That was the man Billy sat in front of now.
Dressed in prison orange, Bryan Copeland looked across the table at him with the eyes of a snake ready to strike.
“Well merry Christmas to me,” he greeted Billy. “Couldn’t stay away from the man who made your career possible, Sheriff?”
Billy had nothing to prove to the man. Nothing to defend, either. At the time, Billy hadn’t known stopping Bryan would help him become sheriff. He’d just wanted to stop the man and his business before both destroyed his home.
A choice he didn’t regret and never would.
“I have some questions for you.”
Bryan scoffed.
“If you can’t do your job, Sheriff, then I’m certainly not going to do it for you.”
Billy ignored his comment and put the sketch of Beck on the table between them. He kept it turned over. Bryan’s eyes never strayed to it.
“Where’s your secret stash?”
Bryan didn’t flinch.
“First of all, that’s a ridiculous question that makes you sound like you’re some preteen on a treasure hunt,” Bryan said. “Secondly, I don’t have a secret stash.”
“And third?” Billy asked with a low sigh. Bryan’s nostrils flared. He didn’t like it when the person he was talking to showed disinterest or contempt. It rubbed against his ego, something he’d been fluffing for decades.
“If I did have a secret stash, of whatever it is you think I have, why in hell would I ever tell you about it?” Bryan was nearly seething. His dislike for Billy was pure. The moment he’d found out that Mara had betrayed him and helped Billy was the moment Bryan Copeland began to hate him more than anyone in the world.
That’s how Billy knew that just asking would get him nowhere.
So, he was going to gun for the man’s precious pride instead.
“Because, if you don’t tell me where it is, this man will eventually find it.” Billy flipped over the picture and pushed it toward him. “And he’ll use it to pick up where you left off. But this time he’ll do it better, smarter and with your help whether you want to give it or not. He’ll take your legacy and make it his own. In fact, he’s already started.”
Bryan’s lips had thinned but his expression remained blank. His eyes, however, trailed down to the picture. If he recognized Beck, it didn’t register in his face or posture. When he answered, he seemed as uptight as he had been when he’d been escorted into the room.
“I don’t know what you came here to try and accomplish, but I can tell you now that you should have saved the gas.” Bryan fingered the picture. “I don’t know this man and I don’t know his business. What I do know is that if I had a secret stash it would have been found during the investigation. Unless you’re admitting to me now that you’re not that great at your job. Which, again, to be honest, I already knew.” Bryan’s eyes turned to slits. His nostrils flared. “Why else would you need my daughter’s help to catch me?”
Billy knew in that moment that the only way he’d get an answer was to use Mara. Because Bryan Copeland might appear to be a man who wasn’t affected by the world, but the truth was he had one weakness.
His daughter.
He’d loved her so much that he hadn’t ever entertained the idea that she could turn on him. That she would turn on him. That’s why he was handcuffed to a table, sitting in an interrogation room with an armed guard behind him.
But Billy wanted to keep her out of the room for as long as he could. So he leveled with her father.
“This man goes by the name Beck,” Billy started. “As far as we know, he has one associate who isn’t afraid of killing. One or both of them were involved in the murders of three people, two of whom were in police custody when they were killed. They are also responsible for putting three people in the hospital, but that wasn’t because of mercy. It’s because the people they hurt got lucky.” Billy purposely didn’t name anyone who had been killed or attacked. He knew Bryan wouldn’t care. His response confirmed that belief.
“So? I’ve had nothing to do with this Beck person or his friend. And if you don’t believe me then I’m sure the warden won’t mind giving me an alibi.” He motioned to the room around them, as if Billy needed the fact that he was in prison emphasized.
“I’m telling you because the only reason we know about Beck is because he showed up at your daughter’s house and threatened her.” An almost imperceptible shift occurred in the man across from him. Billy didn’t know if Bryan did or did not know Beck but the fact that the man had been to see his daughter was news to him. “Since then he’s had people try to kidnap her, put her in the hospital and they’ve even shot at her. All because they think she knows where this stash of yours is located.”
Bryan laughed out loud. This time Billy was the one who was surprised.
“They think she might be in cahoots with her old man, huh?” he said around another bite of laughter. It wasn’t the kind filled with mirth or humor. It was dark. Menacing. “You and I both know how wrong the assumption that my daughter and I work together is, don’t we, Sheriff?” He lowered his voice. Despite the decrease in volume, his words thundered. “The one who would rather be in your bed than a part of my life.”
Billy was trying not to let Bryan get to him, but that one comment created an almost feral reaction within him. One where he felt the need to protect Mara’s name and, to some degree, protect himself.
It bothered Billy the way Mara’s only family talked about her with such distaste—such hate—while he also had never liked the fact that Bryan suspected he and Mara had been together. It wasn’t that Billy had been ashamed of her—he hadn’t ever been—but they’d told only a few people about their relationship. Bryan had not only guessed but been certain that Billy and Mara were together. Which meant Bryan Copeland was either really good at reading his daughter or Billy...or someone had told him.
Regardless of which it was, Billy was still bothered by it. He stood and went to the guard next to the door.
“Bring her in,” he said, low enough that Bryan couldn’t hear.
The guard nodded and left.
Billy returned to the table but didn’t sit down. Instead, he moved to the corner of the room.
“And what tactic is this?” Bryan asked, amused. “Trying to intimidate me by sending the guard away? There are much more intimidating men in this place, Sheriff. With some tricks that end in death. This isn’t going to—”
The door started to open.
“This isn’t a trick,” Billy interrupted. He nodded in the direction of the guard. Mara was behind him. Her back was straight, her shoulders straight, and her eyes sharp and cautious. She rounded the table and took a seat across from her father.
The amusement Bryan had shown Billy disappeared in an instant. If it was possible, he seemed to sit up straighter, as if a board had been attached to his back. With the two of them mirroring each other, Billy realized how much the father and daughter looked alike.
Mara was the first to speak.
“Hey, Dad.”
Chapter Sixteen
“You’ve got more nerve coming here than he does.”
Mara wasn’t surprised by her father’s response, but that didn’t mean it didn’t still hurt a little. She kept her face as expressionless as she could and tried to remember why they were there. Why she was subjecting herself to the emotional torture she’d tried to avoid for two years.
For Alexa, she thought. To stop this madness once and for all.
“I’m tired of being hunted, Dad,” she said. “Beck—”
Bryan slammed his fist against the tabletop. Mara jumped.
“You wouldn’t be hunted if you hadn’t betrayed me,” he snarled. “You made your bed when you turned on the only family you had and both of you are just going to have to lie in it
!”
Billy started to move forward, already trying to defend her, Mara was sure, but she hadn’t had her say yet.
“You tried to create a drug empire out of an entire county, Dad. That’s three towns and a city worth of people,” she responded. “What was I supposed to do when I found out? Sit back and watch?”
“You should have come to me,” he seethed. “Not him. I’m your father, your flesh and blood. I raised you, kept food on the table and a roof over your head. I bent over backwards to make sure you never wanted for anything. And now, what do I get in return? A prison cell, Mara! A damn prison cell!”
This time Mara heard Billy begin to speak but she’d had enough.
“Do you remember what you told me when you decided to move to Kipsy? You said you moved because you needed a slower pace. That you wanted to relax. Those were your words. And then you asked me to move there, too. Do you remember what I told you?” Mara was yelling now. Whatever dam was holding her emotions back had broken the moment her father spoke. When he didn’t answer, it was Mara’s turn to slam her hand against the table. It hurt but she ignored the pain.
“I said I didn’t want to,” she continued. “I had a good life that I didn’t want to leave. I had a good job, friends and a home. But no. When I came down to visit, you talked about missing me and being lonely and how Kipsy was a good city filled with good people. You painted this picture of a life you knew I’d always wanted. One where we’d be happy, where I’d meet a good man, raise a family, and you’d sit on your front porch swinging with your grandkids and sipping sweet tea. I could even start a business and have the dream job I’d always wished for. You tried so hard to convince me to love the idea of Kipsy that it worked. I fell in love with it. So, what did you expect would happen when you started to destroy it all?”
“You could have still had all of those things,” he responded, more quietly than he had been before. “I always protected you. You were never in any danger. You could have had everything, but, instead, you sided with him.”
Her father’s eyes cut to Billy with such a look of disgust in them that the dam within her disintegrated further until there was nothing left. Mara fisted her hands and, for the first time in years, yelled at her father so loudly she felt her face heat.
“Don’t you dare blame Billy or me or anyone else for your mistakes. You made them and now you’re the one who has to take responsibility for them!” Mara took out the picture she’d tucked into her back pocket. She hadn’t planned on using it, but she’d recognized the possibility that she might have to. She slammed the picture down and slid it over to him, next to the picture of Beck.
“You may hate me, Dad. You may not care what Beck and his friends will do to me. You may even want something bad to happen to me. But what about her?” Just seeing the smiling face of Alexa looking up from the picture calmed Mara. Her voice lowered to an even level but she didn’t drop any of the hostility. Her father’s eyes stayed on the picture as she continued. “This is your granddaughter, Alexa. She didn’t investigate you and she certainly didn’t have a hand in putting you in here. So, please, Dad, don’t make her pay for our mistakes.”
Mara was done. There was nothing left for her to say—to add—to try and sway her father to tell them if he really had a stash and, if so, where it was. She was exhausted. Drained. Yet relieved in a way, too. Not only was she facing her father but she had said exactly what she’d always wanted to.
His eyes stayed on the picture but he didn’t say anything right away. Billy took advantage of the silence, perhaps sensing Mara was out of ideas.
“These men believe without a doubt that you have a stash and Mara knows exactly where it is. They’ve also made it clear that they don’t care what happens to Alexa in the process of trying to find it or use Mara. They’ll kill her, and then eventually they’ll kill your daughter.” Even as he said it, she knew he hated the words. Mara knew the feeling. Just the mention of harm to Alexa had a knot forming in her stomach.
“There’s no wedding ring on your finger,” her father said after a moment. “But she’s his, isn’t she?” His eyes were slits of rage as he looked at Billy, but she knew what he said next was aimed at her. “Don’t you dare lie to me about this.”
“We’re not together, but yes, she’s mine,” Billy answered.
The simple admission that Billy was, indeed, Alexa’s father should have made Mara happy, and it did—but the first part of the sentence hurt more than she expected. She strained to keep her expression as blank as possible. Maybe the last few days had just been two people caught up in madness, trying to comfort each other for different reasons. Maybe, when everything was said and done, they’d go back to their lives with the only link between them being Alexa. Maybe it had been lust and not love that had tangled them together.
Her father was watching her intently. She didn’t need to think about the future when the present was being threatened.
“You two come up here like I owe you something I don’t,” Bryan Copeland said, standing. “Using a granddaughter I didn’t even know existed isn’t the way to get me to tell you anything. I can’t help you.” He turned and looked to the guard. “I’m done talking with them.”
“Bryan,” Billy tried, but the man wasn’t having any of it. Before he was escorted from the room, he looked at Billy. There was nothing but sincerity when he spoke.
“Watch out for daughters, Sheriff. They’ll stab you in the back every time.”
* * *
“REED, HOLD UP a second.”
Billy paused in his walk to the car. Mara, however, didn’t. She hadn’t said a word since Bryan left. Her eyes, dark and deep, had stayed dead ahead as they went through the process of leaving the prison.
The guard who’d been in the room with the three of them, a man named Ned, jogged up to Billy, mouth already open and ready to talk. Billy wondered if he’d forgotten some procedure for signing out. If so, he hoped it wouldn’t take too long. The day had turned into a scorcher.
“I know it was none of my business to listen but sometimes you can’t help it when you’re in the room.” Ned shrugged. “But I didn’t know if you caught on to what Mr. Copeland was talking about when he said he wouldn’t tell you anything.”
Billy felt his eyebrow rise.
“And you do?”
“I guess I can’t speak with complete certainty in Mr. Copeland’s case, but you see, there’s a different kind of world here,” he said, thrusting his thumb over his shoulder to the prison. “There are men serving time in there who have done a hell of a lot worse than run drugs. Men who take to killing like it was nothing. Heck, some of them don’t even break a sweat trying to do the same thing even when they’re living in a cell.”
“Yeah, I’d imagine that’s true. But what’s that have to do with anything?” Billy was frustrated. Not at the man in front of him, but in general. He didn’t want to stand out in the heat and talk about prison politics if he could help it.
“What I’m saying is that a man like Bryan Copeland may look intimidating to the general public with his tidiness and fancy talk, but in there—” again he thrust his thumb back over his shoulder “—in there he doesn’t have anything going for him. But he’s never had any problems as far as we know.”
Billy was about to tell the man to go back inside if he wasn’t going to be helpful, but then he heard Bryan’s words again.
“He said, I can’t help you not I won’t,” Billy realized. Ned nodded.
“My guess, if that money or whatever exists, he’s using it as insurance to keep him safe in here.” Ned shrugged. “I could be way off, but it’s happened before.”
“So keeping the stash hidden might be the only thing keeping him alive in there.”
Ned nodded. “He could use it to buy protection from certain inmates or use it as leverage,” Ned confirmed.
&n
bsp; “Any idea who he might be targeted by if someone was trying to kill him?”
Ned’s expression hardened. The new tension in his shoulders let Billy know he’d not be getting an answer from the guard.
“I don’t know,” he supplied. “Sorry.”
“No problem,” Billy said. “At least we have an idea of why he won’t tell us.” Billy cast a look at Mara. She was leaning against the car, looking out at the road in the distance. Even from where he stood, Billy knew she wasn’t there with them. Her thoughts had carried her miles and miles away. “But knowing that might not be a good thing.”
“Why’s that?” the guard asked.
“Because it still means that Bryan would rather protect himself than protect his daughter and granddaughter.”
* * *
MARA DIDN’T SAY anything for the majority of their drive back, much like the drive there. But this time, she wasn’t sure if it was for the same reasons.
She kept her gaze out the windshield, watching as the road disappeared beneath them. Billy had told her what Ned the guard had said, but that was only the cherry on top of a trip she shouldn’t have taken. Any relief she’d felt at finally confronting her dad, telling him about his granddaughter and admitting Billy was the father was no longer warming the cold that had been sitting like a rock in her stomach.
Not only was her father not going to help them, he’d made it very clear that she was no longer wanted in his life. Which, to be honest, she had expected—yet there she was, feeling the sting of it still.
Mara leaned her head back against the headrest and closed her eyes.
The emotional strain of seeing her father—and the past that she’d never be able to change, even if she wanted to—had wiped Mara out physically.
However, no sooner had her eyes closed than Mara was back in that room with Billy saying they weren’t together. It shouldn’t have bothered her, considering it was a fact she already knew, but still... The finality of the words, said in the strong, clear voice she’d come to enjoy more than she should have, had broken something within her. In a way that she hadn’t expected.
Small-Town Face-Off Page 13
