Page 105 of High Frequency

“You will be contacted by a lawyer in Billings in the next few days, who will have five thousand dollars and a document for you to sign. Once you place your signature, you will receive the money. And once that’s done, Jeff, I want you to lose my number.”

Ending that call feels pretty damn satisfying.

Next, I call the law office and set up a Zoom appointment for tomorrow morning to get the paperwork in order and transfer the money. My savings account is going to take a serious hit, leaving me little cushion, but I’ll build again. Orwewill.

My final call is to Junior Ewing.

“I was about to call you,” he starts. “How are you doing?”

“I’m good.”

“You home?”

“Yes, why?”

“Because I’m pulling up to the ranch now.”

Not much later I’m sitting on the porch of the ranch house again, this time joined by Jonas and a few of the guys, listening to the sheriff giving us an update on the case. Aspen is on my lap with a bite ring in her mouth, still working on those bottom two teeth to come through.

“What are the fucking odds two sick bastards with the same violently perverse fantasies randomly meet doing something innocuous like playing baseball?” JD, who is leaning against one of the posts, questions.

“You’d be surprised. Maybe not playing baseball, but you have online interest groups for everything and anything under the sun. Many individuals don’t get further than fantasies, but put them in a group of like-minded perverts, and suddenly they feel powerful enough to act out on those fantasies,” Wolff supplies.

Ewing nods in agreement. “With Heany and Cedric, they each had a certain role to play. Even though it appears Heany was the brains of the operation, Cedric was the muscle responsible for kidnapping the girls. From what I understand, Cedric got off on the physical abuse of those girls, but for Heany the psychological torture was what motivated him. The control game. By his own admission, he never quite felt the same satisfaction after he’d killed Michael.”

“Did he ever explain why he killed him?” I probe, as Aspen starts to chew on my knuckle.

“His cousin. Shelby Vandermeer,” the sheriff states. “She was his obsession. He couldn’t have her, so he introduced her to Michael.”

“That way he could still control her,” I conclude. “So when he discovered Michael had been abusing her without his knowledge, it would’ve been the worst kind of betrayal.”

“Right. He could not handle the loss of control.”

A shiver runs down my spine when I think about how this all could’ve ended much differently.

When Ewing gets to his feet a few minutes later, I stand as well.

“Before you go, do you have a minute for me?”

“Sure.”

“I’ve got her,” Dan offers, plucking Aspen from my arms as he gives me an encouraging nod.

I haven’t had a chance to tell him what I’ve decided yet, but he makes it clear he’ll support whatever that might be.

I send him a grateful smile before following the sheriff down the steps.

Dan

“People are fucked up, man.”

Once again, I’m sitting on my new porch with Jackson, sipping a beer and downloading as we watch the sun go down.

Sloane is spending some time with her mother tonight, which she hasn’t done a whole lot of since Isobel got here. Her mother has decided to stick to her original plan to head back to Panama in four days. She indicated as much over dinner, citing she’d rather come back again in two months with her husband to celebrate Thanksgiving here.

It’ll be a big family gathering, too big for my dad’s place in Kalispell, but I’m thinking if I push hard we could do it right here.

I’ve just finished relaying what the sheriff’s visit revealed this afternoon, and Jackson reacts as expected.

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