Chapter 10 Lennon
TEN
LENNON
The office is quiet when I get there, just the hum of the heat kicking on and the soft buzz of the computers.
In the background, there’s something coming through the fax machine.
It’s typically a bunch of spam bullshit, so I don’t rush to get it.
Instead, I settle into my desk, booting up my computer and pulling out the files Shawn and I have been compiling on the Reagan case.
We need more. A hell of a lot more if we’re going to get Claire Reagan full custody of her son, Tommy.
Since most of the town has either been or is on his payroll, we’re going to need a lot.
Starting with physical evidence, witnesses, and something concrete that can’t be disputed or dismissed.
Mrs. Reagan’s testimony and the medical records she’s provided are damning, but in a town where Sheriff Reagan wields this much power, we need to build a case so airtight that no one can ignore it.
I start with social media, creating a fake account so I can dig without being tracked.
It’s not the first time I’ve done it, and it’s fun every time I do it, but I’m always worried because I never know what I’m going to find out.
It doesn’t take long to find what I’m looking for.
The county jail’s Facebook page is public, and while the official posts are all sanitized, the comments are a completely different story.
My brother was in there for a DUI and came out with broken ribs. Said he fell, but I don’t believe it.
Reagan runs that jail like his personal kingdom. If you cross him, you pay for it.
Three days in holding and they never let me make my phone call. When I complained, one of the deputies told me to shut up unless I wanted to extend my stay.
I screenshot everything, because that’s the first thing I learned when I started doing this.
As quickly as you find it, you can lose it too.
Pulling over a notebook, I start writing down dates to cross-reference and start to build a timeline about complaints.
Some are vague and easy to dismiss. But others are specific enough to warrant a follow-up, which I will be doing as soon as possible.
My phone buzzes with an incoming call. Glancing over, I see Shawn’s name. Putting him on speaker, I answer. “Yeah? Where are you?”
“Got called into court, and I’ll probably be here all day. Just checking to make sure everything is going okay at the office.”
It would’ve been nice to know before I got so involved in this. Now I feel a little weird, worried that someone may come in and I might not hear. “It is, but I wish you would’ve let me know.”
He sighs. “It was very unexpected. Are you searching for info for us?”
“Yeah, and I think I have a few things. I’ll tell ya when I see you.”
He makes a noise. “I gotta get back in court. Be safe.”
“You too.” And with that, I end the call and get back to work.
By the time lunch rolls around, I have a list of names—people who’ve either been incarcerated at the county jail or had family members there. People who might be willing to talk if approached carefully and discreetly.
I’m so focused on my work that I don’t hear Atlee until she’s standing right beside my desk, a bag from the local deli in her hand.
“Son of a bitch!” I jump, hand flying to my chest. “You scared me.”
“Sorry.” She doesn’t look sorry at all as she sets the bag down and starts unpacking sandwiches. “You were in the zone. I called your name three times.”
“I’m working on something,” I say, minimizing my browser window out of habit.
“I figured.” She slides a turkey club across the desk toward me. “Which is why I brought lunch. You need to eat, especially after what you were talking to us about at dinner.”
“This smells really good,” I tell her as I open the wax paper and grab the sandwich. “How is wedding planning going? Are you and Aubree okay with us meeting this weekend for the dinner I missed? I’m so sorry about that,” I apologize again.
She clears her throat. “You don’t have to apologize.
If any of us had known what the fuck was happening with you, we would’ve been out there at the same time.
” She swallows the bite she’s taken, using her knuckle to push a piece of lettuce into her mouth that’s slipped loose.
“Devlin says we should elope, and I think he might be right. Neither one of us has a ton of family, and if we could just get married behind the house, I think I’d like that. ”
My throat aches, and my eyes sting. “I wish I could give you the biggest wedding in the world, sis.”
“I know, but I’m here to tell you I don’t need it.”
We go back to eating our food, but I can tell she’s working up to something. That particular set to her jaw means she’s got something on her mind.
“Spit it out,” I finally say, taking another bite of my sandwich.
“What?” She tries for innocent and fails horribly.
“You’ve got that look. The one you get when you want to say something, but you’re not sure how I’ll react.”
She sighs, setting down her sandwich. “Fine. I want to talk about Carson.”
“What about him?” I keep my voice carefully neutral.
“I saw how he looked at you last night.” Her eyes are soft, understanding. “And how you looked at him. There’s something there, Len. You’re staying at the big house. You think I don’t see you coming and going?”
“It’s complicated,” I sigh heavily, the anxiety in my stomach settling in like a rock.
“It doesn’t have to be.” She reaches across the desk, covering my hand with hers. “I know you’re scared. After everything with Dad, and then when you had to take care of me…I get why trusting someone is hard for you.”
The mention of our dad makes me flinch. I haven’t thought about him in years. I haven’t let myself remember the way he’d twisted my emotions and used my vulnerabilities against me. Even though he was my parent, he taught me that love was a weapon, and I’d learned to keep my guard up ever since.
“Carson is different,” Atlee continues, her voice gentle but firm. “I’ve known him for a while now because of Devlin. He’s genuine, Len. What you see is what you get. And he looks at you like you hung the moon.”
“We barely know each other,” I protest weakly.
“Sometimes that’s all it takes.” She squeezes my hand. “I’m not saying you have to marry the guy tomorrow. But if you give him a shot, I think he’ll surprise you. In the best possible way.”
I think about last night, about the vulnerability Carson showed me. The way he’d trusted me enough to sleep in his own bed, to share his fears and let me help him through them. The way I’d felt, waking up in his arms this morning, safer than I’ve felt in years.
“I hope so,” I admit quietly.
Atlee’s smile is radiant. “That’s all I’m asking. Just…don’t shut him out because you’re scared. Give yourself permission to see where this goes.”
We finish lunch, and by the time she leaves, I’m feeling like she’s called my bluff. Like there might be a possibility with Carson, if I’m just open to it.
“Love you,” she says as she hugs me.
“Love you too.”
After she leaves, I get back to work, going over my list and looking up more stuff on social media. Before I know it, the afternoon has slipped away. My phone buzzes with a text from Carson.
Carson
Heading your way. Be there in 10.
My heart does a stupid little flip at the message, and I find myself checking my reflection in the compact mirror I keep in my drawer, tucking my hair behind my ears. When did I become this person, I wonder? This woman who gets excited about a man picking her up from work?
But I know the answer. Somewhere between the flat tire on the side of the road and last night, I’ve started falling for Carson. And instead of terrifying me the way it should, it feels a lot like hope.