by Eden Butler
Looking around, I stretched my neck, not real eager for the crew walking behind him to hear our conversation. “It was overturned. Been home about two weeks now.” I shot a glance around to the men behind him, wondering if he’d branched out away from his brother when I didn’t spot Maddox among the others. “You go out on your own?”
Keene looked over his shoulder, the smile he wore dropping when he turned back to face me. “Oh. Yeah, um Maddox passed, just after you went away, in fact.”
“What?”
Keene’s features flexed, his jaw tightening. “Playing the damn hero, according to the cops. Found him in an alley off Second Avenue stabbed to death. Jogger running by said she saw a tussle between him and two guys trying to break into Lambert’s Liquor store.”
“Shit…” I gripped Keene’s shoulder, my stomach dropping. “His woman and their kids?” Maddox had talked of little else but his family. They’d been the reason he worked so hard.
“Annie took their kids back to Nebraska where she’s from. She sends me pictures and videos and they come back here every summer so the kids can visit with my folks. They’re okay. Turns out that thick-headed big brother of mine planned ahead. Life insurance policy. It’s been…tough. But they’re okay.”
I looked back to his crew, to the name on the van they’d spilled out of and had to fight a stupid grin. The logo on the side read Maddox Millworks. “That you?”
“Yeah. It’s small, but I do alright.” Keene rubbed his neck, his shoulders straighter when he spotted how his boys had already finished unpacking their tools and the framing work had begun. “Got a good crew. They work hard.”
“Man, I’m glad to hear it.” I curled my arms, trying to push back the small brush of regret I felt thinking of Maddox. The world could do with a few more of men like him. “Your brother was a good man. He’d be proud.”
Keene’s mouth twisted to one side and he lowered his head, like he didn’t want me to see whatever had slipped across his eyes before he glanced at my company truck, to the Mescal-Warren Construction logo on the side. Then, Keene stepped closer, standing at my side like he wanted to make sure no one overheard us.
“Listen…I heard a few things…after you went in. It was all bullshit…how it all went down.” He scratched his jaw, looking nervous before he continued. “Maddox told me things didn’t add up and I never knew what he meant until I started shadowing my old boss. Kip Matthews. He’s the one who I bought the company from. Anyway, I started hearing a few things about how Sam Travis runs that B&B and who he hires.”
Just the mention of Travis’s name got my attention, and I leaned on one shoulder against the door of the truck, facing Keene. “What do you mean?”
“It never set well with Maddox, how you always got accused of messing up the jobs on that rebuild. Truth was, we were under you and did a lot of that work so if you got called out for half-assing it, then that was on us, too. So after you went into Stillwater, Maddox confronted Travis about those jobs, and Travis fired us on the spot.” Keene shook his head, spitting once on the ground. “Since Alex and his sister weren’t on the best of terms after all that shit went down, Travis had no problem telling him he didn’t want us working on the crew. Claimed he didn’t want anyone loyal to you around Miss Warren. But Alex wasn’t a dick about it. He put us on other jobs, and, small town that Midland is, you start to hear things.”
I could only imagine the shit-talk that started the second I got stuffed into that cruiser. “What sort of things?”
“Like the fact that after you went to prison and Alex was hardly around to do any of the maintenance, Travis hires Red back. Remember him? That asshole you fired your first day on the job?”
“I do.” That lazy jackass had tested me the second I walked on site. He’d been the biggest bully on the job who seemed to do the least amount of work. Until I challenged him about it. Then, he got in my face and I had to shut him down.
“Yeah, well, I’m guessing Miss Warren never paid much attention, but a lot of other folks did. In this business you hear things. Red and a few of those landscapers Travis still has working there can’t get insured. Turns out Red was running a hustle for developers who couldn’t sell their properties. They’d slap together houses in three weeks or so, using cheap materials but then try to sell them for top dollar. They have good locations, but people aren’t stupid. They don’t buy them. So Red would go in and wreck shit, make it look a little too accidental and the developers would hit those insurance claims.”
It was an old con, one I’d seen done a thousand times. You had to be good at it, had to have inspectors and county insiders to make it work well, but that had zero to do with me and my work. “What’s that got to do with the botched jobs at the B&B?”
“Man, you didn’t know?” Keene rounded his eyes, moving his head back like he couldn’t believe how simple I was being.
“What?”
He pulled off his Chargers ballcap, scratching the back of his head that seemed like more nervous habit than sweaty scalp. “There’s a reason Red ran around Midland raising hell and never getting into much trouble. Sheriff Dexter is his uncle.”
Dropping my mouth open, I pushed off the truck, twisting my head to the side to look down at Keene. “But that means he and Sam are…”
“Umhmm. Cousins.”
How the hell had I never realized that? Did Piper know? Red and Travis couldn’t be more different if they tried. Red was blue collar and loud. Travis was prissy, a wannabe pretty boy who lacked the looks or charm to pull it off. “Travis never said a thing when I fired Red.”
Pushing his cap back on his head, Keene leaned back against my truck, tucking his arms in a fold. “Maddox always said Travis was a coward.”
“Still is, but I’m guessing now he thinks I’ll spook because I’ve been on the inside once already. Shit doesn’t work like that.”
Keene bit the inside of his cheek, but didn’t speak for a few seconds, seeming to consider a few things. “Just watch yourself. That’s all I’m saying. Red didn’t work alone. Few months back we trimmed out Miss Warren’s new cottages and I noticed a few of the guys claiming to be landscapers are the same assholes Red used to run around with before we all got on Alex’s crew for the B&B remodel. I’m just connecting dots here…”
“No, I feel you.” It was a lot to process, but things were starting to make more sense to me. Travis had all the opportunity to mess up the work we’d done on the B&B remodel, but not the skill. I’d assumed he’d had someone else do it, but I wouldn’t have considered Red. Keene took my hand when I offered it to him. “Thanks, man. I appreciate the warning.”
His grip was firm. His stare, steady. “My brother liked you. Said you didn’t seem like the type to do your lady the way everyone said you did, and I always believed every word my big brother said.” Keene was a loyal kid brother. From the sound of it, he always would be.
“That means a lot.” Nothing out of my mouth had been truer. I only wished Maddox was there to hear it.
West Lake was a sleepy town ten miles from Midland, far enough away from the ears and eyes of anyone who knew me that I was fine walking through the shittiest looking bar in that tiny town to find Slim. His text had come fifteen minutes after Keene took off to help his crew knock out the houses in Alex’s development and included just seven words: Lil’ Bets in West Lake. One hour.
Slim looked rested, a little dressed up for a dive bar in a sports jacket and jeans, and seemed to be halfway into a pitcher of draft when I found him in a booth at the back of the bar crowded with day drinkers punching on video gambling machines. But, the man hadn’t started on that pitcher by himself.
There was a pretty boy Aussie with him.
“The hell?” I stared down at the pair of them, all laid back, grinning at each other like they were old damn friends and not two bastards deep in my business.
“Mate…” Chance started motioning to the spot next to him.
“Had no idea the BMW was your boy, Ed.” Slim poured
a glass of draft for me, pushing it over before I had a chance to turn him down.
“Getting all chummy?” I ignored the beer, my stare shooting between the two of them.
“Calm yourself.” Chance pulled out a card from his pocket, laying it in front of me on the damp table. “Turns out your mate here is connected. That much I learned on my own. I told you I’d follow that wanker Travis, but he seemed a bit too keen to ask after me and Aubrey, so I knew sorting out what he’s up to wouldn’t be easy. So,” he shrugged, motioning to Slim, “I decided to tail your man here and told him how I knew you.”
“I’d complain about being kept out of the loop but…well…” Slim pointed to the card Chance had set before me and I picked it up, my stomach sinking when I spotted the Clement County Special Investigations Unit logo across the top.
“Who the hell is Fisher Farlow?”
“You’re looking at him,” Slim said, eyes unblinking as he watched me.
I shot a look at the man, to the soda in his glass, not beer like I’d assumed and the bulge at his hip, covered by the jacket he wore. Shit. A cop? Slim?
To my right, Chance went still, his grip on the glass in his hand curling like he expected me to grab it and fling it across the table. But I wasn’t thinking about causing a scene or how pissed off I should be that my only friend in Midland turned out to be a liar.
“Ed…mate…”
“What do you want?” I said, staring at Slim.
He licked his lips, sitting forward on the table, like he had an explanation ready and it was about to spill, but I stopped him, holding up a hand before I looked at Chance.
“When the hell did you find out who he was?”
“About two hours ago.” He held up his palm, his expression even. “Hand to Christ, I had no idea until today.”
“And you couldn’t give me a heads-up?”
“There wasn’t time,” Slim said, before Chance could answer. “Look man, get pissed, I understand, but there’s a long game at play here and you’re a big part of it.”
“Even if I don’t want to be?”
“Oh, you’ll wanna be.” Slim motioned to the beer. “You’re gonna need it. Don’t tell me you didn’t think about it that day I showed you the duffle filled with coke we found in the cottage.”
My throat felt tight, like a dry pocket was forming when I thought of telling Piper what was happening at her business and who was likely responsible. Worse yet, for waiting so damn long to tell her. The deliveries that always went to Sam, had been coming for years. From what I’d seen of late, those hadn’t slowed down.
“She still doesn’t know. You turned it in?” I said, tilting my head at Slim when he nodded.
“Had to,” he admitted. “Like I said, we’re playing the long game.” He nodded to the pitcher on the table, moving his eyebrows up when I shook my head.
“I don’t drink much and never during the day. You knew me, you’d know that,” I said, pushing the glass away. “Before you tell me what you want from me, I wanna know how this shit happened.” I nodded at Chance, then to Slim, not caring who answered me.
“He saw us talking at the truck the other day,” Slim said. “Tried tailing me. I’d be a shitty cop if I hadn’t noticed him.” He laughed, head shaking at Chance. “You’re not as slick as you think you are.”
“Whatever, mate.”
Slim shook his head. “When Chance got in my business, wanting to know what I was doing for you, getting a little too nosy…I hit pause on my cover and started interrogating him.”
“Felt like I was back in Stillwater,” Chance said, taking a long drink.
“You should feel good, Mescal. He didn’t give up anything about your connection. He’s loyal, I’ll give him that much.”
“Then how’d you find out?”
Slim shrugged. “The same way I’m guessing Sam Travis found out—background check.”
“Travis knows?” I asked, shooting a look at Chance.
“With that uncle of his? Hell, it wouldn’t take more than a phone call. It’s gonna come out soon and I’m betting Travis will be quick to get that info to your girl.”
Rubbing my face, I tugged off my Stetson, letting it rest on the table. “What the hell is really going on? Why are you here?”
Slim’s shoulders went tight, the muscles around his mouth tensing. “Well, it’s not for the little side business Travis has going out of your girl’s B&B, but now that my boys in the DEA are clued in, that’ll be added to the case I’m working. Which has everything to do with Finnley Michaels.”
A small ache started up at the back of my skull when he mentioned her name and I rested against the booth, feeling sick. Something in Slim’s eyes told me I wasn’t going to like the shit he had to say.
“She’s dead because of me?”
“No, mate,” Chance tried, but Slim’s expression didn’t change.
“She’s dead because the sheriff in Midland thinks he’s above the law and so do his deputies.”
“But she came to Midland because…”
“She came because your sister was doing what good sisters do. Finnley knew something about that. So did her brother.”
“Who is he?”
“Reese. No one you would know. Just a law clerk. His boss, though, him you’d know. Senator McKlin.” The name was familiar. He was the guy all the Aryans in prison would flip the bird at anytime he was on TV. “Anytime Finnley got hold of a good story, she made meticulous notes and backed them up. She did that with your case. From what we can figure things didn’t go so well when she got to Midland and started asking about the robbery.”
“She got nowhere?” I asked, shaking my leg when I thought of this woman I didn’t know, coming to Midland with no clue what she was walking into.
“She got dead real soon after that.” Slim let out a deep exhale, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “She didn’t turn up when she was supposed to and Reese got worried. Checked her apartment, then the external memory drive she kept in a safety deposit box they shared. There was a lot of circumstantial evidence there about Dexter’s department. City Council notes where Dexter bragged about Midland having the lowest property loss rates in the state. Lots of complaints from folks getting stopped for bullshit reasons. Some saying they’d be pulled over for seatbelt violations and hand over their licenses. The cops jot down their addresses and the next day or so, bust in with a bullshit warrants just to make off with property they claim is stolen or is evidence for cases that went nowhere.”
Slim motioned for another soda, taking his time to drink before he continued. “Then there were others, people with clean records who got busted for slinging dope they swore wasn’t theirs, baggies they’d never seen, dozens of those cases and then, of course, one small case of a botched robbery of a B&B. Some guy ganking his girlfriend’s bank deposit.”
I toyed with the idea of bending my no day drinking rule, then decided I need a level head to deal with the bullshit Slim had to say before he got on with it. “But Ms. Michaels had also discovered in that same case a witness’s testimony that got buried. The sheriff never presented it to the D.A. Fact was, the witness placed Red Travis at the B&B after you left it. One of the landscaper’s girlfriends. She remembered it specifically because Red bragged about getting back at you for firing him your first day on the job. She made that statement a full week before Dexter turned over his evidence to the D.A. That’s suppression. Which is illegal and it got your conviction overturned. You can’t do that shit. Not even if you run your department like your own personal kingdom.”
“You got me out?”
“Me personally? No.” Slim pulled out another card, pushing it across the table, tapping it once. “McKlin likes his clerk and when Finnley’s body was discovered, the good senator made it his mission to find out what happened to her and why. Reese handed over all the evidence Finnley had gathered and McKlin got it to District Attorney Harper. She’s a beast. Probably will be governor one day, hell maybe president, but ri
ght now, she’s itching to bury Dexter and all his little peons.”
“She got the ball rolling by releasing me?” Slim shrugged and my stomach dropped. Had I jumped from one prison into another one? How damn long would this sentence be? “What does the D.A. want from me?”
Slim’s smile was quick and it only widened as he glanced from me to Chance. When the Aussie cleared his throat, I figured there was a plan and from the look my friend gave me, it was going to be bad.
“Shit…” I started, the bounce in my leg working double time.
“Easy, mate. Easy.” Chance motioned for the waitress, waiting until she’d brought over a refilled pitcher before he continued. “You might not like this…”
“You think?” The ache in my head had worked into a full throbbing pound now. “I don’t like any of this shit. Not being put where I was. Not having my people’s name dragged through the fucking mud and damn sure not innocent people dying because they were trying to get at the truth.”
“Then you want to bury them, too?” Slim said, his mouth twisting into a smile.
“You know what, asshole? Don’t fucking smile. If you’d have come at me like a man, telling me the truth, I could have started this shit from the beginning.”
“It’s only been two weeks,” he said.
“No. It’s been five years and two weeks,” I told them both, tugging on my ear to keep from punching the table. I grabbed my hat, ready to jet, but Slim held up his hands silently asking me to hear him out.
“There’s a protocol, and I had to follow it. It’s shitty, I know but we had no clue what you’d be like when you got out. We had to watch and wait.”
“What I’d be like?” My knuckles ached when I curled them onto the table ready to hit something—Slim, Chance, the fucking pitcher. This asshole had made assumptions. They all had. They’d locked me up without real proof. Without cause. They let that racist asshole shave my head, steal my medicine. Stuff me in a hole. Tell me I was nothing. Treat me like I was nothing. Fester. Wallow. Let the anger and hopelessness fill me up. Make me mourn who I was. Mourn what I’d left behind. Watch my family fracture. And then wonder who I’d be when I got out?
