Crossing the line

Chapter Thirty-Four

Wyatt looked at the DOJ card in his hand.

He tapped it against the aged wood, trying to get up the nerve to make a call he didn’t want to make. He tried to think rationally and consider his options, but none of them were great. He could step down as sheriff to save himself from the embarrassment of being fired.

But damn, he liked being sheriff.

Even on bad days, he liked it.

Willingly letting it go was going to be the second-hardest thing he’d ever done in his life. Losing Tabitha would always be the most difficult. He’d already done it once. He knew how fucking heart-wrenching it was. He breathed for her, but he thrived because of his job. Now he had to do both at the same time. What the hell would he have left to keep taking blood pressure medication for? He might as well just toss the bottle in the trash now and let the stress of a criminal trial kill him.

Jules had Romeo now. She had Nova and Tino too, and like Wyatt had observed at the hospital yesterday—his father had raised his sister strong.

Clay had Melody, and Wyatt knew the two of them would flourish easily without him.

There really was nothing left.

“For you.”

Wyatt looked down at the plate Tabitha put in front of him and grimaced. “What the hell is it?”

“It’s a broccoli-and-spinach egg-white omelet.” Tabitha sat down across him with another plate with the same beige-and-green creation. “At least try it.”

Wyatt picked up the orange Tabitha had garnished the dish with and put it in his mouth, giving her an orange-rind grin.

She giggled as she looked at him. “You’re silly.”

He snorted and took it out of his mouth. “Sometimes.”

Wyatt went ahead and picked up the fork on the plate and tried a bite. He raised his eyebrows after a moment and said, “It ain’t half-bad.”

“Ain’t half-bad at all,” Tabitha agreed as she took a bite too.

“You can officially make anything taste good,” Wyatt said as he stabbed at the omelet. “It’s one of your many talents.”

“You can thank my mother for that.” Tabitha laughed bitterly. “I’ve put some pretty creative ingredients together to make something palatable.”

“Your mother’s a bitch, Tabitha,” Wyatt declared as he took another bite, and it felt good to finally say it out loud after thinking it since he was eight years old. “I hate her.”

Tabitha was silent for a long moment before she nodded. “Yeah, she is.”

“You just spent forty thousand dollars restoring her house,” Wyatt reminded her.

“I did,” Tabitha agreed.

“And I ain’t even gonna ask what the medical bills cost,” Wyatt went on. “Why?”

“I don’t know.” Tabitha shrugged. “I probably need to go to a support group for codependents and figure it out.”

Wyatt laughed. “Better late than never, I guess.”

“What’s one more support group, right?” Tabitha laughed with him. “I’m making a collection over here.”

“Do you have support groups in Key West?” Wyatt asked her seriously. “Have you been getting help with everything?”

“I have.” Tabitha gave him a wan smile. “I have a good network there.”

“Good.” Wyatt took a deep breath, taking comfort from that. “I want you to be okay. I want it more than anything.”

Tabitha seemed to consider that for a long moment, as if actually looking for a way to assure him she’d be okay if they broke up again. Then she looked back down at her breakfast and whispered, “Eat your omelet.”

Wyatt ate it rather than point out it could use salt. He noticed the shaker had disappeared off the table. Rather than irritate him, it made him smile as he stared at the lonely pepper now by itself. He couldn’t really complain about someone loving him enough to forgo salt and cheese on an omelet and appear to enjoy broccoli and spinach instead.

They were nearly done with breakfast when a knock sounded at the front door, and Wyatt frowned as he looked out of the kitchen. “It’s seven in the morning.”

“I can get it.” Tabitha pushed away from the table.

“No, I’ll get it.” Wyatt stood. “I’ll look for the saltshaker while I’m at it.”

Tabitha giggled again and announced, “Silly.”

Wyatt touched the top of her head affectionately when he took the long route around the table. “Love you.”

“Love you too.”

Wyatt pulled his phone out of his pocket as he walked to the door. He was looking for some sort of hint as to who it could be. Maybe someone had tried to call and hadn’t been able to get through. It had been snowing through the night, and it messed with his connection sometimes.

Garnet didn’t have the greatest cellular service.

No messages.

No texts.

Wyatt pulled back the curtain at the window next to the door. He found Nova Moretti tilting his head and looking at him, as if expecting the action.

Fantastic.

Wyatt opened the door. “Is everything okay?”

“Did you make the call yet?” Nova asked rather than answer his question.

“The call?”

“To the DOJ,” Nova clarified. “You didn’t do it last night after you left, did you?”

“Why do you care?”

“Did you make it or not?” Nova countered in a sharp voice.

“No. I was gonna do it after breakfast.”

“Okay.” Nova pulled his coat off and walked in without being invited. “So we’ll figure out your story over breakfast. I haven’t eaten yet.”

Wyatt just gaped at him. “You think I’m going over my story with you?”

“Why wouldn’t you?”

“Nothing personal.” Wyatt let out a laugh of disbelief. “But you’re not exactly the best person to go over a DOJ case with. This is my business. I can handle my own case.”

“No, it’s my business.” Nova gave him a pointed look. “Eluding federal investigators is one of my specialties. This is what I do, Conner. I make sure family doesn’t get caught. The money laundering is just the icing on the cake. I’m capo bastone for a reason, and today’s your lucky friggin’ day, because I’ve decided I’m gonna help you whether you want me to or not. The fee for it has been paid way in advance.”

Wyatt stood there in shock because he and Nova had come to an unspoken understanding when they’d first met that they wouldn’t talk about or even acknowledge what Nova did for a living.

Now he’d just blurted it out as if he’d never treaded lightly to begin with. It was one of the most bizarre things Wyatt had ever encountered.

“Your turn.” Nova gave him a smile, obviously knowing he’d shocked Wyatt speechless. “Time to spill it. I need all the gritty details. We can go somewhere else if you don’t want Tabitha to hear.”

“What’s a capo bastone?” Tabitha asked from the doorway to the kitchen.

“Mafia underboss,” Wyatt answered for her.

“Very good.” Nova’s smile widened. “Next you’ll tell me you know how to read and write too.”

“Screw you, Moretti.” Wyatt glared at him. “I ain’t stupid.”

Nova laughed. “You just said ‘ain’t.’”

“Oh my God; get the fuck out of my house.” Wyatt gestured to the door. “I appreciate the offer, but I got this, and I’m just going to pretend you didn’t say the rest.”

“Look at me, chipping at your morals one annoying rule at a time.” Nova sounded genuinely proud of himself. “We’re making good time. We could have you self-serving enough to pull this off before lunch.”

Wyatt just shook his head, because he’d been dealing with this family for almost a year now, and he knew they were loyal to a fault. “Is this for Jules?” he asked. “’Cause I think she’d disagree with this.”

“Her too,” Nova said cryptically and then gave Wyatt a hard look. “Look, Conner, if you’re in half as much trouble as I think you are, I’m your only chance at getting outta this. Is this guy you shot worth losing everything for?”

“No.” Wyatt’s stomach lurched at just the thought of Vaughn Davis being his downfall. “There ain’t even words for how much of a low-life motherfucker that asshole is.”

Nova held up his hands. “Then why not give me a shot?”

“And you think you know more ’bout the laws than I do? I was raised on the law.”

“The difference between us is they’re not laws to me. They’re loopholes,” Nova countered. “Here’s another secret for you. I’ve got a photographic memory. I have read a lot of law books in my life, and I remember all of them. If anyone can find you a loophole, it’s me.”

Wyatt was stunned speechless for the second time that morning. Anyone else, and he would call bullshit, but he had to admit Nova Moretti had an annoying tendency to know the answer to just about everything. He shouldn’t be nearly as surprised as he was. It was just such a remarkable thing to confess to.

“Is that true?” Tabitha sounded awed. “You remember everything you see?”

“Not just everything I see.” Nova turned to Tabitha with a genuinely warm smile rather than the sharp, cynical ones he gave Wyatt. “I remember everything. Period. I can fix this for you, Tabitha. Please let me.”

Tabitha looked to Wyatt, and he saw the small glimmer of hope in her gaze. She wanted to trust that the help was available. It was one of the things he loved about her. She could find hope even in her darkest hours. She believed in heroes and happy endings. Wyatt never wanted to see that rare light go out. She had managed to touch the whole world with it.

He would do anything to preserve that innocence in her…even align himself with Nova Moretti.

“Yeah, okay.” Wyatt spoke to Tabitha rather than Nova. “We might as well tell him and hear what he’s got to say.”

Nova’s scowl grew deeper the more Wyatt and Tabitha explained.

Tabitha watched the story turn his handsome face and easy smile into something dark and menacing. It was hard initially to believe the young man who had been so determined at the hospital to make sure his family was well cared for could also be involved in the mafia, but now she saw it.

She thought there was darkness in Wyatt, but it wasn’t born of the same sinister anger like Nova’s. He cursed in Italian when Tabitha told him about Vaughn drugging and raping her, but in the next breath he reached across the table and squeezed Tabitha’s hand.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered as he studied her, his dark gaze swirling with concern. “Is that why you moved to New York?”

“Yes. I didn’t want Wyatt to find out.” Tabitha didn’t break out of his hold, but she did frown at him. “How did you know I was in New York?”

“I read it in your bio.” Nova took a sip of tea, grimacing over it, but that was all they had to offer him. “You don’t have any coffee?”

“No, sorry.” Tabitha shook her head. “I threw it away.”

“Oh Jesus,” Wyatt said with a snort of laughter.

“I don’t have a detailed bio, Nova.” Tabitha continued to study him. There was just something about his face that she liked, even with the dangerous scowl. “I’m a very private author.”

“Did you have any money when you first got there? You said you were twenty-one when you left. That’d be ninety-nine. Your first book didn’t come out until almost three years later. What’d you do for cash back then?” Nova asked, as if it were pertinent to the story.

“I had a job at a bakery on Thirty-Seventh.”

“Rubio’s. I know that bakery.” Nova nodded. “They don’t pay very well. You must have been struggling financially.”

“Did we meet there?” Tabitha asked, because now that he had opened the floodgates about his memory, she could see how easily he could pull up random facts. “You asked me if I remembered you in the hospital.”

“Yeah, Tabitha, we’ve met before.” His smile turned warm once more. “But I can understand why you wouldn’t remember me.”

“Why?”

“I was twelve.”

“Oh, I guess you would’ve been. God, that makes me feel old.” Tabitha winced at Wyatt before she turned back to Nova, now beyond curious. “What happened?”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said with a grin. “Tell me the rest. What happened when you got back?”

They told him the rest of the story. After Wyatt had explained the details of the shooting, Nova just pushed his empty plate aside and dropped his head to the table. He folded his hands together behind his neck as if deep in thought.

“This is a huge friggin’ problem, Conner,” he mumbled against the wood. “There are a lot of loose ends there. If you hadn’t done what you did when you were younger, we could get you off on technicalities, but with that—”

“I know.” Wyatt shook his head. “I’m not just losing my job; I’m to going to jail. Vaughn had every right to fear for his safety. Pulling a gun on me was self-defense. I had very real motivation to kill him.”

“Why the fuck didn’t you shoot him a second time? Just kill him and then make the call to dispatch. It would’ve solved your problem. Dead men don’t tell tales. A sheriff’s word would’ve been more than good enough. Now you got him alive and likely to run his mouth.”

“That’s great advice now. Thanks,” Wyatt said sarcastically. “I know I should’ve killed him. I’ve thought ’bout it myself, but at the time I was in cop mode. Maybe when I was younger, I would’ve done it, but I’ve been sheriff for a long time. It’s sorta ingrained.”

“Friggin’ hick integrity.” Nova was still speaking with his face pressed against the table. “You said there was a witness to the first incident. What’s his name?”

“Jason Wiltkins.”

“And Tabitha’s brother, Brett. He’s the only other person who knows about it?”

“Clay knows. Jules knows.”

“Okay.” Nova lifted his head and rubbed a hand over his face. “I really wish you had coffee. I got a headache.”

“Sorry,” Tabitha whispered, feeling guilty now that she’d thrown it away. She probably should’ve thought to keep some for company.

Nova pushed away from the table and stood. He paced and said something in Italian, as if speaking to himself.

“What’s that?” Wyatt leaned forward with a scowl. “You said Tino’s name in there? Did you tell him I was in trouble?”

“You think the DOJ can walk into the hospital and ask to speak with you, and it wouldn’t set off every paranoid sensor Tino has? He started hounding me for information the second we were alone. He knows you’re in trouble. They all do to an extent.”

“No one’s told Jules, have they?” Wyatt asked in horror.

“No, Jules and Romeo don’t know anything.” Nova shook his head. “They got enough to deal with right now.”

Wyatt sighed, looking appeased. “So that’s it. The loophole man doesn’t have an answer. I might as well just make the call and face the music.”

“I didn’t say that,” Nova argued. “It’s just more complicated than I anticipated.”

“More complicated?” Wyatt repeated in disbelief. “I’m fucked, Moretti. I know that. There’s no solution for this problem. I knew it when I let you sit at this table and start asking questions.”

“There’s always a solution.” Nova arched an eyebrow at him. “It’s just way outside your moral compass. I was hoping to avoid that.”

“No,” Wyatt growled. “No fucking way. I give your brother shit all the time about this mafia crap, and now you think I’m gonna go along with you killing someone in cold blood—”

“He raped your wife, Conner.” Nova’s scowl became dangerous once more. “Get over your ethical bullshit.”

“Get the fuck out of my house.” Wyatt pointed to the door.

“I’m not gonna shoot him,” Nova said rather than leave. “That’s not my style. Very sloppy. We don’t need this prick dead. We just need to make sure he doesn’t talk to the DOJ.”

“So what?” Wyatt let out an incredulous laugh. “You’re gonna make him an offer he can’t refuse?”

Nova quirked an eyebrow, but he didn’t say anything.

“Look, he’s an addict. He’s unstable,” Wyatt went on. “It’s not going to work, and getting yourself involved with this will just make things difficult for you and my sister. I can deal with the consequences of my actions. I want you to forget we had this conversation.”

“Yeah, but see—” Nova held up his hands and gave Wyatt a bitter smile. “I don’t forget things, and right now the only real issue is the statement you’re going to make to the DOJ. You’ve got a fuckload of loose ends, so let’s go over them.”

“Moretti—”

“What do you have to lose by having a foolproof statement? We’ll forget about the rest of it until later. Let’s just worry about your story.” Nova rubbed at the back of his neck again. “You were on the way to your sister’s house. She was in labor. You picked up Clay on the way. You took Harkin road rather than—”

“That’s way out of the way,” Wyatt argued.

“It doesn’t matter. So you went outta the way. You took the time to drive by the bar to make sure there were no drunk assholes out on the road. It was three o’clock. Last call. You were just double-checking to make sure your town was safe.”

“While my sister was bleeding out?” Wyatt arched an eyebrow at him. “No one’s gonna buy that.”

“She wasn’t in distress yet. She just had some pains, and you wanted to be there in case they needed to get to the hospital.”

Wyatt picked the DOJ card up off the table and tapped it against the wood as if considering it. “I guess that would make sense. I’ve been after drunk drivers for a few years now. Everyone knows it.”

“Perfect.” Nova looked pleased with that development. “You saw him swerving. You made the traffic stop. He pulled a gun. You shot him. That’s it. That’s what happened, Conner.”

“But that’s not what happened. He wasn’t swerving.”

“Yes, he was.” Nova raised his eyebrows. “He was all over the road. You had an obligation to pull him over. I saw his numbers while I was in the ICU. He was above the legal limit.”

“How’d you manage that?”

“Just hanging out at the nurses’ station.”

Wyatt grunted in shock. “You hit on the nurses to get his blood alcohol limits?”

“You highly underestimate me.” Nova pulled back at the insult. “He’s in ICU. Jules is too. So I spent a few hours talking to a couple of the nurses until I saw the numbers on the screen. I didn’t have to ask. That’s a loose end. We don’t like loose ends. Now tell me your story again.”

Tabitha looked to Wyatt, who seemed to be debating with himself before he shrugged as if he had nothing to lose. “I was on the way to my sister’s. I picked up my friend Clay.”

“Why’d you pick him up at three in the morning?” Nova barked, sounding like an investigator.

“He’s lived with us since me and Jules’s were teenagers. He’s like another brother to her. She wanted him there.”

“Okay, then why did you go by the bar?”

Wyatt flipped the card over in his hand, staring at it before he said, “I dunno; habit, I guess. It was on the way.”

“Not really,” Nova argued, his words still sharp as if he was looking for a lie. “It’s way outta the way.”

“Ever since I found that Johnson kid dead, I always drive by the bar if I can. I had time. She was just feeling a few pains.”

“Then why make the trip at all?”

“My brother-in-law’s been so stressed out. My sister’s been on bed rest. Clay and me figured we could give him a break if she had him up at three in the morning. Keep her company for a little while if it was just that false labor she’d been having for the past month.”

“And what happened then?”

“I stopped and took a few minutes to wait for the last of the patrons to leave the bar.”

“You weren’t on duty, Sheriff Conner. Why would you do that with your friend in your vehicle?”

Wyatt threw up his hands. “I probably shouldn’t have, but the truth is, I’m always on duty. This is my town. I never stop being sheriff.”

“Good.” Nova nodded, clearly pleased with that. “And when you saw Mr. Davis swerving and pulled him over, why didn’t you call in the stop?”

“I dunno.” Wyatt shook his head at that, clearly stumped on the question. “It should’ve been called in.”

“Your radio’s on the fritz. You tried, but it cut out, and you made the decision to make the stop anyway.”

“But my radio isn’t on the fritz,” Wyatt countered.

“It is when I get done with it. Now how long’s your radio been on the fritz?”

Wyatt seemed to think about the answer before he looked to Nova and offered, “I just noticed it Monday. I planned on getting it replaced when I went back to work on Thursday.”

“But you made the call to dispatch on the way to meet your sister at the hospital. How is that?”

“I don’t know.” Wyatt threw up his hands again. “I have no idea how I did that if it’s supposedly on the fritz.”

“It goes in and out.”

“It does?”

“Yes, it does.” Nova gave him another annoyed look before he started in again, “Why didn’t you take your police-issue weapon on the stop, Sheriff?”

Wyatt frowned again. “I dunno that either.”

“You’re a paranoid redneck, Conner. You have a concealed-weapons license, and you always pack heat when you’re off duty. You already had the .45 on you, and you were in a hurry. You left the 9 mm in the glove compartment. Clay didn’t know it was there, and he’s your best friend. You didn’t think about it too much.”

“I was packing a .45 on the way to see my laboring sister?” Wyatt laughed. “Have you seen a .45, Moretti? It ain’t exactly a casual weapon.”

“You love guns. Romeo told me you have a whole friggin’ gun safe full of them. They are one of the rare joys in your life, and your .45 is your favorite weapon. Keeping it on your person gets you off.”

“It was my favorite weapon.” Wyatt winced. “It was painful handing it over to Adam.”

“Why didn’t you take your police-issue weapon on the stop?” Nova asked again.

“I was in a hurry. I already had the .45 in the back of my jeans.”

“That’s a pretty big weapon to conceal in the back of your jeans.”

“I ain’t exactly a lightweight. I can hide a .45, and it’s my favorite weapon. I didn’t think anything ’bout it. I wasn’t expecting to shoot Mr. Davis. That was the last thing in the world I wanted. I was just trying to get a drunk off the road and get to my sister.”

“You’re getting good at this.” Nova smiled proudly. “I almost believed you. The key to this is to stay as close to the truth as possible. Don’t add anything. Just answer their questions in a calm, rational manner, because you have nothing to hide. You didn’t do anything wrong. He shot at you. You pulled your weapon and fired before you even realized you’d done it.”

“That ain’t a lie.” Wyatt sounded surprised. “How’d you know that?”

“’Cause if you’d planned on killing him, you could have, and no one would’ve questioned you about it. Not doing it has made your life a hell of a lot more difficult, but you have a strong moral code. You’d rather deal with the extra paperwork when that drunk starts screaming about you having a personal vendetta against him. All the drunks in your town think that because you’re a good sheriff and you do your job well.”

Tabitha smiled after his speech. Having spent most of the conversation just observing the exchange, she couldn’t help but say, “That’s all true.”

“I know.” Nova rolled his eyes in disgust. “Let’s start over from the top again. We’re gonna do this until you got it without hesitating.”

Tabitha sat at the table after Wyatt and Nova went outside to do whatever they were going to do to his police radio. She picked up the Department of Justice card Wyatt had left behind.

She stared at it, looking at the name and knowing this man held her whole world in his hands. He had seemed friendly enough at the hospital, when he thought he was just going to question a sheriff about a routine shooting, but what happened when Vaughn opened his mouth and started making claims that would force those nice investigators to dig into things that would ruin Wyatt?

How could someone be a dedicated public servant and a villain at the same time? It was strange. Though her family had always hated the law, Tabitha had unfailing faith in it. She believed in it as much as Wyatt did.

Now he was going to have to lie to save himself, something that went against everything that made Wyatt who he was. The black and white of good and evil continued to get more complicated the older they got. Tabitha had always believed that, and this was about as complex as it could get.

Somehow, the good guys were the bad guys now, and the bad guys—

Tabitha looked out the kitchen window, hearing Nova’s voice drift in from outside. His New York accent was extra thick before he cursed in Italian over whatever he was doing to the radio. She hoped the neighbors didn’t see, but she knew the back part of the driveway where Wyatt parked his SUV was hidden from prying eyes.

Nova wasn’t one to let something like that go. He was amazingly smart. It was a shame he had to be involved with the mafia. It made Tabitha sad, even if those skills he’d honed protecting his own were now benefiting her and Wyatt.

She closed her eyes, trying to imagine him at twelve.

Smart, sarcastic, with a strange loyalty that allowed him to break the rules to protect his family. He seemed so much older than twenty-five, with the weight of the world on his shoulders. She imagined he’d been the same at twelve as well.

Wyatt was pure hero, all light, with a sliver of darkness for the one person who’d been born to be his kryptonite, but Nova was the opposite, all darkness with a sliver of light. She tried to imagine the birth of the original antihero. Life made everyone who they were. Tabitha had seen it time and again. So what could have happened to turn someone so smart, with so much potential, into a person who could so flippantly talk about killing a man he didn’t know just because of a remote connection to his family?

Just like that the image popped in her head.

She saw a boy sitting on a stool in a bar waiting to play poker when he should have been out playing football instead. Feeling like Nova’s memory had rubbed off on her secondhand, she heard the bartender’s voice from the past.

“Lady, you don’t even know. Trouble is Nova Moretti’s middle name.”

She looked out the window as the tears welled in her eyes and rolled down her face. For a moment, she wished she didn’t remember. She wanted that boy to stay young in her mind. To stay hopeful. To keep on believing the solution was as easy as the next poker game. Even with a photographic memory, he’d obviously had the same innocence all children had before the cruel realities of life stole it from him.

Now it was gone.

How tragic.

Tabitha looked up when Nova came walking in through the back door with his hands dirty. She stared at his broad back as he went to the kitchen sink and started washing up.

“She died,” Tabitha whispered.

Nova turned around, frowning at her. “What?”

“Your mother.” Her voice cracked with emotion as she looked at him and saw that young boy for the first time. “She didn’t make it.”

Nova paused, giving her a long look as the water still ran in the sink. Then he turned around and shut it off. He stood with his back to her for a long time before he said, “No, she didn’t.”

“I’m so sorry.” She looked at the card in her hand again, hating that she and Wyatt were going to benefit from Nova’s pain. “Life is very unfair, Nova. I wish I could change it for you.”

“I wish you could too.” Nova turned around and folded his arms over his chest as he looked at her. “My ma had a kind heart. She loved everyone, even the people she shouldn’t.”

“Why are you doing this?” she asked him softly. “Wyatt thinks it’s for Jules, but—”

Nova shrugged. “I have so many things shoved inside my head. Most of it’s useless. It just makes me tired, but every once in a while something happens that makes me glad I can remember it. You were a good memory. That’s it.”

“All this for a good memory? For something that happened so long ago?” She couldn’t help but laugh past her tears. “That’s a lot to risk.”

“I don’t have that many good memories, Tabitha,” Nova whispered with a shake of his head. “So I protect the good ones, even if I gotta make a fuckload of bad ones in the process. Most people don’t get it.”

“I get it.” Tabitha looked out the window, thinking of Wyatt again. “I get it perfectly.”

“Yeah, I thought you might.” Nova sighed, looking at her sadly. “That’s too bad. Getting it means you haven’t had that many good ones either, and I’m genuinely sorry about that. You’re one of the few people in this world who deserves good memories.”

“I’ve had a few.” She smiled, her thoughts still on Wyatt.

Nova shook his head as he laughed. “I like you, Tabitha. You’re cool.”

“I like you too,” she said as she turned back to him. “I know Wyatt won’t say it, but thank you for helping us.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Nova looked away, as though he was uncomfortable with the gratitude. “I’m killing two birds with this stone. I owed Conner a favor too.”

Chapter Thirty-Five

“We should have you off administrative leave in another three or four days.”

Wyatt nodded as he looked at the two investigators sitting on the other side of his desk in the sheriff’s office. “That works.”

“We’re rushing the paperwork. We already got a statement from Mr. Davis. It all looks good. Thanksgiving’s holding it up a little, but you’ll be back to work a day or two after.”

“Nice of you to rush the paperwork. I appreciate it.” Wyatt reached over and moved some files to the corner of his desk that he hadn’t sat behind for almost a week.

“Well, we understand it’s a difficult situation with you being sheriff and all. It was a justified shooting. We need to get ya back to work. I mean, who the hell’s running the place, right?”

Wyatt looked out his office window, seeing that Adam was doing a very poor job of pretending to work as he cast furtive glances in their direction. “I think Deputy Hayes has being doing a good job. Maybe he’ll be sheriff one day.”

“Planning on stepping down?”

Wyatt laughed and raised his eyebrows when he considered how close he came to doing just that. “Nah, I think I got a few more good years in me.”

“Hayes said you’re a sixth-generation sheriff. That’s something.”

“Yeah.” Wyatt nodded as he looked back, seeing the pictures of his father and grandfather on the bookshelf, along with three other men he’d never known, but shared the same name and title with. “It’s something, all right.”

“Maybe one day soon you’ll make a seventh generation.”

“Maybe.” Wyatt smiled, thinking of his sister’s new sons and how his and Jules’s lives tended to mirror each other whether they wanted them to or not. “It’s entirely possible.”

Both of the investigators stood, and Wyatt pushed back from the desk and then shook both their hands. The one who had been concerned over Jules when they were back in the hospital reached out and patted Wyatt’s back. “Enjoy the last few days of leave and spend time with your new nephews.”

“I will, thanks.” Wyatt walked to his office door and opened it. “They’re coming home with my sister from the hospital tonight so they’ll be settled for Thanksgiving. It’s good.”

“Great news. Sorry that boy had to go and make an already stressful situation worse. Bad timing, but I’m glad it’s all working out okay.”

“Me too.” Wyatt had to stop himself from laughing in disbelief at how easy this was. “I’ll walk y’all out.”

Wyatt walked the investigators out and then went back to his office. He sat down at the desk he wasn’t supposed to be at until he was cleared for duty again. Any shooting, justified or not, earned a cop paid administrative leave until the investigation was finished.

Shooting Vaughn Davis should’ve ruined his life.

Instead it earned him a vacation.

He touched his desk, wondering what in the hell Nova Moretti said to Vaughn to make him so agreeable. Wyatt was sure he didn’t want to know. He’d asked, of course, when he found out Vaughn wasn’t pressing charges, because there was no way he believed that asshole came to that decision all on his own.

But Nova had looked him in the face and flat-out denied it.

Anyone who could teach Wyatt to lie in one afternoon, when he’d been terrible at it his entire life, was good at sticking to his story. No matter how many questions Wyatt barked at him, Nova just stared at him, unflinching, and denied any involvement besides helping him keep his story straight.

Nova was very good at what he did.

But he wasn’t a bad person. He was actually a really good person life put in a bad situation. It seemed very unfair that Wyatt’s mistakes were staining Nova Moretti’s soul worse than it already was.

He was still contemplating it when Adam walked in and shut the door louder than necessary. The thump of something falling off the bookshelf had Wyatt glancing back, but then Adam spoke.

“Did they tell ya when you’re coming back?”

“Few more days.” Wyatt turned back to Adam. “Sorry this stuck ya with so much extra work.”

“I’m just glad it’s all getting done.” Adam fell down into the one of the seats the investigators vacated. “How come you didn’t say anything ’bout your radio being broke that Monday?”

Wyatt gave him a hard look. “You’re part of the investigation, Adam. You’re not supposed to be talking ’bout it with me.”

“Shoot, Sheriff.” Adam shook his head. “It was a justified shooting. That boy is completely strung out. We’ve known it for a long time now. Why do you have to be so technical with everything?”

“I guess it’s just bred in me.” Wyatt stood up and grabbed his jacket off the coat hanger in the corner. “I’m gonna go home to my wife and enjoy the last of my paid leave.”

“Sounds good.” Adam nodded. “We got it here. Have a good holiday.”

Wyatt put on his jacket, noting the picture on the floor. He walked over and picked it up, finding his father’s face looking back at him. It should’ve felt ominous. Like a warning or a reprimand for the mistakes he’d made.

Instead, he stared at it and felt something very different. This was a man who’d spent most of his life without a partner, pining for the one he’d lost. For so long now Wyatt thought he’d inherited more than his father’s high blood pressure. He’d followed in his footsteps for a lot of years.

Now he had a second chance.

He put the picture back on the bookshelf, letting go of his father’s legacy of loneliness. Life had taught Wyatt nothing if not the value of making sacrifices worth it.

He decided he owed it to Nova to let it all go.

“I guess I’ll wish you Happy Thanksgiving a day early.” Wyatt patted Adam’s shoulder. “Sorry you’re stuck working it this year.”

“You’ve worked it every year for the past six years. I can take a turn.”

“Well, I surely appreciate it.” Wyatt opened his office door once more. “Tell Kesha thank you.”

“Say hi to Jules for us. Tell her we wanna see those babies as soon as she’s up and moving.” Adam walked with him to the front doors of the sheriff’s office. “And say hi to Tabitha too. You know, Sheriff, I reckoned I ain’t ever told you congratulations ’bout that. That was something. Her coming back. All these years I’ve been working here, I didn’t even know you were married.”

Wyatt snorted. “Don’t take it personal. Most folks didn’t.”

“Why’d she leave?” Adam winced as he said it. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

“I made a mistake. I let her go.” Wyatt held up his hands and gave him a sad smile. “Now I reckon I got the rest of our lives to make it up to her. It’s more than other Conners got.”

“You got three more days of paid leave.” Adam gestured to Wyatt’s SUV in the parking lot. “Best get started.”

“Yeah, I think I’ll do that.” Wyatt left Adam standing in the sheriff’s office. “See ya after the holiday.”

“He just left. For no dang reason. Just packed up and left. Good-for-nothing bastard. After all I’ve done for him.”

Tabitha arched her eyebrow as she sat at the kitchen table in the old Conner house and listened to her mother sob. The old Tabitha would’ve felt bad to hear her mother so distraught. The new Tabitha just pointed out, “I doubt you were crying like this when I packed up and left.”

“Yeah, but you weren’t like us,” she growled. “You never understood me like he did.”

“No, Mama, I didn’t,” Tabitha agreed. “Not at all.”

“Now I’m all alone. I got no one.” She let out a sob of misery. “Ain’t ya at least coming over for Thanksgiving?”

“No, I’m not. I’m going to Jules’s house for Thanksgiving.”

“I can’t believe you went and married into that family.” Her mother’s voice was slurred with drunken indignation despite the recent heart surgery Tabitha had paid for. “Those Conners think they’re better than everyone. You think you’re better than everyone too, but I don’t need you or your money. I can be alone. I don’t need anyone.”

“I have to go now.” Tabitha looked up when Wyatt walked in through the back door. “I have things to do.”

“What things?”

“Important things.”

“And I suppose I ain’t important?”

“No, you’re not,” Tabitha said as she looked at Wyatt, who stood in the kitchen pulling off his coat. “I have a life now, Mama, and it doesn’t include you anymore. I’m spending Thanksgiving with my real family.”

Her mother huffed on the other line. “Well, I don’t need you either.”

Tabitha flinched when her mother hung up. She looked at her cell phone until the screen went dark. Then she set it down, surprised at just how little she felt over the entire exchange. Which, she was pretty sure, meant she was getting better.

She knew it wasn’t the last time she was going to talk to her mother.

But it was the last time she was going to let herself be hurt and controlled by her. If her mama died alone, Tabitha supposed that was her own fault, because she wasn’t sacrificing herself for that woman anymore.

“That was awesome, Tab,” Wyatt said with a laugh of disbelief. “I think that just made my life. What was wrong with her, anyhow?”

“Brett left.” Tabitha lifted her head and gave Wyatt a smile. “He just packed up and left town. Left the whole dang state. He told her he was moving to California.”

“That’s—” Wyatt started as he raised his eyebrows. “Not really all that shocking. I’m pretty sure we know who to thank for that.”

“Yeah.” Tabitha smiled as she glanced to her laptop, staring at the book she was working on. “How’d the last of the questioning go?”

Wyatt held up his hands. “Looks like I’m back to work after the holiday.”

Tabitha looked at her phone again, shocked at what this all meant.

“Are we okay?” she asked in awe. “Are we actually gonna be okay?”

“Yeah, I think we actually are.” Wyatt sounded dazed over it too. “I mean, Vaughn is looking at thirty years easy. Shooting at a sheriff. He was over the legal limit, and he had crack cocaine in his system while he was on probation. That boy will die in prison for sure.”

“What did Nova say to him to make that the better option?” Tabitha asked in amazement. “What did he say to my brother? He was living for free in that house. Now he’s gonna go off to California? He might have to get an actual job. I can’t even imagine him doing that.”

“Tab—” Wyatt shook his head. “I don’t think either of us are ever gonna find out what Nova said to them, and maybe it’s better that we don’t.”

“Yeah?” Tabitha was surprised. Wyatt wasn’t one to let things go. “How come?”

“’Cause I think, whatever it is he did, it bought me a happy ending with my girl.” Wyatt smiled. “And I really wanted one.”

Tabitha pushed away from the table and stood. Wyatt met her halfway and wrapped his arms around her. He laid his cheek against the top of her head and whispered, “I love you, Tabby Cat.”

She hugged him back and whispered, “I love you too.”

Three weeks after Vaughn Davis was released on bail pending his trial, he was found dead in his trailer. Wyatt had to apologize to Adam for being the one forced to go on the call. Wyatt couldn’t do it. He still had too much of a conflict of interest, or he would have. Finding a body eight days gone was never a pleasant experience for a cop. He tried to spare his deputies as much as he could, but this one was out of his hands.

Wyatt expected a gunshot wound.

What they got was a heroin overdose. Vaughn had been a known addict for most of his life. No one questioned it—except Wyatt.

He questioned it again when Tabitha’s brother turned up dead six months later of a similar overdose.

Nova hadn’t been in Garnet when Vaughn died.

He hadn’t been in California when Brett died.

Yet Wyatt knew he’d been the one to pull the trigger.

A nice, neat trigger without any loose ends, but a trigger nonetheless.

Wyatt let it go rather than investigate it.

Tabitha told him the story about the hundred-dollar bill she’d given Nova in the bar when he was twelve.

It was a lot of money to her at the time.

But it was still a pretty good price for a happy ending.