It was Vince.
"Olivia, I need you to step into the office and close the door. Call the number on this business card and tell John Hurley that Vince Buckley is on my property." When she stared blankly at him, he opened the door to the private office and gave her shoulder a nudge. "Go now, Olivia. Make the call."
As Vince came closer, Devon noticed he sported a healing cut over one eyebrow and some sort of bandage over his nose. Devon began contemplating a weapons permit as the traitorous bastard opened the shop door. "I have to give you credit, Vince; it takes a lot of balls to show your face here."
Vince stopped just inside the door. "I need to talk to you."
"I have nothing to say."
"Then just listen. I need your help."
Devon laughed in complete disbelief. "Youarejoking, aren't you?"
Vince held his hands up in supplication. "I'm not. Look, it was an accident. I need you to tell the cops it was an accident. I can't go to prison."
"You can and you should. It's time for you to leave."
"Anna's pregnant. I need to be with her and the baby." His tone turned wheedling, and Devon hated him all the more. "You can convince the district attorney to give me probation."
"I'm sorry to hear your wife will raise a baby alone, but that's exactly what you deserve. You deserve to be separated from your child, to know what it feels like. Of course, it's not the same since you'll know where your child is. You won't wonder if she's dead only to find out your best friend knew she was in a fucking well the entire time because he put her there!"
Vince flinched at the venom in Devon's voice. "I panicked."
"And then?"
Vince frowned. "What do you mean?"
"So you panicked. And then what? What's your excuse for the days and nights you let me suffer? What's your excuse for leaving her out there torot? For helping us look when you were the one person who knew exactly where the fuck she was!" Impatient with it all, Devon shook his head. "Get the fuck out, or I'll physically throw you out."
"You have to help me! You've already cost me my job, the least you can do is let me be there for Anna!" Vince advanced toward the counter, the only thing separating him from his oldest friend.
Fed up, Devon roared, "Were you always this psychotic and I just never realized it? Get the fuck out!"
But Vince didn't get out. He launched himself around the end of the counter and charged at Devon. "I owe you a broken nose, asshole!"
Devon heard Olivia let out a short scream. She’d left the office door open a crack and recorded the scene with her cell phone. Just as Vince drew close, Devon remembered to plant his feet and brace himself. Upon impact, they stumbled a few steps, but didn't fall. Devon threw the first punch, and a familiar red wash came over his vision as he pounded into Vince.
"All right, stop!"
He registered the voice of the sergeant, but it wasn't until strong arms wrapped around his chest and hauled him up that he quit swinging.
"I know we agreed to meet here, but this wasn't what I had in mind." John looked at a bloody Vince sprawled on the floor. "You should have learned your lesson the last time he kicked your ass."
Olivia opened the office door all the way. "I have it on video, officer. That guy started it." She pointed at Vince and held her phone out to John.
"It's sergeant, and thanks for this." He set her phone on the counter and kept one hand on Devon's shoulder as an officer began the process of arresting Vince.
"I told him to leave. I made her hide and call you, and I told him more than once to leave. He charged me," Devon ranted. He watched an officer lead Vince to a patrol car, blue and red lights revolving. Vince shot him a look of pure hatred before he got into the vehicle.
Devon gulped in air, flexing barely healed knuckles which had split open yet again. He realized he was crying and turned away from Olivia. "He wanted my help. Can you believe that?"
John stood quietly and let Devon get it out of his system.
"Said it was an accident and if I would just tell everyone that, he could get probation and stay out of prison. It's my fault, apparently, that his life has gone to shit." He wiped his palms over his face, frustrated that everything suddenly made him cry.
"It began as an accident, and then it morphed into malicious intent. He backed his work truck into her, Devon, and knocked her out. Her head wound came from the bumper. He thought she was dead because she was unconscious and her temple bled so much."
"Head wounds bleed more," Devon murmured. His stomach churned. Vince thought he'd killed Hailey. Devon thanked God all the time that she'd lived.
