Chapter 13 My Responsibility
MY RESPONSIBILITY
Right jab, left jab, right, right, left, left. Right upper cut!
Sweat was trickling down his back, his arms were growing heavy, but his brain was in overdrive.
“What did that bag do to you?”
The black bag in front of him represented every scenario in his mind.
It was this asshole Oliver Frontage.
It was the helplessness he felt in trying to save Reenie.
Her making that reckless call last night.
His reawakened feelings when she walked into his life over a week ago.
“Nothing,” Ford said to his deputy. He was in the gym before his shift getting his workout in.
It was where he usually did it. Once he got home for the night, he needed to relax as much as he could.
He hadn’t been home much in the past week. He thought he’d sleep better than on the spare bed in Clay’s house, but he hadn’t.
What he learned from Reenie agitated him too much.
None of this made sense.
Something was off and not adding up and he hated to think she was keeping pieces of the puzzle from him.
“You done with it now?”
“Sure,” he said, picking up his towel and wiping his face. It was barely six and he’d been here for thirty minutes beating his frustration out.
He walked over to the side and grabbed a jump rope. He’d rather do that than run on a treadmill though he still did that too.
Ford wasn’t on patrol like he used to be. Not always chasing criminals down on foot or needing to in his position.
He didn’t care. He was young for his position and he was going to make sure that he was in as good of shape as those below him, if not better.
Lead by example was how he was raised and it’s what he was passing on to those serving under him.
He had to make sure everything he did kept him in those standings.
And that meant doing it all by the rules.
After ten minutes of jumping rope, he went to the treadmill and set it for twenty, then he’d call it a day and hit the shower.
He had five minutes left when Clay’s text came up to call when he had a minute.
He shut the treadmill off and walked to the locker room, hitting the button for his brother on the way.
“What’s going on?”
“I got an email from my guy. He wants me to call him tonight.”
Clay had contacts all over the US from his days in the Navy. His brother was discreetly looking into Oliver Frontage.
He would rather hear from Clay or his contacts that maybe Reenie overreacted.
Did he trust her?
He wanted to. He wasn’t sure if he could though and that was a bitter pill to swallow on a sore and inflamed throat for the girl that he’d loved twenty years ago.
He’d never felt for another woman the way he had for her.
He always thought it was puppy love.
A simple crush.
But those things didn’t hurt as much as if your heart was ripped out of your chest and then stomped on the ground by a stampede of elephants.
“What time?” he asked.
“Seven,” Clay said. “I’m assuming you’re going to be here for it?”
“I’d be nowhere else. He didn’t give you any sign of what he found?”
“No,” Clay said. “But if it wasn’t anything important he’d put it in an email or text. He wants to talk.”
“Shit. Where is Reenie now? At the cafe?”
“Yes. She drove down this morning after I scared the crap out of her for walking.”
“I don’t need her to be any more jumpy than she is.”
“And see,” Clay said, “I don’t think she’s that jumpy. Or not as much as she could be.”
“She’s staying busy. And she’s strong. Stronger than most would be.”
“I guess.”
“Don’t be a dick,” he said.
“I’m not,” Clay said. “I don’t know her like you do. You don’t know her either.”
“I know enough,” he said.
“It’s your life.”
“That’s right.” He turned when someone came into the locker room. “I’ve got to run.”
“Talk to you later.”
Ford put his phone in his locker, nodded to another deputy coming in off his shift. It’d get busy soon enough in here, so he grabbed a towel and went to the showers.
An hour later, he was walking into one of the many cafes he frequented, grabbed a coffee and a donut, said hi to the owners and others.
“I heard Clay is getting ready to open that barn up soon,” Zeke Roberts said. He owned a shop downtown. Anything that brought more tourism to the area was good for everyone.
“In a few weeks,” he said. “Got a couple of weddings scheduled too.”
They’d all be helping to see how it worked.
Clay had no clue what the hell he was doing running a wedding venue, but Gale thought it’d be great and she got recruited to put her touch on it with his mother.
Maybe Reenie wouldn’t mind helping too.
Like he told Clay, the busier she was, the steadier she’d be.
Or maybe that was his mentality.
At the end of the day, he showed up at Clay’s for the call. He wouldn’t let his brother just relay the information.
“You just want to go see Reenie when you’re done,” Clay said.
“I do. I told her I’d be stopping over a little after seven. She went to the store today. I want to see how she felt doing that.”
“I know where she went and when she returned. I can see it on my phone.”
“Can you put that security system on my phone?” he asked.
“Do you really want your phone going off with my security system? You’ve got a job to do and don’t need to be distracted with that. Or don’t you trust me?”
He wanted to wipe the smirk off of Clay’s face. “It’s not a matter of trust. She’s my responsibility.”
“That’s your problem,” Clay said. “And why you won’t get anywhere with her either if you keep thinking along those lines.”
“Who says I’m trying to get anywhere?”
“Don’t be a dick, Ford. Everyone in the family can see it.”
He wondered if Reenie could. And if she thought that was the only reason he was helping her.
It wasn’t.
He sat on the couch while Clay brought his laptop out and made the call.
A minute later a guy popped up on the screen that looked a lot like his brother. The short hair, broad shoulders, grim expression, and crossed arms shouted military miles away.
Clay was almost mimicking the stance now.
“Hey, Grady. Thanks for looking into this for me,” Clay said.
Ford moved closer to be in the screen. “Thanks,” he said. “I’m sure Clay told you it was for me.”
“He told me bits and pieces. Enough of what I needed to know,” Grady said.
Which meant that you only shared so much so the rest didn’t bite you in the ass if you didn’t have the knowledge. He knew how that worked.
“What did you find out?” he asked.
His brother turned to sneer at him as if he shouldn’t ask the damn question.
“Randy Frontage is a low level drug dealer. Does some smuggling when asked, but mainly deals in and out of businesses.”
“What does that have to do with Oliver?”
“Oliver has been known to hold the product when asked so that Randy isn’t caught with it.”
Fuck!
“I told you about the break-in at Oliver’s. Are they related?”
“Word on the street is that there are over a thousand ecstasy pills missing. Randy is panicking. He had them at Oliver’s house and someone broke in looking for them.”
“That explains why they couldn’t call the police about the break-in. Someone might have found them,” he said.
Clay nodded. “So they think someone stole their stash and now they need the money?”
“It’s not just that,” Grady said. “There are a few rumors. One I heard you might not like.”
“It has to do with Reenie, doesn’t it?” Ford asked.
Grady grimaced. “There is a rumor going around that Oliver knocked his girl around enough that she took the pills and sold them for money and ran.”
Clay turned to look at him. His tight lips and dark eyes said that Reenie was guilty.
There was no way she’d get involved in something like that.
He didn’t believe it.
“It’s just a rumor?” he asked.
“One of many. The other was there was cash in the house and not drugs, and that is missing. Randy wouldn’t want anyone to know he had his stash taken out from under him. He’s lying low now.”
“So he’s got nothing to push?” Clay asked.
“I didn’t get that far. I was trying to find out about Oliver and it led to Randy.”
“Keep looking or let me know if you find anything else out,” Clay said.
“Will do,” Grady said.
The call disconnected. “Make sure I get the bill for this.”
Clay laughed. “What bill?”
“Isn’t he some PI or something now?” he asked.
“No. He’s a buddy with contacts in the area. Think nothing of it. Sounds to me like you’ve got bigger things to worry about.”
“She’s not into drugs,” he said. “No way.”
“How did she fund this trip?”
“Clay. She’s driving a car that is fifteen years old and wouldn’t pass inspection in this state. You know that. She had maybe two bags of clothing, and a few hundred dollars cash on her and some Visa cards. That doesn’t scream anyone with a solid stash.”
“Could be she’s waiting to sell it when she needs more cash,” Clay said. “You’re looking at about twenty-five thousand in street value.”
“Not a ton,” he said. “Not in the scheme of things.”
“But it’d be a lot for someone who doesn’t have the cash to pay back what is missing.”
“I’m telling you, you’re wrong,” he said.
“I hope for your sake I am. And if I know you, you’re going there now to ask.”
“I have to. I have to know everything. If she kept this from me...”
“It won’t change how you feel,” Clay said. “And that’s where you’re struggling.”