A nervous laugh. “You want a drink? Whisky, beer, soda?”
“I’m good.”
I step closer. No point dragging it out. The moment Frankie said Lexus, I knew.“Was the DUI the only thing Willard had on you,” I ask evenly, “or was there more?”
He goes still. Shoulders tight. “That was it,” he says finally. “I’d had too much one night. I thought I was fine. I wasn’t.”
He tells the story in the neutral voice of a newsreader: how he collided with a parked car, panicked and called Willard directly. The next thing he knew, the sheriff had made the whole thing vanish. “Didn’t even ask if I wanted it buried. Just handled it. And then came the favors.”
“You let him own you,” I say flatly. His face creases, shame tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I did,” he whispers. “And it’s eaten at me every day since.”
“When my dad started digging into Willard,” I press, “did you know?”
His throat works.
“I had a feeling. Your father came by once, mentioned inconsistencies. After he died, I asked a few questions. Willard told me to back off or else.” He looks down, voice breaking. “And I told myself keeping quiet was protecting Cole. But the truth? It was fear. Just fear.”
I rake a hand through my hair.
My dad had stood in this same town and refused to look the other way. He wasn’t afraid of being from the wrong side of Baywood.
He wasn’t afraid of the truth. But the truth buried him.
“I’m so sorry, Xaden,” Andrew says, quieter now.
“You knew I was dating your son. Did you ever think about what would happen when Cole found out who you protected?”
He flinches. “I thought about it every day. I saw the way he looked at you… the way you looked at him. I knew it wasn’t casual. I just—” he swallows hard, “I hoped it would burn out before it got too deep.”
“So you let it fall apart.”
His face twists. “I told myself it was better if Cole didn’t get dragged into all this. That he deserved safety, not scandal. We had that… situation with Lizzie, and Cole was already so shaken because of that. But maybe I was just scared. I don’t even know anymore. Scared ofWillard, of losing everything.” He shakes his head. “I chose silence for Cole and abandoned Lizzie. And I hate myself for both. Every day.”
I hear Dad in my head, voice rough but warm:The world doesn’t get to decide if you belong, kid. That’s your call.
“I’m glad I’m not from your East Bay world of secrets and corruption,” I say, voice sharp and bitter. He exhales, defeated, and pours himself a whiskey with a shaking hand.
“So what now? Does Cole know?”
“Not yet. But he will.”
He studies me, really studies me. No malice, only regret. “How’d you find all this? This goes deeper than garage gossip. You made a deal inside?”
“In a way, yes,” I say simply. Andrew looks blank, and I decide to take a risk. I see a defeated man in front of me, but also a man of dignity. He won’t rat me out to Willard.“I work for SBI.”
His eyes widen. “You’re a cop?”
I give him a crooked smile. “It’s not public knowledge so keep it to yourself but yeah. Here to serve.”
He sinks onto a stool. Then reaches into a drawer and pulls out a battered envelope. “I kept some things just in case; some notes, memos, council papers. Stuff that didn’t sit right. I didn’t know who else to give them to.”
I take the envelope. It’s heavy in my hands. Heavy enough to crush a town.
Dad had tried to speak. Andrew had decided not to.
Then— footsteps on concrete. I turn.
Cole is in the doorway. Frozen. Eyes flicking from me, to the envelope, to his father. “Dad?” he says, voice small.
