Silence. “Now who’s making the bitch reference—”
“Focus, Dawson,” I said, pointing two fingers at my eyes.
“Alex—” he corrected with a smile.
“Whatever the hell your name is, just listen up. Touch me like that again and we’re going to have a problem. Got it?”
He looked like he wanted to say something smart then thought better of it, reining in the response before it could escape. Instead, he nodded in agreement, shocking the hell out of me. Apparently, I did a crap job of hiding that fact, which seemed to leave him satisfied.
His smug smile returned.
“I can’t wait until we have a public fight and I get to slap that look off your face,” I muttered under my breath.
“What? I can’t even smile at you?”
“That wasn’t a smile. It’s too glib to be a smile. But, yes, you can smile at me. Sparingly. And no googly eyes.”
“Do I look like I make googly eyes at anyone?”
It was a fair point. “No, but I do have a certain charm.…”
“Not enough, Danners,” he said, choking on a laugh. “Definitely not enough.”
His smile widened before he turned and strode off. He never looked back to see what state he’d left me in, but I had a feeling that Dawson rarely looked back. He was an “eye on the prize” kind of guy, singularly focused on the task at hand. He’d do whatever he had to in order to shut down the sex ring in town.
Even if that meant having to tolerate me and my rules.
TEN
After school, I did what I’d promised Gramps I’d do: I went to see my father. He sat down at the seat across the glass panel from me at Logan Hill Prison, looking as if he’d aged a year since I’d last seen him. His hair was grayer than I remembered, and his normal rosy pink undertone had gone sallow. I knew I was the cause of at least some of that stress. I didn’t want to think about what the others were.
“Hi, Dad.”
He looked at me for a moment before speaking. “I was wondering when you’d finally get around to coming down here.” His eyes narrowed further. “Judging by that hint of yellow on your cheek, you waited long enough for the bruises to fade.”
Dammit. Busted.
“I didn’t want you to get more worked up about it—”
“Worked up?” he shouted, before his gaze snapped to the guard on the far side of the room. He took a deep breath to calm himself, fully aware of the consequences if he didn’t. “I told you to lay low—to come to me before you did anything!”
“I didn’t have time—”
“You could have died, Kylene!”
“I know that, Dad. We’ve already gone over all this on the phone. There’s no point in rehashing it now.”
“There is a point—to make the reality of what nearly happened to you finally sink in!”
“Dad,” I said, taking a deep breath of my own. I’d never heard of a visitor being dragged from the prison before, but I didn’t want to find out that it was possible. “I’m buried in that reality. Every single time I look in the mirror or move the wrong way or visit Garrett in that hospital, it’s burned into my consciousness.”
“Then imagine what learning about this event has done to the people that love you, Ky. I’m stuck in here, unable to protect you. Do you have any idea how hard that is for me?” I didn’t bother to answer his rhetorical question. I had a pretty damn good idea what it had been like, because I knew how I would have handled it. In truth, I was amazed my dad hadn’t scaled the walls to try and escape.
“If I’d thought for one second that what happened that night was going to happen, I never would have gone.”
“You should have called the sheriff,” he said, though it looked like it pained him to even suggest it.
“Yeah…,” I said, exhaling hard. “I guess it’s time I fill you in on a few other things since you’re already mad.”
So I did. I told him that Sheriff Higgins had been paid off and that there was an underage prostitution ring in Jasperville and that somehow those two things were tied back to an unknown bad guy—someone that went by the name Advocatus Diaboli. And then I told him that the sheriff knew he’d been set up/framed/whatevered. Shock flashed in his eyes until his cop face fell into place as he mulled over my story, swirling it around to see if it felt right or not. He leaned forward, propping his elbows up on the table, wanting to get a better look at me. To read me like I was a suspect in interrogation. Even behind the thick glass panel, my father was intimidating.
“How do you know all this?”
I hesitated for a moment. “I may or may not have illegally listened in on an FBI interrogation.” His eyebrows shot up. “Long story short, turns out Luke Clark knew Higgins was indebted to the AD as well. Seems this asshole has his hooks in a lot of powerful people around Jasperville.”
My father’s expression darkened. “And beyond, apparently.…” He leaned back in his chair for a moment, stretching his arms behind his head. “Kylene, I want you to listen to me. I know you want to get me out of here, and nothing would make me happier than to be with you, but you cannot continue down this road. I forbid it. Proving who took those pictures of you was one thing, but this? This is something else entirely. If this Advocatus Diaboli has high-powered people willing to off teenage girls, then you don’t need to put yourself in his sights again, got it?”
I had no idea how to respond. I wanted to say, “Yes, Dad. I’ll stay away,” but my knee-jerk reaction when threatened was to do the opposite of what I should. Smart? No, not at all. But that didn’t make it any less true. The new school district psychologist had expressed concerns about how I was dealing—or not dealing, as the case seemed to be—with the attack homecoming night; I’d been nearly killed twice in the span of an hour. She said my frankness about the event was a coping mechanism, and that I hadn’t really begun to peel that away so I could deal with the emotional fallout. In fact, she thought it might be making me more reckless—a fair assessment. Maybe if I’d told her about the night terrors and insomnia I’d had since that night, she’d have gone a little easier on me.
I looked at my father sitting on the other side of the glass awaiting my response. There was only one thing I could say to him.
“I’ll agree to your terms, but only if you let Meg and I help you get your appeal. That doesn’t involve angering sketchy criminals. We just have to find a technicality to get you off on.”
His jaw flexed. “I’ll consider it.”
An uncomfortable silence grew between us until I decided to change the subject. I filled Dad in on how Garrett was doing, my return to school, and, eventually, the AJ conundrum. By the time I was done venting, he looked positively overloaded. I wondered if he wanted to go back to discussing criminals instead.
“Well I’ll be damned,” he muttered to himself.
“Dad. You’re in prison. You are damned.”
He laughed. “I guess I just never expected to discuss AJ in this manner again.”
I shrugged. “Neither did I.”
“How’s he taking it all?”
A sad smile overtook my expression. “Like AJ takes everything—in perfect stride. He doesn’t want to make a big thing out of it. But, Dad, I think about the things I said to him—how I treated him—”
“Ky, you can’t be responsible for the things you don’t know. That applies to AJ, too.”
“I guess.…”
“Listen, if he’s willing to forgive and forget, then let him. There’s no sense in making yourself crazy over it.” An awkward parental pause stretched out between us. “So … does this mean you’re getting back together?”
“Dad—”
“I just want to know.”
“No, Dad. We’re not getting back together.”
“Why not?”
“It’s complicated.”
He quirked an expectant brow at me. I hadn’t planned to bring Dawson, aka Alex, up; guess I screwed the pooch on that one.
“M
y ex from Columbus moved to town. He wants to get back together, hence the complication.…”
“Am I allowed to ask questions about this ex-boyfriend I’ve never met before?”
“I’d rather you didn’t.”
“But that’s what fathers do.”
“Dad, trust me when I say that you don’t want to this time, okay?” I hesitated for a second before continuing, knowing that what I was about to say would hurt him. “We got close when all the trial stuff was going on. You weren’t around much then.”
The way he exhaled back into his chair meant my sleight had hit home. No way would he be digging deeper into that story. He looked like I’d punched him in the gut.
“Would I approve of him?”
No.
“Yeah. I think you’d like him. He’s smart and driven. A real go-getter.”
“And he’s good to you?”
Not especially, unless you count the time he saved my life.…
“The best.”
He looked thoughtful for a moment. “How old is he?”
Twenty-three.
“Eighteen.”
“Then he’d better keep his damn hands to himself.”
“I’ll be sure to tell him you said that.”
The officer in the room gave us a warning that our visit was nearly up, breaking our moment of normalcy.
“So,” I said, squirming in my seat. “About your case—”
“I said I’ll think about it.”
“I could give Meg the transcripts I have. It can’t hurt to have her look them over. And I’m not technically involved then, which is a total bonus for you.”
He bit the inside of his cheek as he mulled over my suggestion.
“Maybe.”
“Time’s up, Danners,” the officer called, coming over to retrieve my father.
“Will I see you soon?” my father asked as he got to his feet.
“Of course. Love you, Dad. And be careful.”
He shot me a look that was full of determination and a hint of mischief.
“Always.”
I watched as he was led away through the security doors and ultimately back to his cage, the one I had to free him from. Though he hadn’t exactly given me permission to share the transcripts with Meg, he hadn’t forbidden it, either. A “maybe” was as good as a “yes” in my books. In truth, a “no” would have been, too.
One way or another, I was going to get my father out of that place—even if it damn near killed me.
ELEVEN
I pulled into the driveway at Gramps’ house just in time for my phone to start buzzing. Knowing who the caller likely was, I yanked my cell out of my bag and answered in a flash.
“Hello?”
“Did you learn anything?” Jane asked. She wasn’t messing around. I had to admit I liked her style.
“I think so.”
“And?” She did nothing to hide her impatience.
“All the girls that I found were declared runaways because they didn’t seem to have anyone that cared enough about them to try and find them. They were loners—outcasts. For the most part, lower income families with sordid histories—abuse, drugs…” Fathers in prison … “There was no media coverage of most of their disappearances, except for a couple, and I doubt there’d be much at the sheriff’s office regarding them, either—not that I have access.”
“I’m sure that cute friend of yours could get you what you needed,” she said. My hair stood on end and my heart stopped. How could she possibly know about Dawson?
“My friend?” I replied, my voice low and thin.
“Yeah. Garrett. The sheriff’s kid.” I let out an exhale as I collapsed against my car. “I’m sure he can help you get whatever you need.”
“Not from a hospital bed.”
“I meant when he gets out, obviously.”
“Maybe you haven’t spent much time at the sheriff’s department, but I can assure you, just because your dad runs the show there doesn’t mean you can walk in and start looking through whatever you want, assuming there’s anything there to look through in the first place.”
“Reports had to have been filed on at least a couple girls, otherwise the media wouldn’t have known.”
“And I’m willing to bet that report is all there is in those files.”
Silence. “Fine. Maybe you’re right, but he’s gotta be your best bet for getting at those records. We don’t have time to waste—I think I might be the next recruiter.…”
“Why?” I asked, my anxiety spiking.
“I knew Danielle the best. She trusted me. The person in charge had to know that.”
“But she tried to get out,” I argued.
“Right, which could be even worse for me if he thinks she told me who he is.”
Yeah. Total catch-22.
“All right,” I said, sighing hard as I wondered how I was going to use Garrett as my cover for whatever Dawson was able to dig up. But keeping all these lies and cover stories straight was sure to get me caught in the end. It was a tall order, especially with my current state of mind. “I’ll talk to Garrett and see what he can do.”
“But he can’t know why,” she blurted out, almost interrupting me.
“That’s going to prove challenging, don’t you think?”
“He was with you when you went after Donovan, right?”
“Yeah, but he also knew why I was doing it.”
“Well, I’m sure you can figure it out.”
“I’ll make it work,” I grumbled, pretending to be irritated.
“You can’t tell him anything, Kylene. Nobody can know what we talk about, got it? Not even that new kid you’re hanging around with.”
“Tabby?” I asked, surprise in my voice.
“Well, yeah, her too, but the guy. The one that looks like he’s too good for the rest of us.”
“That’s my ex-boyfriend.…”
Silence. “You sure about that?” she asked. “He doesn’t look so ‘ex’ to me.”
“Then maybe you should look closer.”
At that, she laughed. “Maybe in a different life, we could have been friends.”
“Or maybe we could now.”
She went silent again. “A girl like you wouldn’t be friends with me.” Her voice was soft and low, but that didn’t mask its acerbic tone. If Jane thought she ranked lower on the social hierarchy than I did, then her circumstances were more unimaginable than I could fathom.
The line went dead.
I let out an exhale that had my lips flapping wildly, raspberry style. Then I let my head loll back so I could stare up at the sunroof. How in the world was I going to use Garrett as a cover when he was still in the hospital? I couldn’t wait until he was out. As far as I was aware, he had no concrete release date, and I knew damn well Dawson wouldn’t wait until he did.
Then I wondered how I was going to work with an informant who trusted no one. A ghost of a girl who’d fallen through the cracks into the hands of a criminal, ready to exploit her. Anger rushed through me at the thought. Though Jane was no typical victim, she was a victim nonetheless. If I had to play the game by her rules for the time being, I would. But Dawson didn’t have to, and I doubted he would. He had resources I could only dream of and a handler back in Columbus who could look into all kinds of leads on his behalf. All I could do was hope that somehow, in our quest to save Jane and the rest of them, we didn’t lose her.
Or worse.
* * *
I had planned to just call Dawson about my chat with Jane but decided it would be easier to go over and tell him in person. I seemed to be more convincing live than on the phone. Lucky me.
The front door opened after I parked Heidi and killed her engine. Her exhaust system was struggling as of late, so you could hear her coming from a solid block away, which would explain why Dawson stood in his doorway looking amused. In the car department, he had me beat.
“Something important to tell me or have you come to take me back?”
he asked as I walked up to meet him.
I rolled my eyes. “The former, clearly.”
“And?” He moved back enough to let me in the house.
“Jane just checked in.”
“You came all the way over here to tell me that?”
“No. I came over here to tell you that she’s pushing for me to use Garrett to get into the sheriff’s office and snag the files on her dead friends. I guess the good news is that she thinks I’m capable of such a feat. The bad news is that I have no clue how I’m going to maintain the façade of not working with the cops but getting this kind of information.”
“So you’re asking me for help?”
His rhetorical question was duly noted.
“I can’t do this on my own,” I said, narrowing my eyes. “But neither can you.”
He closed the door and walked into the living room, plopping himself down with an exhale.
“I need her, Danners. The search of Danielle’s house was a total bust. The FBI couldn’t find anything tying back to the prostitution ring at all. Everything else we’ve compiled so far has led nowhere. All the suspected johns lead to dead ends. They’ve traced the bank accounts they pay to an offshore account at the kind of bank that doesn’t answer to FBI requests. The only girls we’ve ever tracked down all refuse to talk because they’re afraid they’ll be the ones arrested. This is the first big case I’ve gotten to work on since I joined the bureau—I can’t afford for it to end badly.” For a moment, I felt the immense pressure he was under. For the victims; for himself. “I’ve already got the information Jane wants you to look up, but it’s paltry at best. Good ole Sheriff Higgins didn’t dig too far into those girls’ disappearances. There’s nothing there. It’s like he didn’t even consider for one second that they didn’t run away.”
“Interesting.…”
I let my voice trail off, which garnered his attention.
Don't Say a Word (Hometown Antihero) Page 6
