Page 101 of All Along The Watchtower

Every muscle in Ford’s body was tensed, ready to act, to defend. But he didn’t move other than to flick his eyes toward me in warning to let him handle this.

“Turn around slowly.” Miles murmured the order, as if he didn’t want to wake anyone still sleeping. Not that any of us were.

Oh God, Peyton! What if she heard something and came out of her room? If she startled him…

Ford did as he was told, hands raised.

Miles was desperate. Gone was the usually polished, golden boy who’d worked his way into local politics so he could leverage his position for the alleged betterment of Hatterwick and Sutter’s Ferry. In his place stood a man with disheveled hair and shadows under eyes that had seen far too much. Obviously, he was here for the evidence. It was about him, after all. The howsand whys of it didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was that gun and stopping him from using it.

We needed to buy time. For what, I had no idea. I had no fancy skills, no training in how to fight. All I had was years of experience behind the bar, listening to people. I knew how to get them to talk. So I’d get him to talk.

“What are you doing here?” Look at that. My voice only quavered a little bit.

The look of desperation on his face turned almost feral. “I’ve gone to an enormous amount of trouble to get that flash drive. You’re going to hand it over and forget everything you just saw.”

Or else what?But I didn’t voice the question. The last thing I wanted to do was antagonize him.

“I cannot imagine how difficult it has been for you.” I kept my voice sympathetic, the same tone I used with drunks who just needed to have their heartbreak validated so they wouldn’t get rowdy. “To hold on to this secret and have a piece of trash like Galef throw it in your face.” I watched Miles’ fingers tighten on the grip of the gun. “Because that’s what he did, right?”

Miles’ face twisted. “That little pissant.” Spittle flew from his lips. “My life has already been a living hell for the last thirteen years, and that little asshole thought he could get more by dangling that over my head.” His voice shook. “My family has suffered enough. I have suffered enough.”

Ford shifted beside me, and Miles jerked the gun toward him. “Don’t move.”

I pressed my hand against Ford’s arm, willing him to stay still.

His muscles vibrated with tension, just waiting for the chance to spring. But Miles was too on edge, too reckless. One wrong move and that gun would go off.

“Nobody would blame you,” I said softly. “Killing him was justified.”

Miles shook his head, the gun wavering. “I’m no cold-blooded murderer. It was an accident.” His voice cracked. “He threatened me. Said he was going to publicly release the videos.” He dragged a trembling hand down his face, the stubble along his jaw rasping against his palm. “I don’t even know how he got his hands on it. Apparently, it was hidden somewhere in O’Shea’s office.”

“How did it happen?” My heart pounded against my ribs as I watched those fingers flex on the butt of the gun.

“We got into a fight. I shoved him. He fell and cracked his head.” His eyes took on a haunted look. “The fall killed him. So I had to get rid of him.”

“It was self-defense,” I agreed, nodding. The words tasted like ash in my mouth, but I had to keep him talking, keep him from doing something worse. Keep buying time until… until what? What was the endgame here? Distracting him enough to give Ford an opening?

Ford remained statue-still beside me, but I could feel the tension radiating off him. One wrong move and this could all go sideways fast.

“Yes.” Miles’ voice was hoarse. “So, hand over the flash drive.”

“Okay.” Hands lifted, I edged slowly toward the laptop. But I couldn’t stop myself from asking the question that had been beating like frantic wings in my brain since I saw that last video. “Did you ever find out what happened to your sister?”

The gun trembled in his grip. Pain and grief twisted his features into something almost unrecognizable. “It’s my fault.” His voice cracked. “They took her and did God knows what with her. And it was my fault.”

The words seemed to pour out of him now, as if they were a tide he’d been holding back for years. “All this time I’ve had to live with that.” His gaze shifted to Ford, and something like reliefflickered across his face. “I’m really fucking glad that your kid didn’t suffer the same fate. These are really bad people.”

“Look—” I wondered if Miles could see the flutter of that muscle in Ford’s jaw that betrayed the calm, measured tone of his voice. “—if you take this to the police?—”

“No.” Miles’ face contorted. “No. I have a wife. I have children. My parents are still living.” He began to pace, the gun jerking with each agitated movement. “I managed to convince them to sell the marina. Thought that would get me out of this shit. But they just kept coming back, wanting more.” Sweat beaded on his brow as his words tumbled out faster. “You don’t understand. This is so much bigger than anything our tiny ass department can handle.”

I watched Ford’s hands slowly lower, though his body remained coiled and ready. “Then let us help you figure out another way.”

“There is no other way!” Miles’ voice cracked. “As long as that evidence exists, my family will never be safe. I won’t let anyone else I love get hurt because of my mistakes.”

The likelihood that this was the only copy of these videos seemed slim. But I wasn’t about to bring that up.

“What about the feds?” Ford’s voice remained steady.

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