Page 78 of Back On Ice

Sophie and I exchange a glance. Maybe the hockey fame will have an actual practical purpose for once.

“That’s a good sign, right?” Sophie asks quietly. “They didn’t just take the box and dismiss us. Maybe they already have a reason to be suspicious of him.”

“I think you’re right.” I smile down at her and kiss the top of her head. Having her here with me soothes something in my soul. Not having to bear the weight of this alone, like I’ve done for so many years, is like finally being able to breathe again. I hadn’t realized how much of a toll it was taking until now.

“Carter Williams?” A voice catches my attention, and I turn to see a man approaching us. He’s not wearing the standard officer blues, but is in a pair of dress slacks, a button up shirt with a tie, and a shoulder holster. He looks to be somewhere in his fifties, with fine lines around his eyes, and gray at the temples of his otherwise jet black hair.

“Yes, sir.” I nod, before holding out my hand.

“Detective Scott Peterson,” he gives my hand a firm shake before releasing it and holding it out to Sophie, “Miss…?”

“Sophie Hartwell,” Sophie says, shaking his hand as well.

“Of Hart’s Flowers!” he says with a smile that crinkles his eyes, “Your shop has definitely saved my ass once or twice when I needed flowers to apologize for working so much. And you two did some great work saving the rec center how you did.”

Sophie gives him a smile. “Thank you.”

He turns back to me. “I understand you have some information on your father? Let’s go to the back and have a chat. We can chat in one of the interview rooms for some privacy.” Detective Peterson leads us to one of the back rooms, set up with a small rectangular table and a few chairs. “Do you mind if I go through the files you brought?” he asks, gesturing to the box under my arm.

“Not at all.” I place the box on the table, and he rifles through the contents as Sophie and I get situated in the seats at the other side of the table. Her hand lands on my thigh, her thumb rubbing soothing circles on the side of my leg.

“This is…” Detective Peterson shakes his head, “This is exactly what we need.”

“For what, exactly?” I ask, my brows furrowed.

“To carry on with the case. I’ve been trying to nail down Jeremy Williams for years.” I shouldn’t be shocked, but some part of me is. I’d known my dad was into some shady shit, but to think that the police were actively trying to take him down… I wish I had known. Maybe I could have helped in some way. All the years he extorted me for money, all the threats against Mom… I swallow roughly.

“Do you remember the board member, Julian Davis?” The detective asks, looking between us.

“Oscar’s dad,” Sophie says quietly, nodding.

“He came to us around fifteen years ago with some proof against Jeremy for embezzlement of town funds. He covered his tracks so thoroughly, however, there wasn’t ever quite enoughproof to arrest him.” The detective runs a hand through his hair as if he’s reliving the infuriating days of knowing someone is guilty and not being able to do anything about it. “But then, he left the board and the town. For years, there was no further evidence, which in itself points to Jeremy being the one responsible. Then, Julian got his cancer diagnosis about five years ago and didn’t know how much time he had left, so he let me know that he told Michael Wixx to keep an eye on things and to tell me if saw anything suspicious. Michael was also on the board at the time and Julian felt he was the only one he could trust.”

Michael Wixx… that’s Abbie’s dad, and he’s still a board member. Sophie looks at me with wide eyes. I know what she’s thinking—that this goes so much deeper than either of us thought.

“Julian passed three years later, so I started working with Michael, and about ten months ago, Michael started finding discrepancies in the numbers again. Any time there would be votes on local tax changes and funds would start coming into the town accounts, bits and pieces were disappearing. The allocation amounts weren’t lining up. I, of course, had my suspicions. But with Jeremy Williams being gone for so many years, I knew someone else either took over what he started, or Williams was still involved somehow. My hunch told me it was Williams, so I followed it. I put out a call to the precincts in surrounding states, and it didn’t take long to get a call back. He’s been one state over this entire time. I don’t believe in coincidence, and if you ask me, that’s a damn good one.”

Holy shit. This… I’m not an expert on elected officials embezzling taxpayer dollars, but that would have to put him away for a long time, right?

“So… what that means now…” Detective Peterson looks between the two of us, tenting his fingers in front of him. “Thisinformation that you brought in is great. It’s enough to arrest him and have him face a trial. But it only covers what happened over ten years ago. What we need is to get proof of those involved now, and confirm that includes him. With Jeremy not being on the board for close to ten years, any new evidence won’t point directly to him.”

“He’s back in town… well, Willow Creek. Told me that if I give him five hundred thousand and half my yearly salary, he’ll leave Ivy Glen for good. He’s been extorting money from me for years, holding my mom’s safety over my head. I’ve only known about the abuse since I was in high school, but I know it’s been going on longer. Mentalandphysical. I’ll help you catch the fucker in whatever way I can.”

The detective’s eyes harden in a way that tells me exactly what he thinks of a man hitting his wife.

“Would she be willing to testify to that in court?” he asks, “I understand if it’s too hard, but we need whatever we can get to show his character and then we could possibly bring up separate charges of domestic abuse. We can also bring up charges for extortion. With all of this combined, we may be able to have him locked up for the rest of his sorry life.”

A few months ago, I wouldn’t have even asked Mom to stand before a room and relive her trauma. But after yesterday, seeing her resolve and newfound strength, I think she might want to. She deserves to have the world know just how much of a piece of shit he is. “I’ll ask her and let you know.”

“Good.” He nods. “Would you be willing to wear a wire? If you’re supposed to meet up with him to ‘hand over the money,’” he uses air quotes, “we could set up a sting and possibly get him talking. Maybe even get a confession. I would hate to arrest him for his crimes from over ten years ago alone, for a judge to throw out the case due to outdated paperwork and no proof beyond that.”

“Whatever you need.” My voice rings with conviction.

“Great.” He places the lid back on the box. “I’m going to come up with a plan and look at this evidence in more detail. I’ll give you a call in the next couple of days.”

“Looking forward to it.” We each shake his hand again before we leave the room, escorted out by another officer.

Iamlooking forward to it.

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