“All’s I’m sayin’,” Dalton said, leaning closer to the metal barrier between them. “Is that Mercy is that kind of woman and I did all the wrong things trying not to lose her. I’d hate myself for that if hating myself hadn’t led me down this path. Now I’m gonna do all the right things to win her back.”
Back seat declarations were a dime a dozen and not something Santiago gave much credence to.
“I hear you got Clyde in a program, heard he’s gonna be starting a job over at Saige’s. Me, I don’t need help with no job, but I need a program. I’ll do my time if ain’t no other way but I’d just a soon do what I need to do to be there for my family.”
“Here lately you haven’t been doing them or you any good.”
“Them drugs, Sheriff, they’re an evil sickness that makes you feel all the right things or nothing at all. But if you can work with me, I’ll give you enough information on Tommy and his people that you can shut down their supply chain by nightfall.”
Santiago peered at Dalton through the rearview mirror.
“People underestimate my survival instinct; it don’t stop scanning, taking in all kinds of details, unless it’s slowed down by the drugs. Shit’s overwhelming.”
The spike in drugs began well before Santiago moved back to Shrouded Lake, but in his time here they’d only been able to arrest low-level sellers and their buyers. No one before this had been willing to give up any information about the bigger players.
“You help me, I promise I’ll make sure you get lesser charges, and a program that will keep you in town.”
“Thank you, Sheriff. Once I got the deal signed up in writing, you’ll have enough to put Tommy and his crew away for a good while.”
Santiago smiled. Dalton may not have been at the head of his class growing up, but his awareness and instincts were sharp. Maybe after Dalton got back on his feet, Santiago could enlist him as a volunteer for the department.
He pulled up to the station moments before Roan.
“We’re going to go in there and you’re going to keep your head down and your mouth shut until we can meet with the DA, understood?”
“If this ain’t done in the next few hours, I likely be too sick to talk to anybody for a while.”
“Sheriff, you there?”
He tapped the button on his radio.
“I’m here Audrey, just pulled up to the station.”
“Oh, thank God. I just received a call from Lina. She says her special guest just finished getting ready for the mayor and his mother’s return visit. The Archers just parked across the street with their no-account lawyer, Paul Sullivan. Both me and Lina fear things might get out of hand, because what on God’s green earth is she getting readyfor?”
On the sidewalk, Santiago radioed to have Derry put Dalton in Lauren’s cell. He didn’t want the man locked in one of the four basement cells with Tommy. He then radioed Roan and told her what was happening. “Once they’re both booked, come on over to Lina’s. It might be nothing, but Ms. Green hasn’t left town, and it looks like the Archers have lawyered up and are preparing to confront her.”
Santiago didn’t waste time; he got in his vehicle and sped off.
He’d come to his aunt’s for breakfast and spied Ms. Green asleep in the sitting room. Her head faced the back of the couch, but her ass, half-exposed in boy shorts, looked like a perfectly formed flotation device. His palms itched towhapit, watch the ripples, feel her warm flesh against his cool hand. He hadn’t planned on returning to his aunt’s until later tonight, wanting to give the hellion time to get up, get dressed, and continue on the destination she’d set before he’d made the mistake of interrupting her journey.
Siren’s blaring, he now sped to the bed and breakfast wondering the same fucking thing his aunt and Audrey were. What the hell was she preparing for?
By the time he pulled up, the mayor’s car was already parked out front; Paul Sullivan’s car parked right behind it.
Andy Archer pulled up as Santiago got out of his cruiser and slipped on his shades.
“If you don’t have a damn good reason for being here Archer, maybe you’ll think of a better one for being at the station.”
Andy threw him a shit-eating grin as he leaned against his truck and fished a pack of cigarettes out of his front pocket.
At about six feet tall with a gym sculpted body, Andy was a good-looking twenty-six-year-old who liked to cosplay being a working class good ol’ boy. In truth the motherfucker wasn’t good, nor had he worked an honest job a day in his life. Didn’t have to.
“Don’t you worry one bit, Stillwater,” Andy said, lighting his cigarette. “The mayor calls, I come running like any good son would. But I’m more than willing to wait out here. Wouldn’t want to trigger that old Stillwater temper and end up with a bullet in my head.”
A bullet in his head would at least guarantee the little shit had something of value in there, Santiago thought, disregarding Andy’s attempt to remind him that the kid who left Shrouded Lake was more prone to violence than the man who returned.
“You’ve been warned,” Santiago said, approaching Aunt Lina’s front door.
