4. Ledger
Ledger
“Oh, I know who you are, and I’m sure you know who I am,” she mumbles.
“I do,” I tell her.
Shiloh glances at Tatum, and she smiles sadly. “I’ll give you two some privacy.”
Shiloh rolls her eyes and winces as she takes a breath.
“Do you want to tell me what happened here?” I ask her gently.
She purses her lips and gives me an ‘are you serious’ look despite her swollen lip.
It takes everything in me not to smile.
Her curly blonde hair messily frames her face, and one eye might be swollen shut, but her hazel eye drills into me with challenge.
Shiloh Sullivan has always been a little brash, but tough. Everyone knew when her parents divorced, and being raised by a single dad, I’d imagine she had to figure out a lot on her own.
“What do you think happened?” she asks. “I fell down the stairs?”
“I don’t know? Did you fall, and then somehow punch yourself in the face and cut your head open?” I ask her.
She huffs. “I was jumped by some random people.”
I stare at her for a moment. Yes, we’ve had more crime issues recently, but not like this. I know she’s lying, but the bigger question is why? She’s been dating Grey since we were in high school. I suspect he did this, but if she won’t tell me I can’t really do anything.
“Do you have any descriptions?” I ask her.
“No, I didn’t get a good look at them as they were kicking me in the ribs,” she says.
“I see, and where did this occur?” I ask her.
“Behind the diner,” she says.
“Did anyone help you? Did you call for help?” I ask her.
“Nope,” she says.
“Uh-huh, so let me get this straight. You were jumped behind the diner. You didn’t call for help, no one saw anything, and you drove yourself here?” I ask her.
She blinks and I see nothing but pain cross her hazel eyes. “Yeah, sounds right to me,” she rasps.
“Okay, I’ll write it up, and we’ll keep an eye out for these … hoodlums.”
“Thanks for doing your job,” she mumbles.
I pin my lips together, but I can’t hold it in. “Shiloh, if Grey did this to you, we will protect you. But you need to tell me if he did. The details are important. It’s how we can hold him accountable.”
She stares at me, and I think maybe she’s reconsidering, but her phone rings. “That’s it, sheriff, thanks,” she says and slowly reaching for her phone.
No desire to see her struggle anymore, I walk over to the side table and hand it to her.
“Thanks,” she rasps.
I hesitate, wondering what I can say to help her understand she’s safe now. I’ll post someone here to protect her from him. Hell, I’ll stand outside her room myself, if that would help. But when she leaves here, there’s only so much I can do, and I hope he doesn’t come back to do worse.
“No, please. I’ll pay for three more nights.” She pauses. “Yes, charge it to my card,” she says, and her voice breaks.
I tip my hat and leave her room.
Tatum meets me at the corner of the hall, and I shake my head.
“She won’t talk, Tate,” I tell her.
She frowns. “I’ve seen this before. They’re scared because they think he’ll do it again.”
I grit my teeth. “I know, but something tells me she has other plans.”
“What do you mean?” Tatum asks.
“I’m not sure, but I have a feeling whoever hit her won’t do it again.”
“Let’s hope you’re right,” she says.
I nod and slip my pen into my pocket. “I hope so, too.”
“Hey are you going out tonight?” Tatum asks.
I glance down at my notebook.
“I don’t think I’ll make it, Tate, sorry.”
She lifts a shoulder. “It’s fine. Your time is better spent on her,” Tatum says, throwing her thumb over her shoulder. “Fletcher wants to take me dancing, though I don’t know if I have the energy. But I figured it would be fun to hang out with everyone. It’s your turn now.”
I shake my head, feeling a burn in my chest. “I don’t know what y’all are on about. I’m doing just fine.”
“We know Ledge, but we all want to see you happy is all.”
“I appreciate that, Tate,” I say and tip my hat to her before leaving the clinic.
When I get back into my car, I radio into the station and tell them I’m going to go speak with someone at the diner to get more information.
“No problem, Calder is already out on patrol.”
“Great, thanks, Daisy.”
“You’re welcome!” she says cheerily.
When I walk into Bradford’s Diner, a classic red and white 1950s diner, they’re hopping. Mollie-Mae smiles at me as she carries a pitcher of tea. “Find yourself a seat, sheriff. I’ll be right with you,” she says.
“Mollie-Mae,” I say, tipping my hat. “I’m here on official business,” I tell her.
“Oh,” she says softly.
“Can I go talk to Jenkins in the back?” I ask her.
“Yeah, go ahead,” she says, looking over her shoulder at the window.
I walk around the bar people sit at to eat and back to the kitchen.
“Hey, Jenkins.”
He looks up and flips a burger. “Sheriff, what can I do for ya?” he asks.
“Well, I got a call regarding Shiloh Sullivan. She claims she was jumped at the back of the diner.”
He frowns and looks at the back door. “I didn’t hear a thing. She said it was out back?” he asks.
I nod. “She claimed a group jumped her.”
Jenkins stares at me as if I’ve grown a third eye, and it blinks in the center of my forehead.
“I feel terrible, sheriff, but I didn’t hear a thing. And if I did, I would have shown them the business end of the shotgun right there,” he says, nodding to the one hanging on the wall.
I assumed that was the case. “Was anyone working now on the same shift as Shiloh?” I ask him.
“I don’t think so. It was a new shift, people coming and going. But she only left about six or so hours ago,” he says. “But is Shy okay?” he asks.
“No, Jenkins, she’s not, but she got medical attention, and she will be.”
He frowns and flips another burger, barely looking at it.
“Do y’all have cameras?” I ask him.
Jenkins shakes his head. “Only on the front door and by the office. I don’t think Mrs. B had it wired for out back.”
Of course.
“Thank you for your time.”
“No problem. I hope you catch the bastards that did it,” Jenkins says.
I nod and turn to leave the kitchen.
“Hey, Sheriff?” Jenkins calls.
“Yeah?”
“You know, I did hear Shiloh talking to Mollie-Mae about her boyfriend. It sounded to me like something happened. I don’t know what, but… maybe that can help.”
I give him a grim smile. “Thanks, Jenkins, I’ll make a note of it. Take care now.”
He dips his chin, and I gesture for Mollie when she gets a second.
She gets a new Coke for Mary and Lou Roberts, then wanders over to me. “Did you want something to eat, sheriff?”
“No, Mollie, I was wondering what Shiloh Sullivan told you about Grey.”
She sighs and brushes her hands over her apron. This diner may be set in the 50s, but the fact that they still wear those old waitress uniforms is kind of crazy to me. But then again, it fits the place well.
“Uh, well, she didn’t say much. She told me they broke up,” Mollie-Mae says.
“Did she tell you anything else?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “And did you hear or see anything when Shiloh was jumped about six or so hours ago?”
Mollie gasps, resting her hand over her heart. “Is she okay? Does she need anything? I know she keeps to herself for the most part, but I should check on her.”
“She’s at the emergency clinic. She had medical attention, but I need to know if you heard or saw anything.”
Mollie-Mae starts to tear up and pulls a tissue from her pocket to dab her eyes. “No, I didn’t, and I feel terrible. Is she going to be okay?”
“Yes, she is.”
“Thank God. I don’t know anything, sheriff, I’m sorry,” she says.
“That’s alright, thank you, Mollie.”
She nods and gives me a small smile.
Before I walk out the door, Jenkins calls for me and shoves a bag with a burger and fries into my hand. I didn’t want it, but I’m not going to just take it. I pull my wallet out to pay, and he waves his hands.
“No, no, on the house. Go catch the guy who hurt Shiloh,” he says a little too loudly.
I wince and thank him. If Shiloh didn’t want anyone to know what happened. They will now. Though I’m sure she won’t be surprised.
The little tidbit about Grey only serves to solidify what Tate and I assume happened. So I might as well pay him a visit. If he’s not at work at Jimmy’s, then I’ll try him at home.
It’s 4:40 pm and I’m sure they are wrapping up for the day. Most places around here, short of the food joints and bars, close at about five.
I go through one of the open garage doors looking for Grey, but I don’t spot him.
“Sheriff, what can I do for ya?” Jimmy asks.
“Hey Jimmy, I’m looking for Grey Kensington. Is he around?” I ask.
Jimmy makes a face and tosses his thumb over his shoulder. “He’s probably putting his tools away.”
I thank him and walk past him towards the back of the shop where all the guys keep their toolboxes. But as I look around and check in their break room, he’s nowhere to be found. I ask a few of the other employees, and they all shrug. “I think he went home early, sheriff,” Bob says.
“Thanks, Bob.”
He nods and I head back to my cruiser. Grey must have slipped past me, or I was too late.
Either way, it’s fine. I’d like to see the house, if I can.
It could provide evidence that will confirm what I know in my gut is true.
There was never a gang of men that jumped Shiloh.
It was her piece of shit boyfriend, that sounds like an ex now.
After I radio my location and destination to base, I head out to Grey Kensington’s property.
I know it’s a double-wide on the east side of town about twenty minutes away.
We’ve arrested Grey before. Shiloh has even bailed him out.
He’s the son of Kensington Sr., and involved in the operation, but we could never get anything enough to stick to him.
The DA for this county and the next said catching him on possession wasn’t enough and it definitely wouldn’t be enough to get to the Kensingtons as a whole, and we needed more. So we had to let him go.
I turn onto his street. Kids are home from school and playing outside. His truck is here, so maybe he is too.
Walking up the steps to the front door, I spot red splotches on the handrail. It doesn’t look fresh, as if he got home and was bleeding. But it doesn’t look old either.
My gut twists, and I knock on the door.
I hear a grumble and then footsteps before the door swings open. Before I address him, I swiftly scan my eyes over every area I can see, and it’s not much. “Grey,” I say, finally meeting his eyes.
He’s a little shorter than my six foot one, and his dark brown hair is shaved on the side, and a couple of tattoos on his arms. He’s strong, and I’m sure it took no effort to knock five-foot-nothing Shiloh around.
Grey puffs out his chest and crosses his arms.
“What can I help you with, sheriff?” Grey asks snidely.
It takes everything in me not to smile at him with satisfaction.
He can’t stand me and I couldn’t care less.
I’ve never liked him, always thought he was an asshole, even when we were kids.
He was always getting into trouble and dragging others with him, like Shiloh.
I’m not someone who blames the sins of the father on the child, but me, and this whole town know what terrible people the Kensingtons are, and Grey thinks he’s untouchable.
I study him for a moment, noting his shiner. Instead of trying to feel him out, I gesture to his face.
“How did you get that?” I ask him.
He lifts a shoulder. “Got into a scuffle with some friends, that’s all.”
“Is that right?”
“Yeah, why?” he asks. His cool demeanor changes and I can see the nervous glint in his eyes.
“What’s the nature of your relationship with Shiloh Sullivan?” I ask him.
He takes a step back, and it’s not a conscious decision, but it’s all the answer I need.
“Uh, we aren’t together. Why do you ask?” he asks.
“Where were you at about midmorning today?” I ask him.
“Uh, home, I came home early for lunch,” he says.
Smooth. “And was Ms. Sullivan here?”
“Yeah, she came by to get some of her things. I think.”
He’s smarter than I gave him credit for. “And did anything happen while she was here collecting her things?”
“Nope, just a little argument, then she left.”
The corner of his mouth tips up, and if someone wasn’t looking for any little clue he’s lying, they would miss it. But I don’t. He knows I know, and he knows I don’t have anything to catch him with.
“Will that be everything for you today, sheriff? I’ve got a girl coming over, need to clean up.”
I nod. “Oh really? What’s her name?”
He makes a face. “Melissa Nunez.”
“Hm, she works at the Wooden Cowboy, right?” I ask him.
Grey rubs the back of his neck and nods.
“Right, well, behave yourself, and in case something happens, give me a call,” I tell him and hand him my card.
But instead of turning to go down the stairs, I stare him down.
I want him to see that I know what he did, and I’ll be watching, and the moment he messes up, I’ll be the one putting him in cuffs.
I stand there until I can tell it makes him uncomfortable, and only then do I turn to go down the stairs.
If he had split knuckles and more than a shiner, it would have given me many more reasons to take him in.
I sigh, and before I get into the cruiser, I notice a woman looking out her window at me. I tip my hat and she drops the curtain.
My gut tells me to go knock on her door, so I cross the street and knock on her door.
She knows I’m here, so I wait a few steps back from the door. A moment later it opens, and she gestures for me to come inside. I don’t recognize her. I may know most people in this town, but I don’t know them all.
She’s older, looks to be in her mid-seventies, though her hair is blacker than night. “Ma’am. I’m Sheriff Ledger Hayes. You seem like you have something to say.”
She nods. “Yes, sir, I do. I’m Masie, by the way. I don’t think we’ve met.”
I hold my hand out, and she takes it.
She glances at her window as if she’s checking to see if Grey can see us, and I frown.
“Ms. Masie, if you have information about Grey Kensington, I’d like to hear it. And I can promise you no one will know you spoke to me. If anyone asks, you can tell them you complained to me about a stray dog running around.”
Masie nods and crosses her arms. “I’m not afraid of that little boy, Grey. I’m more concerned about the people he works with,” she says.
I keep my expression neutral.
“I didn’t see much, but I did see Grey screaming at that poor, sweet Shiloh as she ran to her car. Her head was bleeding, and she looked like she was struggling. Before I could go ask her if she needed help, she left.”
“Thank you, Ms. Maise, that’s very helpful.” I pull my card out of my pocket. “If you have any problems or remember something else, feel free to give me a call.”
“I will sheriff, I hope you can get that little man.”
I tip my hat. “I do too, Ma’am.”
She nods and walks me out.
I drive back to the station, not much further along than when I started. It helps that Ms. Maise saw Shiloh bloody, but it’s not proof Grey did it, and unless Shiloh changes her mind about what happens to her, I’m not sure what else I can do.