“Jeez, boss.”
My teeth grind. I picture Benny on a hospital bed, nurses clucking over him, hands touching what I broke. A part of me wants to storm the ER and finish the job. Another part knows it’s better this way. He’ll linger, stew in pain, have time to think about the moment he lied to her and made her believe it.
“Did he talk?” I ask.
“Not much. They dosed him pretty quick. Kept mumbling about Summer, though.” Carter hesitates. “Sheriff… you want me to keep him quiet? There are ways.”
“No,” I say instantly, then slow it down. “Not yet. Let him breathe. Let him think he’s safe. I want his tongue working when I’m ready to cut the truth out of him.”
Silence stretches on the line. Carter doesn’t push. He never does. He knows when I say not yet, it doesn’t mean mercy. It means I’m building something worse.
“Now listen close,” I continue, lowering my voice though the house is empty except for the sound of her in the bath upstairs. “You ever heard of a Deputy Thompson?”
There’s a beat, then Carter barks a laugh that dies fast. “No way. I’d know. Hell, you’d know. We’re not exactly a big outfit.”
Thought so.
“She says Harrow claimed a cousin in the department called him. Gave him the news,” I say. “But there’s no Thompson. Not on my payroll, not in this county.”
“That’s calculated,” he says finally. “Not… sloppy. He wanted her to think it came from inside. That’s?—”
War.
“Yeah,” I bite out. “And he picked the right wound to dig in.”
“Want me to pull phone records anyway? Make sure none of my men slipped up?”
“Do it,” I snap. “Tower pings, call logs, everything. I don’t care if it takes you all night. If someone so much as sneezed in Harrow’sdirection with a badge on, I want to know which nostril it came out of.”
“You’ll have it by morning,” he promises.
“Good.” I exhale through my teeth, the fury simmering instead of boiling now. “And Carter?—”
“Yeah?”
“If it turns out there is no leak… if it’s exactly what it looks like—if he took out her parents or knows who did—you let me handle him. Personally.”
I don’t wait for his agreement. I hang up.
The silence afterward is heavier than the conversation. The house groans under it, every floorboard a witness. I set the phone down, flex my fingers, watch fresh blood bead across split skin.
No Deputy Thompson. Never was. Which means Benny Harrow thought he could create a man out of smoke, drape him in a badge, and make her doubt me.
It almost worked.
I shove off the counter and make my way down the hall. The hallway is thick with steam spilling from the bathroom, but the water’s off now. I push the door open again without knocking.
She’s there. Standing by the basin, dripping, wrapped in the towel she’s holding too tight across her chest. Wet hair hangs down her shoulders, sticking to the pale line of her throat. Her skin glows pink from the heat, damp, fragile, like she’s been scalded into porcelain.
She jumps when she sees me, then hardens instantly. Chin up, lips pressed flat.
“You can’t just keep barging in?—”
“There is no Thompson,” I snarl, cutting her off. “Carter confirmed what I already knew. There’s no deputy by that name anywhere near my department. Harrow fed you a ghost.”
She tightens the towel, her knuckles white where they grip it. “He said?—”
“He said what he needed to say.” My voice lowers, darker. “He wanted you to doubt me, and he knew exactly where to cut. Heknew I wasn’t here when you needed me, so he invented a man in uniform to make me the villain.”
