2. Ledger
Ledger
“In pursuit, suspect is wearing a green hoodie and jean shorts, brown boots,” I pant, running after a man who broke into a house.
“Copy, sending back up,” Ellen says.
I don’t respond as I run through backyards to catch this guy.
A family called 911, terrified because someone not only broke into their house, but was tearing it up.
“Sheriff! Stop!” I yell.
He doesn’t.
Though I shouldn’t be surprised.
I pump my arms harder and make my legs go faster, gaining on him.
He looks behind with wild eyes and mouth agape, trying to outrun me. But he doesn’t seem like he hits the gym every day. The suspect changes directions and I easily follow.
He starts down a street, and I use that as my moment. Pushing a little harder, I tackle him to the ground, and he tries to fight me.
“Sheriff’s Department, you’re under arrest for breaking and entering.” I read him his Miranda rights as I handcuff him behind his back.
He groans and moans, mumbling a bunch of nonsense.
Wonderful, another one.
“Sir, what’s your name?” I ask him.
He stares at me with a glazed look on his face. He’s high as a kite.
I pat him down, hoping to find something with identification on it, but no surprise, I don’t find an ID, but a little bag of cocaine.
Holding the button on my radio, I call in to the station. “Suspect apprehended. On our way back to the cruiser to bring him in.”
“Copy, Luke is with the family taking statements,” Ellen says.
“10-4.”
My suspect and I start our walk back to my cruiser.
Luckily, he seems open to cooperation. Last week we caught a junkie that wasn’t high, yet and wanted to fight us.
When we finally got him, we found enough for intent to distribute.
He must have stocked up and was on his way to partake.
He wouldn’t tell us where he got it, even if I know where he purchased it from.
Things keep getting worse in Paxton. Break-ins have increased.
On top of theft, drug use, and trafficking.
There’s only one answer to all of it — Kensington Ranch.
The whole town knows what they do. Yet we can’t prove it.
And I’ve struggled to get any form of a warrant because I can’t offer even a picture, or find someone who will say where they purchased the drugs.
I’ve been stuck between a rock and a hard place since I became sheriff, but I’m about to crumble the rock.
I’m tired of these people bringing danger to this town, and I’ve made it my mission to bring down the Kensingtons and their growing drug empire.
They’ve been at this since I was a kid, and they’ve only hurt people along the way. It’s time for their reign to end.
The barbell clanks against the metal as I set it back in place and sit up, taking the edge of my shirt to wipe the sweat off my forehead. Checking my watch, I have twenty minutes before I need to be in my office for the day.
Luke grunts and I glance at him as he struggles to lift his barbell up. I hop up and get behind him, helping him lift it onto the hooks. He sighs and drops his arms. “Thanks, man,” he says.
“No problem,” I mumble, and make my way to the showers that connect to the main part of the station.
Walking into the office, I check my phone to find it full of messages from the family. I smile at the texts going back and forth between my brother Fletcher and Cooper, my cousin, who might as well be my brother.
They’re talking about taking their wives out and dragging me along with them. I don’t know why I go. I usually have too much to do. All I do is sit at the bar and drink a beer. I don’t flirt, and I hardly ever dance, unless my sister, June, pulls me onto the floor.
I’ve been the sheriff of Paxton County for a couple years and most would think it’s easier to pick up women, but I’ve found they either like me for my uniform, or they avoid me like the plague because I’m the law, and they’ve committed a few offenses.
There’s not a lot to do in Paxton, so getting in trouble ends up being part of growing up.
I’ve taken my fair share of stupid teenagers home and given them a stern warning.
The goal is that they grow out of it and don’t become career criminals.
I walk through the maze of desks in the small department to my office. We don’t have a huge staff here and we’re underfunded, which is typical of rural areas. Luke and Will are at their desks. Ellen and Buck must be out on patrol.
“Good morning, Ledger,” Daisy says, and hands me a cup of hot coffee.
“Morning, Daisy,” I say, smiling and take the cup to my office. I know she has a thing for me, but as the saying goes, don’t shit where you eat. Plus, the more I get to know her, she’s got a little crazy in her. For some, that works, but I don’t have patience for that.
I flip through my paperwork, approving overtime, getting schedules out, and sending emails for Daisy to fix my schedule with the court appearances I have to make.
A knock at the door pulls me from my case reading. “Come in,” I call.
“Hey boss, I have a couple of things for you,” Will says, with Luke behind him.
I wave my hand for him to come in, and he sets the file in front of me before dropping into a seat in front of my desk.
“We’ve had a few more calls about Kensington Ranch.”
I sigh and lean back in my seat. “Please tell me this one was more concrete because we barely have any decent surveillance that isn’t Kensington Sr. or Grey eating at the diner or getting a beer at Perry’s.”
Will grits his teeth and shakes his head. “Luke and I answered the call, went onto the ranch, hoping to see something. We asked old man Kensington about what was called in, and he looked at us like we were stupid for even asking.”
“I don’t understand how they haven’t slipped up. They know we’re watching, they know the whole town knows, yet we have nothing solid for a full RICO case.”
“I know. So Luke and I were trying to come up with a plan. We were wondering if we could flip someone. They could take pictures for us or something.”
“Will, you’re asking me to approve a confidential informant in Paxton,” I say incredulously.
“Yeah,” he sighs.
Confidential informants and Paxton do not go together. In this small town, everyone knows everything about everyone, and if they don’t, they’ll find out. Someone will see something, or they'll go digging themselves.
“But it’s a good idea,” Will says.
“No, you’re right. It is, but who do you think you could get to do it? The people on that ranch are loyal to a fault.”
“We were thinking his daughter, Kate.”
I huff and run my hand over my head. “Kate Kensington is about as crazy as they come. How in the world do you think she’s going to turn on her family like that?”
Will looks at me sheepishly, and I know whatever he and Luke cooked up is already in the works. I sigh exasperated at the paperwork I know is coming my way.
“Spit it out,” I grunt.
“Well … uh, Will ran into Kate at Perry’s. He talked her up and got her to go out on a date. So we were thinking if he could get in with her, then he can get her to talk,” Luke says.
“This is a gamble,” I mutter.
“It came to us when we were at Perry’s and figured ...” Will says.
“It was easier to ask for forgiveness than permission?” I ask him, lifting a brow.
“Come on, boss, we had an opening, and he took it,” Luke says.
“This better be the write-up then,” I say, pointing to the file he gave me.
“It is…” Will trails off.
I start to open my mouth, then think better of it. “You know what? I don’t want to know. I want anything pertinent to an investigation that includes working a possible informant. No more and no less, got it?”
“Yes, sir,” he says, and they stand to leave.
“Luke?”
“Yeah?” he asks, turning around.
“Watch your partner’s back. If this goes south, I have a feeling the Kensingtons will not respond kindly.”
He nods seriously.
We’ve been working this case for the majority of my time as sheriff.
I started it before I was elected, and with all my additional duties, I had to pass the majority of it off to Will and Luke.
Overall, it’s been years of light surveillance because it’s challenging to watch someone in the middle of nowhere without giving yourself up. So it has to be in town.
Regardless, we’re at a standstill and something needs to be done.
As much as it makes my skin crawl, it’s a solid play and could work in our favor to get us enough to tear the Kensington property apart.
But in the meantime, I’ll be damned if I let these druggy assholes ruin this town and kill more of our people.
“Ledger, you need to leave in fifteen for patrol,” Daisy says, poking her face around the corner.
“Thanks, Daisy,” I call.
She smiles and her long brown hair flaps behind her as if she’s walking through a wind tunnel.
I might be running this place, but we all share the burden of patrol and keeping the rest of this county safe.
Our job is to uphold the law, but sometimes it feels like it works against us with the bureaucracy, and a judge will laugh me and the DA out of his chambers if all I have is hearsay to present him for a full RICO indictment on the Kensingtons.
My phone rings, and it’s Fletcher.
Frowning, I lift it to my ear. “Fletch, is everything okay? I’ve gotta get on patrol.”
“Hello to you too, brother,” Fletcher says.
“Fletch,” I bark.
“Yes, everything is fine, but we want you to go out with us tonight,” he says.
I silently groan up at the ceiling. “I don’t know why.”
“Because we need to get you a woman, man,” he says.
“Oh, are you my wingman now that you’re married?” I ask him.
“Hell yeah, man,” Fletcher says.
I smile to myself and shake my head. I love my brother, but he is a pain in my ass. Both of them are.
“Maybe. I've gotta go, but how’s Tate doing?” I ask him.
We found out a couple of weeks ago she’s pregnant with their first.
“She’s doing well. She’s still having morning sickness stuff, but she’s handling it like a champ.”
I grunt. “Alright, I gotta get going,” I mumble.
“Okay, fine, but are you coming out with us?” he asks.
“I’ll think about it, Fletcher,” I sigh and hang up without saying goodbye.
My phone pings with a text from Cooper.
Cooper: Stop being a grumpy 30-year-old man and come out.
I roll my eyes and grab my gun, badge, and keys, heading out the door.
“Call me if you need me,” I call to Daisy.
“Okay,” she says in this weird, sighing voice.
Oh brother.
I head out the front door of the station, looking up and down the street. Everything is quiet, like it normally is. Hopefully, it’s a quiet day.
Driving through town, I circle the courthouse and weave through the side streets. It’s a sunny day, not too hot. Some of the old folks are sitting outside the Booked Bean drinking their coffee.
I drive past Paxton Flower Shop, Cooper’s wife Mae’s place and down past the bank, coming to a stop at one of the three stoplights we have in town. I’ve got ten minutes left of my patrol, so I start heading back to the station.
My radio goes off. “Uh, Sheriff,” I hear Daisy’s voice.
I roll my eyes at her lack of professionalism and code for using the radios. But I’ve given up on correcting her. My deputies use it the right way, at least.
“We got a call from your sister-in-law, Tate, at the clinic,” she says, and my stomach drops. I grab the radio and turn the truck around, gunning it to the clinic a few blocks down the road. “10-17”, I reply
“They said it’s a 501 for a woman,” Daisy says.
I puff out a breath. Tate’s fine, I’m sure.
But another woman isn’t. This is one of the harder parts of my job.
We don’t get many calls like these, but when we do, they can be nasty.
My heart twists in my chest. I don’t know how any self-respecting man can call himself a man if he hits a woman.
They deserve worse than what the law can divvy out.
I park in front of the clinic next to an old wood-sided Jeep Wagoneer that’s seen better days.
When I walk through the sliding doors, I find Tatum standing off to the side, wringing her hands.
Rushing over to her and I grab her elbow to keep her upright because she looks green and a little pale. “Are you alright? Do you need to sit down?” I ask her, trying to guide her to the chair against the wall.
She nods. “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s not the pregnancy, it’s Ledger. She won’t admit it, but …” Tatum trails off and pulls me down the hall.
“They said it was battery,” I tell her. Battery can mean a few different things in the state of Wyoming.
“She won’t say what happened.”
I frown. “Do you think she’s trying to protect who hurt her?”
Tatum shakes her head. “I don’t know, but I have a bad feeling, Ledge. Something isn’t right here.”
I swallow my anger and follow her into the woman’s room, my stomach hardening.
It’s important that I walk into this room calm and sure.
The last thing I want is for this woman to think I’m not here to help her.
But I have to swallow my surprise, seeing the woman I’ve known most of my life, laying in a hospital bed with a swollen face and head patched up with gauze.
In fact, I’ve arrested her before when I was a new deputy.
“I’ve seen it before, Ledger. I know what domestic abuse looks like, that’s why I called you,” Tatum whispers.
“But did she say that?” I ask Tatum quietly, still observing Shiloh.
“No, can you please just talk to her? If that asshole did this to her, he should pay,” Tatum says angrily.
I nod, and Tatum glances at Shiloh, still asleep. Or so I thought as she opens her eyes. We study each other, and I give her a minute to adjust.
“Ms. Sullivan, I’m Ledger Hayes.”
She smiles, and I wince, knowing it must hurt.