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“So, Mr. FBI profiler, you want to tell me why you’re suddenly so jittery with my questions?” Cubby asked the question into the sudden, uncomfortable silence. It took the attention from Ted and focused it squarely back on Dylan.
Dylan put down the cue he was holding, because suddenly he wanted to wrap it around the sheriff from Lake Howling’s neck.
“No, and it’s time I left.”
“Running never helped anyone.”
He’d turned away, but the sheriff’s words had him spinning back again. “What the hell’s your problem? Not enough crime for you in Lake Howling, that you have to come here and bug me?”
“It’s well meaning, bud. I know when someone’s conflicted, so if I can help, then I’d be happy to.”
“Well fuck,” Dylan said softly. “No.” He shook his head, trying to clear it.
Feeling shaken all over again, Dylan looked at the ceiling and away from the eyes that were now focused solely on him.
“If something’s up, Dylan, we’re your guys, so spill.”
Joe said the words, and for him it was that easy. Dylan was now one of his people, and the thought was a humbling one.
“Someone in Charlie’s work has infiltrated her emails and bank accounts and set it up to look like she was stealing money. She lost her job because of it, but as yet has not been charged as the money was recovered. I called a colleague of mine who is good with this kind of thing and he looked into it. He called me earlier.”
“I’m guessing it wasn’t a social call?” Cubby said.
“He said the attack on Charlie had some similarities to a case I worked on. Whoever did this messed up once with rerouting through a VPN and it was traced back to a diner in Queens. The same diner the man I helped put in prison sent emails from to the three women he murdered.”
“That’s got to rattle some chains?” Ted said.
Dylan nodded.
“Well now,” Cubby said. “Okay, you want to run through what’s happened? I’ll listen and give my sage advice.”
“I don’t see any good would come from that,” Dylan protested.
“You kidding me?” Fin shook his head. “The man can’t function unless he’s wearing his sheriff’s cape.”
“No, this is not happening.” Dylan shook his head too. “This is ridiculous. Like I told Mickey, it’s got to be a coincidence. Why would someone want to hurt my family?”
“Not sure they would,” Luke said. “But it’s a hell of a coincidence now you add that shit with Charlie.”
“Seems a hell of a stretch,” Ted said. “But then I’ve seen bigger ones that turned out to be true. Got a whiteboard over there if you want to use it.”
“We’re playing pool,” Dylan said, looking at the whiteboard. “I’m not ruining the evening with this, and if there’s a problem, which I don’t know that there is, I can look into it myself, thanks.”
“If you’re worried it’s one of us then I have to tell you, don’t. None of us are that smart, and would someone tell me what the hell a VPN is?” Jack said, making everyone but Dylan laugh.
“We’re pretty well done with pool, seeing as I was losing,” Joe said, ignoring his brother. “But have to say Cubby has me worried for you Howards. Could be nothing but a coincidence for sure, but then maybe not, especially considering what your colleague says.”
Dylan felt a hand on his back. He wasn’t sure who it belonged to, but it was nudging him toward the whiteboard. Cubby picked up the marker.
“No, I can figure this out myself.” He tried to put a halt to the insanity.
“It’s how this thing called friendship works. We work through stuff.”
“I don’t even know you.”
“But you know us, and we’re friends, so he is by extension. And I can tell you right off, he is not smart enough to do this to Charlie,” Fin said.
“I object,” the sheriff said, taking the cap of the marker. “Okay, so I’m in charge of the whiteboard.”
