeper, and we both know it.”
Harry wasn’t sure what he was talking about.
“Care to explain?” he invited.
“One, Lillian’s it for you.”
No hesitation, Harry nodded to confirm.
“You two gonna have kids?”
Harry nodded again.
“Well, I’ve had discussions with Caro. I like the weather down there, but I hate missing out on my boys’ lives and watching my grandbabies grow up. I told her I wanted to become a snowbird, find something small somewhere up here so I’m closer to you both for half a year. If you and Lillian move on with what you got, that move is definitely going to happen. Caroline came to Phoenix with her ex when her kids were in grade school. They’re all close, though obviously not the ex.”
When his dad smiled, Harry smiled back.
Greg kept talking.
“She gets all the good stuff all the time. But she says she’ll be happy to spend six months up here with me. Gets her out of grandma duties, something she loves, but I’ll be frank, one of her daughters takes advantage. Acts like Caro has no life outside looking after her kids. She can’t pull that shit if Caro is fifteen hundred miles away.”
Harry didn’t say anything, even if he thought it sucked one of Caroline’s daughters was thoughtless and treated her mom like that.
His father did say something.
“I got love and memories in that house, Harry. I raised my two sons in that house. I may have lost my wife while we were there, but I did right by our boys there. Josh and I spoke, and he feels the same. We see the writing on the wall. You’ve cared for it, but you don’t care for it.”
Harry opened his mouth, but his dad kept talking.
“We understand. Absolutely. But Josh and me want to buy it from you, pull down the stables, put up something we can put toys in, ATVs, snowmobiles, a boat. Spruce up the house. New kitchen. New décor. Amanda and Caroline would love digging into that. I come up in the summer, got a place to stay that’s closer to my boys, real close to you, and Josh has a weekend getaway where he can take his family.” A heavy pause and then, “And you’re shot of it, and what you lost there, but maybe we can make it into something different, for us, for you, so we all can make new memories and keep it in the family.”
“You know Lillian and I are very new,” Harry warned.
His father’s brown eyes grew intent. “I know you. I see her. I know that’s true, and I know where this is going. And I’ll admit, that’s part of it. For me and for Caroline. Lillian lost her father. I’m a father. You’re not. You don’t get what it feels like, even though I don’t know her all that well, to know she’s a woman alone in this world without her dad. Caroline feels the same about Lillian losing her mom. I know Ronetta and George fill those shoes. But you can’t have enough people looking out for you.”
Fuck, but Harry loved his dad.
And Caroline was a damn fine woman.
Greg wasn’t finished.
“And I will be beholden to her until my dying day for making you see there’s life after Winnie.”
Harry felt his chest squeeze.
His father kept going, but this time, his voice lowered.
“I loved that girl like a daughter. She was perfect for you. I miss her to this day. I hurt for you…to this day. I will say, I was a little concerned, what with you meeting Lillian during this sad time, and what that might mean, you being you and what you do for a living.”
Harry spoke, and his tone was steely. “It isn’t that.”
“I know, son,” Greg said quietly. “Again, when you’re a father, you’ll get it. You worry about pretty much everything, especially if it has to do with your child’s happiness. Even if I met her at her parents’ memorial, I saw right away it wasn’t that. Is she leaning on you? Yes. Are you a man who doesn’t feel right if he isn’t strong enough for the people he cares about to lean on? Yes again. But it’s very obviously not about that. And even if I didn’t notice it, the way Ronetta and George are with you two, I would have gotten it.”
Greg took a moment, and Harry let him, before his dad hit him with it.
“Lillian isn’t a thing like Winnie. Doesn’t look like her. Doesn’t act like her. I don’t know how you did it, Harry. But you found another wonderful woman who’s perfect for you.”
Harry didn’t realize he was holding his breath until his father said that, and he let it out.
Greg went on, “It isn’t like the buyback of the house has to happen tomorrow. But I don’t want some asshole to get it in his head that maybe he can trip your trigger faster, say he burns the place down or something. And I want more time with you. I miss my son. I want to get to know Lillian better. And frankly, Harry, I miss home.”
What could he say to that?
“We’ll talk about it more later, but if you stay there, I want those cameras installed.”
Greg Moran grinned.
“Caroline’s going to come up with you?” Harry asked leadingly.
Greg shrugged. “We both thought we could keep it casual. We both were wrong. One of the reasons I can work with Josh on the buyback is because I’m selling the house down in Phoenix and we’re moving in together.”
Harry’s smile was broad at learning that news.
“I dig that for you, Dad,” Harry told him, his words loaded with feeling.
“I dig it too,” Greg replied, smiling his own wide smile.
“We should talk about dinner tonight, if Caroline’s leaving the day after tomorrow.”
“She has an evening flight. We’ve got time. We can do dinner tomorrow night. But I think Lillian needs a break from everyone up in her face and space. They all got good intentions, but we both know, Harry, shit happens, but life goes on. You have to settle into life getting on, because you’re not always going to have people around to distract you.” More intent in his gaze. “And you have to have the space to deal with it without distractions.”
Harry couldn’t agree more. He’d learned that lesson the hard way, distracting himself with work, and not getting on with life.
Lillian hadn’t complained.
The memorial was behind them. Lillian had placed the urn on a chest in her living room with the original picture of her parents that had been enlarged for the service resting in a fancy frame beside it. Sherise had left that morning. Shane had an afternoon flight he was probably on right then.
The stage was set.
Lillian had to get back to real life.
“I might be with you at the house,” Harry told his father.
His dad burst out laughing.
When it started to wane, Harry stated, “I’m just staying with Lillian due to what’s been happening.”
“You try to leave that girl, go ahead, see what happens,” Greg suggested, sounding like just the thought was hilarious.
“You were right earlier, Dad, she needs space.”
“From me , Caro, people sending her flowers and covering her in casseroles. Not you, boy. Christ.”
“Again, we haven’t even been together a month.”
They’d barely been together two weeks, and only that if he was looking at it like Lillian did, and their first “date” was the first day they met.
“If I’ve told you this once, I’ve told you the story a million times. Yor mother opened the door to me when I picked her up on our first date, she smiled at me, and I knew I was going to marry her. You just know. You knew with Winnie. You know with Lillian. And I’m telling you, son, no matter what’s going on, she isn’t missing she knows it with you.”
“I’m aware. We’ve discussed this,” Harry shared. “But she still needs?—”
“You.”
“Dad—”
Greg shook his head. “You do what you gotta do to make it right in that head of yours. Part of me is proud you’ve got such a firm grip on right and wrong. Part of me wonders where we went wrong with how stubborn you are. But you’ll see.”
Harry decided it wasn’t worth the effort to discuss it further.
“Right. We’ll see. So dinner tomorrow night?”
“At the Bon Amie. I’ll make reservations,” Greg decided, then mumbled, “I hope they still have those pork chops.”
“They do,” Harry confirmed.
“Right,” Greg replied. “Say, seven o’clock? Talk to Lillian. Let us know. And if George and Ronetta want to join, they’re welcome.”
Harry nodded.
His dad stood.
And again, Greg didn’t hesitate to hit him with it.
“Love you, boy.”
This was something about his father that always pierced Harry right through the heart.
Greg Moran never let the bullshit ideals of masculinity get in the way of sharing what he was feeling. Josh and Harry always knew they were loved, not only because their father showed it, but because he told them.
He’d noticed Josh did the same with his wife and his kids. His children were young, two and four, but Josh said it, often and with feeling.
And when Harry had people to love, he did too.
“Love you too, Dad,” Harry replied.
That was when Greg treated his son to something else he’d never been stingy with.
A look of unadulterated pride.
And with that, Greg Moran walked out of his boy’s office.