Chapter 25 #2
At dawn, he spotted Frankie crossing the street toward his truck with a cup of coffee in her hand. Her black knee-length skirt swayed with each step, her white blouse catching the early light. He shifted in his seat and powered down the window, a smile already tugging at his mouth.
“Good morning,” Frankie said, holding out the to-go cup.
“Morning.”
“I thought you might need coffee. It kind of comes with the job, right? I don’t have any donuts, though. My fridge is pretty bare. Oh! I found a few creamers.” She dropped them into his hand along with a sugar packet.
“Thank you, Frankie. You guessed right. I take it with cream and sugar. Blame my grandma.”
“Good to know.” She smiled. “Did you stay out here all night?”
Sawyer glanced down at the creamer he was peeling open. “Yeah. Figured I’d keep an eye out.”
“Thank you, you are too sweet.”
She leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek before heading back toward her car.
He blushed and lifted a hand to the spot she’d kissed, a slow grin spreading across his face. He sat there a second longer before putting the truck into gear, already thinking about a hot shower and maybe seeing her again later.
Sawyer adjusted his uniform collar as he stood outside the mayor’s office.
He’d rehearsed this on the drive over—play it casual, frustrated, maybe even a little defeated.
He needed to look like the rookie cop who couldn’t get a fair shake from Sheriff Reid, not the man who had sat outside Frankie’s ransacked apartment all night, waiting for someone to come back.
Frankie’s eyes grew wide when she spotted him sprinting up the steps, but she recovered quickly and pasted a smile on her face that didn’t quite reach her eyes. Not like the smile she’d graced him with earlier this morning. Pulling the door open, he asked, “Is he in his office?”
She nodded. “Go on back.”
Mayor Benson looked up from behind his mahogany desk, a practiced smile already in place. “Sawyer. Didn’t expect to see you this morning. Shouldn’t you be out writing parking tickets or whatever Nick has you doing?”
“Morning, Uncle,” Sawyer said, forcing a half-smile as he stepped inside. “I need a word.”
Benson leaned back in his chair, folding his hands over his stomach. “Go on, then. You look like a man with a gripe.”
Sawyer let out a sharp breath, pacing briefly before stopping in front of the desk. “It’s Sheriff Reid. He treats me like I’m some kid fresh out of high school. Won’t give me real assignments, keeps me chained to paperwork or traffic duty. Like I don’t know what I’m doing.”
Benson chuckled, eyes glinting. “That’s because Nick Reid doesn’t know what he’s doing.
Never has. Man got lucky in the sheriff’s race, and now he struts around like he runs this town.
” He leaned forward, voice lowering. He pointed at himself.
“I run this town. You don’t let him break you down, Sawyer.
You’re family. Because of my backing, you don’t need to prove anything to that man. ”
Sawyer swallowed hard, fighting to keep his face neutral. “Yeah, but sometimes it feels like no matter what I do, he’ll never trust me.”
“That’s because he knows where your loyalty lies,” Benson said smoothly. “And that scares him. He knows if push comes to shove, you’ll be on my side.”
The words sent a prickle down Sawyer’s spine. On my side. He forced himself to nod. “I guess. Still, some nights I wonder if the sheriff’s the only one making things harder for me.”
Benson’s smile didn’t falter, but his eyes narrowed, sharp as glass. “Meaning?”
Sawyer hesitated, testing the waters. “Frankie’s place got hit last night. Trashed. Looked . . . personal.”
Benson’s gaze flicked away, just for a second, then back again. “Unfortunate. Probably kids. Or some angry ex-boyfriend of hers. You know how she is—always had a knack for trouble.”
His uncle had complained about Frankie before, inferring that because she was raised by her grandmother after her parents took off, she came from “the wrong side of the tracks.”
Sawyer, who’d grown up on that same side of the tracks, held in his disdain for his uncle. The dismissive tone made his teeth clench. “Yeah. Maybe.” He shifted his stance, feigning uncertainty. “But it sure didn’t look random.”
Benson steepled his fingers, studying him. “You’re a good cop, Sawyer. But sometimes good cops see shadows where there aren’t any. Keep your head down, do your job, and leave the rest to me. Understand?”
Sawyer nodded, but inside, his gut twisted. His uncle’s smooth deflection was too polished, too quick. And the way he’d brushed off Frankie—like she was disposable—set Sawyer’s blood boiling.
“Yes, sir,” he said quietly.
“Good,” Benson replied, already reaching for another file. “Now get out there and make me proud.”
Sawyer left the office, trying hard not to clench his fists at his sides. His uncle had responded like he knew he would.
He headed down the hallway toward the door that separated the mayor’s office from the sheriff’s office. He punched in the code and headed straight for Nick’s door. It was half open when Sawyer knocked once on the frame.
“Come in,” Nick said without looking up.
Sawyer stepped inside and shut the door behind him. “You hear about last night?”
Nick glanced up, expression steady. “Frankie’s place? Yeah. I heard.”
Sawyer nodded, jaw tight. “I stayed out there.”
“I know.” Nick leaned back in his chair. “Nothing taken.”
“Right.” Sawyer crossed his arms. “Because they were looking to steal something in particular.”
Nick watched him. “Go on.”
Sawyer took a breath. “Something is going on, and I want to get to the bottom of it. Frankie knows more than she’s saying.”
Nick didn’t react, but his eyes sharpened. “I suspect she does, yes.”
“Yeah,” Sawyer said, a hint of frustration slipping through, “but I don’t think we’re looking close enough.”
Nick gestured to the chair. “Then sit down and tell me why.”
Sawyer sat, leaning forward, forearms braced on his knees. “My uncle, Morty.”
“What about him?”
“He just bought a new truck. Paid cash. No way he’s pulling that kind of money being mayor.” Sawyer shook his head. “And he’s wearing a Rolex or something just as expensive. He didn’t have that kind of money before.”
Nick’s mouth twitched faintly at that.
“If he’d won the lottery,” Sawyer went on, “he’d be telling anyone who’d listen.” He shook his head again. “He likes people knowing he’s doing well. He’s keeping quiet.”
“You’re saying the mayor is involved in something illegal,” Nick said.
“I’m saying he’s connected to whatever Frankie must have uncovered.” Sawyer met his gaze. “And someone broke into her place because of it.”
Nick tapped a pen once against his desk. “That’s a serious accusation.”
“I know.” Sawyer held steady. “That’s why I want to prove it.”
Nick leaned back, studying him. “And how exactly do you plan to do that?”
Sawyer hesitated just long enough for it to land. “He’s got an apartment above his garage.”
Nick didn’t move.
“I could ask to stay there,” Sawyer continued. “It wouldn’t even raise a flag. My mom’s boyfriend just moved in and I’ve been meaning to move out anyway. This gives me a reason. I can play it up that there isn’t space for me anymore, boxes everywhere, no quiet.”
Nick’s gaze narrowed slightly. “And Morty will let you move in?”
“He will.” Sawyer nodded. “If I push the ‘I need space’ angle hard enough, he’ll offer.”
“And once you’re in?”
“I watch.” Sawyer’s voice lowered. “See who comes and goes. What’s getting dropped off. And . . .” He hesitated, then added, “He’s not exactly tech-savvy. If there’s anything on his computer—records, messages—I can find it.”
Nick’s jaw tightened.
“I’ll get proof,” Sawyer continued. “I don’t know what Frankie has, but I can get what we need to move on him.”
Silence stretched.
Nick stood slowly, bracing his hands on the desk. “You don’t go digging through someone’s personal property without a warrant.”
Sawyer held his ground. “Then I’ll find another way.”
Nick exhaled, slow and controlled. “No. We don’t cut corners. A judge isn’t going to sign off on a hunch. We need probable cause before we ask for a warrant.”
“So we wait?”
“We build the case. And until then, you don’t engage. You don’t confront. You don’t take unnecessary risks.”
“I won’t.”
“You observe,” Nick continued, pointing at him. “And you report back to me. Everything.”
Sawyer nodded. “Every step.”
“And the second this feels bigger than you can handle, you walk away.”
A flicker of something like respect passed between them.
“Yes, sir.”
Nick studied him one more time, then sat back down. “I’m not officially approving this.”
Sawyer’s mouth tipped slightly. “Wouldn’t expect you to.”
“But if you happen to find yourself needing a place to stay,” Nick said dryly, “and your uncle happens to have a place to stay . . .”
“I’ll be a very observant tenant.”
Nick shook his head once. “You’re going to make my life difficult.”
Sawyer stood. “Or easier.”
Nick didn’t answer that.
As Sawyer reached for the door, Nick added, “And Sawyer?”
He paused, glancing back.
“Be careful.” Nick’s gaze held his. “If you’re right about him, this won’t be simple.”
Sawyer nodded once. “Yeah. I know.”