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“Wake Westfield!” she cried. “Why are you out so late, and why is my boy with you?”
I gestured for Pedro to go inside, then said, “Mrs. Cree, will you join us outside for a moment?”
She instantly slammed the door, her arms going over her chest in a defensive position.
I stepped back and allowed Dutch to take over, knowing it would take someone with a gentler touch than my brash bluntness.
When Dutch was done, I saw the rigidness of Mrs. Cree’s shoulders slacken. Then she was crying silent tears.
“I knew it was big, but I didn’t know that it was someone at school, a teacher no less, that was making this so bad for him,” she said with a wobbly voice. “I don’t… I don’t know what to do.”
That’s where I stepped in, telling her she needed to contact the school and have them issue him the online classroom information for him to attend at home for a few weeks.
“We’ll take care of it from here,” I said quietly.
Her eyes studied me long and hard, then she smiled. “I should’ve known that you wouldn’t let this pass.”
“Never,” I hissed. “Never again.”
Because not a single person should have to go through what Lolo went through.
Two days later
“You’re kidding me.”
I looked at the evidence myself and still couldn’t believe my eyes.
“Not kidding,” the private investigator I hired by the name of Hank, a biker that’d just moved to Florida to take over for his ailing brother in their MC, said. “From what I can tell, Graydon’s been a fucked-up person since way before you went to prison for taking care of all those pedophiles. He was pissed because you ‘did the job for him.’ Those were the exact words on his laptop. He was also upset that you were taking out pedophiles, and smug that you’d missed the biggest perv of them all.” He looked at me then instead of the paperwork he was reading off of. “That last comment, the biggest perv of them all, was said by his sister.”
“Any information on her?” I questioned.
Hank shook his head. “Nada. She’s much smarter about hiding her tracks. She’s practically a ghost. But everyone slips up. I only need more time.”
I nodded my head. “I’d like you to anonymously tip off someone in the FBI with this knowledge. Show it to them, see if they run with it. If they don’t, we do things my way again.”
Hank’s cheeks creased with the quick flash of his grin. “I think we should skip the FBI part and just go with your way. Less evidence that way.”
“Actually,” I said, “I’ve had enough interactions with him at this point that I’m the first one they’ll look to. My wife’ll be the second since she’s made no attempt to hide her contempt for the ol’ sheriff, either.”
His smile grew. “I got just the person. But he ain’t FBI. Well, not for much longer, anyway. He has plans to leave soon. He has the connections. Expect someone at your door no later than tonight.”
Then he was gone.
Eight hours later
“I’d like a triple chocolate cake slice”—Dutch flicked her gaze at me to see my reaction—“for an appetizer. Then I’d like the bacon burger with fire fries. A chocolate shake as a drink, with a glass of water, and honey salsa to dip in.”
I coughed as Lolo started to laugh.
“When my mom is on her period, she eats pancakes and french fries. Yours sounds way more bad for you.”
Bowie. Again.
Aodhan, who’d been taking a swig of his beer, nearly choked.
“Bowie!” Danyetta screeched. “That’s none of your business! She could or she couldn’t be. But still, none of your business!”
Bowie held up his hands. “Obviously, you’re about to be…”
That’s when Aodhan placed his hand over Bowie’s mouth as if to stop him from finishing his sentence.
I brought my menu up to cover my face, and that’s when I heard Dutch.
She laughed. Hard.
“Oh, Bowie. Such a breath of fresh air, you are.” She wheezed.
“I don’t understand my son.” Danyetta glared at Aodhan. “You’re probably responsible for this.”
Aodhan didn’t agree or disagree. Instead, he just gave a shrug, then changed the subject.
Just when we were getting to the good stuff, as in, what was going on with Aodhan and my sister, silence descended over the table, and the entire restaurant.
I knew why when I looked up to find a man walking toward me.
A tall, black man with a pinstripe suit and eyes laser focused directly on me.
He stopped at the table and held out his hand. “Wake Westfield?”
I stood up and took it. “Yeah, you the FBI guy?”
He nodded. “I am. Can we talk and walk?”
CHAPTER 26
I know your lane sucks, but stay in it.
-Dutch to Sheriff Graydon
DUTCH
I knew that he was talking to Wake, but when he got up, I did, too. Following behind them so closely that I was practically on top of Wake.
