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I watch it intently, making sure it moves only toward the river and nowhere else. With very little brush to light on fire, it never gets any taller than a few inches, but that’s all I need to prove my point.
As the fire burns, I think about how evil my dad must have been to stand here all those years ago and inflict that kind of damage on purpose. What kind of human being would be so evil to want to cause that kind of harm?
“Funny how it’s all about to backfire on you,” I say to myself as I watch the last of it burn out.
I take my phone from my back pocket and take pictures as my proof, making sure to include the ranch in the background so there’s no question where these photos are taken.
Once I have my shots, I send Natalie another text.
Keep your faith. I’m working to get him out.
I stare at my phone, hoping she responds, but after a minute of standing there, willing it to show me those three little bubbles on her side, I give up and walk around the land I burned, making sure the fire is all out. Then, I walk back to my place to hop in the truck and head straight to the sheriff’s office.
I fly through the city, not paying attention to anything but the mission I’m on. I’ve never been so sure about anything I’ve done in my life, and pure determination is the only thing leading my way.
Parking my truck in front of Sheriff Townsend’s office, I hop out, slamming my door shut. I walk in, adrenaline racing through my veins. If I thought scoring touchdowns was the biggest high, I was completely wrong. Justice tops that in spades.
The old building the sheriff is located in is one of the original buildings in this town, and it has more history than any other place. Mainly because it’s the one place my father hasn’t bought to completely renovate and make new, erasing everything that was Leighton River at one point.
I catch the receptionist, who’s sitting behind a tall desk, off guard, and I’m sure my expression doesn’t help as she questions, “Dalton? How can I help you?”
“I’d like to turn myself in. I was trespassing on the Spencer ranch. Everything my father said to Sheriff Townsend was a lie, and I can prove it. I’m the one who should be in jail, not Mr. Spencer.”
Her eyes open wide as she stands and stutters, “Let—let me get the sheriff.”
Seconds later, Sheriff Townsend comes out. “Dalton? What’s going on?”
“My dad lied, and I’m here to turn myself in. I was lighting the Spencer ranch on fire. Just like my dad did all those years ago. I was just trying to finish what he’d started. Mr. Spencer saw me doing it and pointed the gun at me to get off his property.” I pull out my phone, swipe it on, and hold it out to him. “I have the pictures to prove it, and you can go check for yourself at the back of the ranch, where our property lines meet. He stopped me from getting very far, but you can see here what I lit on fire.”
He steps closer to me. “Son, do you realize what you’re doing right now? Does your father know you’re here?”
I stand up straight. “I’m eighteen years old. I’m an adult. I don’t need him here.”
“What about counsel? You shouldn’t be putting yourself in this situation without proper representation,” he states clearly.
“Please call Mr. Diaz. I’ve already hired him.”
“Does he know you’re here? Without him?”
I shake my head. “No. I’ll sit right here and wait for you to arrest me. If you want to call him first, that’s fine with me.”
I turn and sit in one of the chairs they have waiting along the wall.
Time goes by as I sit up straight, my fingers steepled in front of me on my lap with my gaze locked forward, not wavering one bit.
Expecting Mr. Diaz, I’m not surprised when thedoor opens, and someone storms in, but I am surprised when I see it’s my dad.
“Dalton!” he chastises.
I don’t respond.
“What the fuck is going on?” he yells.
Sheriff Townsend exits his office. “Mike, I’m glad you came.”
Thankfully, Mr. Diaz walks in right behind him, so I stand to greet him.
“Thank you for being here.”
