18. Hunter
Hunter
The station is abuzz today. Has been all week.
Everything from vandalism of holiday displays, unruly teens trashing jack-o’-lanterns, and parties featuring underage drinking.
Chris hasn’t even had a chance to grill me about how the Halloween party went with Sutton.
I sit back in my chair, unsure of which project to start on, my desk already filled with an array of files and paperwork.
Most of the time, I love my job and know it’s what I’m meant to do with my life.
But whenever Halloween rolls around, I wonder if I should have gone into a less stressful profession.
Halloween is chaotic as is, but it landing on a Friday this year will only make things worse.
I’m hopeful that after tomorrow, the crazy will diminish.
It’d be nice to spend time with my woman and not have us both passing out before eight o’clock.
A smile forms on my lips as I think of Sutton.
Coming home every night to her is a dream come true even if it’s not to our house.
I look forward to hearing about her day and what project she’s working on.
She’s already in full planning mode for the big open house after the remodel is complete, bouncing between room design, furniture deliveries, and a punch list that doesn’t seem to get any shorter.
Half the house is still in transition, with tools everywhere and rooms half finished, but she doesn’t seem to mind. If anything, she thrives in it. It’s nice to see her excited about her work again.
I pull my phone out and fire a text to her.
Me: You think my coworkers would notice if I left and moved to an island somewhere?
Sutton: I’m pretty sure the entire town would notice.
Sutton: Busy day?
Me: Yeah. I’m ready to be home with you.
Sutton: You’ll be glad to know the master is almost done.
“Michaels, get in here,” Chief yells from his office.
I groan inwardly at his summons. I’m texting a response when Chief pokes his head out of his office, glaring at me in a way that makes me fear for my life. Begrudgingly, I pocket my phone and join him.
“Sit down, Michaels,” he says. “We’ve got new intel.”
I don’t need to ask what intel he’s referring to. After my talk with Logan, we’ve been looking into Jack Daley. He’s been very cooperative so far with our questions, but I’m not altogether convinced he’s not involved with what’s going on here.
I pull out a chair and take a seat. “Talk to me.”
“Just got a call from Deputy Harris. Sounds like Jack’s brother, Bill, is in town.”
“Want me to go talk with Jack again? See if Bill is there? Maybe he knows something. Logan said he was busted for dealing in some coastal town, Sunset Cove.”
“Don’t go alone,” he says, eyes focused on his computer.
I gather my jacket from my desk and stop by Chris’s on my way out. “You busy?”
He looks up from his computer. “Just entering paperwork. What’s up?”
“Grab your stuff. We’re going to pay another visit to Jack.”
Chris’s face instantly lights up, and he pushes away from his desk. “Yeah, man. Let’s go.”
Jack’s trailer is on the outskirts of town. I never knew anyone owned the land, let alone lived out here anymore. At least not since the old lumber mill closed a few decades ago.
“So,” Chris says, reaching for his coffee. “How are things with you and Sutton?”
Our wish that the town rumor mill would leave us alone was always a far-flung fantasy. “Why are you asking?”
Chris chuckles. “Because Grandma Betty won’t leave me alone about it, and if I don’t give her some insider information soon, I think she’s going to write me out of her will.”
I turn down the road to Jack’s house. Our department-issued SUV proves a smooth ride. “Sutton and I are good.” My phone feels heavy in my pocket, and I long to text her back.
“Heard y’all made quite a splash at the party.” Asshole tries to hide his smirk.
Jack’s trailer appears in the distance. Thankfully, his truck is in the yard, so I hope we’re in and out. I push any thoughts of Sutton to the back of mind, hardening my facial features and preparing for anything. “Don’t let Jack out of your sight,” I say.
“You thinking he’s involved?” Chris adjusts his ballistic vest.
I pull up alongside Jack’s beat-up old Chevy and put my Suburban in park. “Not sure, but it’s strange that his brother’s in town, especially after he just got busted in Sunset Cove. Can’t be too careful.”
“Shit, look.” He gestures with his chin to the trailer’s front window. Standing, arms crossed, looking out is none other than Bill Daley.
“Fuck.” I suck in a large breath and double-check I’ve got my pistol strapped to my side. Not that I anticipate anything happening, but we know next to nothing about this guy except what little details we’ve gotten from Sunset Cove PD.
We step from my SUV and approach the trailer. We stop ten feet shy of the small front porch. I want to solve this case more than anyone, but there is no way in hell we’re entering that trailer. It’s not lost on me that Jack’s nowhere in sight.
“Watch your six,” I tell Chris.
Instantly, Chris takes a few steps back and posts up behind my right shoulder. The minutes tick by slowly as we wait Bill out. Finally, he uncrosses his arms, disappears from sight, and the front door slowly creaks open.
Bill steps out first, boots thudding against the warped porch boards. He comes midway down the porch steps, making it clear we’re not invited any closer.
Jack appears in the doorway behind him, thinner than I remember. Like sleep hasn’t found him in days.
“Well,” Bill says, crossing his arms over his chest. “Y’all sure are popular around here lately.”
“Funny,” I answer. “Was about to say the same about you.”
Bill’s mouth twitches, but his eyes flick past us, scanning the horizon like he expects someone else to be watching.
Chris shifts subtly behind my right shoulder.
“Jack?” I call out.
“Right here,” Jack mutters, stepping fully onto the porch. His hands tremble slightly, and he shoves them into his hoodie pocket. “We already talked.”
“Yeah,” I say, “we did.”
Silence settles between us. Wind drags dry leaves across the dirt. Dark and heavy storm clouds stack along the horizon.
“Your brother’s timing’s intriguing though,” I say. “We start seeing movement at lake properties, and suddenly Bill Daley shows up in town. The same man who was busted for moving drugs in Sunset Cove.”
Bill steps in front of Jack. “Family can’t visit?”
A protective brother or something else? “Normally, yeah,” I say. “But when product’s moving? No.”
At that, Jack swallows hard. Bill uncrosses his arms, eyes once again scanning the horizon.
Thunder rumbles somewhere beyond the hills, as if the approaching storm has all the time in the world.
“We’re not cooking,” Bill says.
“I know.”
That catches them both off guard.
Bill’s brows draw together. “You do?”
“From what I hear, you only ever ran small stuff. Too small for what we’re seeing,” I say.
Jack’s jaw tightens.
“So far,” I say, “you’ve covered your tracks pretty well. But then your driver dropped this.” I pull out the slip of paper with Daley written on it. “You know anything about this?”
Bill exhales slowly. “You think you’ve got it all figured out.”
“Not even close,” I say. “But I think you both are in deeper than you meant to be.”
That does it. Jack looks at Bill. Bill looks back at him. That silent exchange says more than anything they’ve spoken.
Jack steps around his brother and comes down the stairs. Chris reaches for his holster, but I nod him off. Bill remains firmly planted on the porch.
“You don’t understand,” Jack says.
“Then help me understand,” I reply.
A gust of wind rattles the loose tin skirting along the trailer, the metal clanging sharp against the quiet. Bill sits on the top step, shoulders slumped forward.
“It’s not houses anymore,” Jack mumbles.
Chris and I exchange a glance.
“Go on,” I say.
Bill rubs a hand over his mouth, foot tapping wildly, and looks right at me. “All Jack had to do was give them addresses of vacant places, but—”
“Too much attention,” Jack says. “Too many neighbors.”
“So where?” I press.
Jack hesitates, looking back at his brother, who shoots him a warning look. Jack ignores it. “I don’t know. Last I heard, they were looking industrial,” he says quietly.
My pulse ticks up, but I keep my face neutral.
“Warehouse? Storage center?”
Jack shakes his head once. “Bigger.”
Every abandoned industrial building from here to Eagle Falls runs through my mind. “For who?”
That’s when his fear hits. Not defiance or arrogance. Dread. Sweat pools along Jack’s forehead, and Bill’s breathing pattern speeds up.
“Don’t say anything, Jack.” Bill’s voice is low, firm. “You know if you start saying names, people disappear.”
Chris shifts again, scanning the property. “Are you protecting them?”
Jack lets out a humorless laugh. “Protecting? You think we’d still be living like this if we were protected?”
“Then help us understand what we’re dealing with,” I say. “Give us the information we need and we can keep you safe.”
Bill stands and steps off the porch, shoving his hands in his pockets. “You can’t protect us.”
Warning bells go off in my mind. “Maybe not,” I say. “But I can make sure they don’t keep using you.”
“We’re just trying to stay alive,” Jack adds quieter.
“The people running it?” I ask.
Bill’s eyes meet mine fully for the first time. “They don’t care who gets caught in it.”
The words hang between us, more warning than threat. I study the men for a long beat.
“When’s the next movement?” Chris asks.
Jack hesitates. Bill closes his eyes briefly.
“Two weeks,” Jack says. “Late. They move after sundown.”
“Where from?”
“I don’t know, man.” Jack shrugs and shakes his head, fingers twitching at his side.
Lie.
I nod once.
“You hear anything else,” I say evenly, “you call me. Before this gets worse.”
Bill’s jaw flexes. “It already is worse.”
I hold his stare, then step back. Chris and I head toward the SUV. As I open the door, I glance back. Jack’s already retreated inside, but Bill remains rooted in place.
Gravel crunches under my tires as I pull away. In the rearview mirror, Bill’s standing next to the porch watching the storm rolling in. Like he’s daring it to take him away.