Page 150 of Broken Wheels

“Yeah, right,” Josh said in a morose tone. “More likely that Spencer had people on the payroll that didn’t want to be looked at too closely.” He craned his neck to meet Dixon’s gaze. “You offered Chalmers a job here, right?”

“Yup. He helped us, and no way was I gonna leave him high and dry. He starts training next week, and he seems happy about it. Sam’s happy too, because he said that Chalmers got in too deep once before, and that was why Carson needed to pull him out. He didn’t give any details, but it sounded like a bad time. I’m hoping this will give him a chance to catch his breath.”

Josh smiled. “See, I told you the two of you would be best friends.”

Dixon hummed and brushed his fingers through Josh’s hair. “Well, he did help save your life. That qualifies him for friend status right there—probably.”

“Probably?”

“Hey, we need to see what kind of beer he brings to the poker game to know for sure if he’s upgraded to best friend or not.”

Josh jabbed him in the ribs with an elbow. “You like him, admit it.”

Dixon pushed out a grunt. “Yeah, I like him. He’s dealt with a lot, and this is the absolute least we can do for him.”

“What about Grady?”

Dixon sighed. “Now, that’s a whole other kettle of fish. He’s been named one of the special counsel for Spencer’s trial. Assuming they ever find the son of a bitch.” After Josh turned over the data dump Carson sent, they discovered lists of some of the people from both parties in all branches of government—local, state, and federal—who were beholden to Spencer. Each of them was being treated as an accomplice to murder, and they were pleading with the government to turn over evidence in order to keep them from spending a life behind bars.

Dixon frowned. “This whole thing exposed a very ugly side to politics in general.” He huffed. “Not that it needed the help.”

It had also shown the ugly part of humanity that Josh could have lived his whole life without knowing existed. He’d seen too many protests on television, spreading across the country, of people demanding that Spencer be exonerated, that it was Josh who’d done the deed, and that he should be punished for it. There were even mobs outside of CrossBow for a while shouting ugly, vile things, but they dispersed after a few days.

“Sure you don’t regret getting involved with me?” Josh was ashamed to admit he was fearful of what the answer would be.

“For someone so smart, you say awfully stupid things.” Dixon leaned over and kissed Josh’s neck. “I love you, I love our weird-as-fuck cat, and we will be happy. This I swear.”

Dixon’s words soothed the ache in Josh’s heart. He’d thought he’d lose everything, thanks to Spencer.

Dixon’s phone buzzed, and Josh’s initial instinct was to tell him not to look at it. His heart sank as he watched Dixon’s expression morph from contentment to shock.

“What’s happened?”

“Michael says to turn the TV on. News about Spencer.” He grabbed the remote and aimed it at the screen.

“—Spencer walked into the Santa Ana Police department and gave himself up. He told officers that he hadn’t realized he wasn’t allowed to travel.”

Dixon guffawed. “Yeah, right.”

Josh was too busy speculating why Spencer had surfaced now.

On the screen, Spencer was being escorted from the building, surrounded by a phalanx of FBI agents, cameras focused on him.

“Does he have his own legion of reporters that just follow him everywhere to capture every second?” Josh murmured. “Because I swear he’s never more than two feet from a report?—”

Crack.

Josh watched in fascination and horror as Spencer was slammed to the ground from behind, the blood spattering the feds assigned to protect him. He was covered by several men, while the others went in various directions, presumably to find the sniper. The cameras captured the mayhem that ensued.

“Someone had the same idea we did,” Dixon commented in a low voice. “Can’t say I’m sorry.”

“No, no, no. This can’t be happening,” Josh whispered, his throat tight.

“Doc, what’s wrong?”

He turned to Dixon. “You don’t get it. If he dies, I’ll be the most likely suspect.” He stared at the screen, watching for any sign that Spencer was still alive. The TV went dark, and Josh jerked his head in Dixon’s direction. “I was watching that.”

“I made an executive decision. That shit can wait.” Dixon locked gazes with him. “I mean it, Doc. You’ve been torturing yourself for weeks, and this isn’t helping.”

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