“That’s a great deal.”
“Yeah, it is, and Russ and his parents won’t cave when Lincoln Blake pushes at them. I had a go-round with him and the kid tonight.”
“You won’t cave, either.”
“No, I won’t. Justin and his pals are spending the night in jail. They’ll make bail tomorrow, Blake will see to it. But Justin’s got two choices. He takes a plea and does time, or he stands trial and does time, but he goes down this time. And either way the Blakes pay every cent of the damages. Jesus, I’m pissed off.”
He shoved up, stalked to the window. “I should’ve gone home.”
“You wouldn’t be pissed off at home?”
“No, I’d be pissed off anywhere. That fat, self-satisfied, cigar-smoking fuckhead figures he can threaten me with my job, and I’ll scare off?”
“The father?”
“Yeah, the father.”
“Can he have you fired?”
“If he can, they can shove the job. I don’t want it if I can’t fucking do it. Not if some overprivileged asshole can do whatever the hell he wants and I’m supposed to look the other way.”
“Money is power,” Abigail said quietly, “but it’s not the only power.”
“I guess we’ll see. I went over to talk to Russ’s parents, and Russ and Seline—his wife—after I dealt with the lawyer. She cried. Mrs.Conroy. This sweet, funny woman who always had peanut butter cookies in the jar, just broke down and cried. I should’ve found a way to put that little bastard away before it went this far.”
“It’s useless to blame yourself for what this person did, or what his father has been able to do, especially when the pattern was set long before you took the position as chief of police. The rational thing to do is arrest him, which you have, and to compile evidence for the prosecutor to assist in getting a guilty verdict at trial. That wasn’t sympathetic,” she realized.
Brooks sat back down, picked up his tea. “Worked pretty well, though. I know the logic of it, Abigail.”
“But your friend and his family have been hurt. It’s emotional as well as financial and physical and criminal. People should pay for their actions. There should be consequences. There should be justice.”
Her hand balled into a fist on the table for a moment before she ordered herself to relax it. “It’s hard not to feel sad and angry and even hopeless when bad things happen, because fear and influence and money often outweigh justice.”
He leaned forward, laid a hand over hers. “Who hurt you?”
She shook her head, said nothing.
“Not yet, then.”
“What will you do tomorrow?”
“I’ve got a seven-thirty meeting with the prosecutor to go over everything again. We’ll have an arraignment, bail hearing. I expect they’ll cut Justin and the others loose until trial. I don’t figure he’ll go for a plea straight off. Maybe, once it gets closer, maybe if the lawyers don’t screw it up. The Conroys are just mad enough to go for a civil suit on top of it. I won’t be discouraging that. It’s time the pressure came from the other side.”
“Then you know what you have to do and how to do it. Are they violent?”
“The kid likes to bust things up.”
“I meant could or would they try to hurt you or your friend’s family? Using violence as intimidation.”
“Can’t say for sure, but I wouldn’t go there. Money’s Blake’s weapon of choice.”
Abigail considered. “I don’t believe they can have you fired.”
“Don’t you?”
“Objectively, your family is a fixture in the community. Liked and respected. You’re also liked and respected in your own right. I assume as a multigenerational business family, with a key property in the community, your friend and his family are also valued. Their property was damaged through reckless and selfish behavior, so sympathy and outrage will be on their side. Those things are also weapons. Extrapolating from what you’ve said tonight, I’d posit that the Blakes are somewhat feared but not well liked. There are likely many people in the community who’d be pleased if the son is punished for his actions.”
“Extrapolating. Now, how can you use words like that and still manage to make me feel a whole hell of a lot better?”
