Page 51 of Inside Silence
“Wait, is that why he retired so abruptly? I did hear about that.”
“Yes, that would be why.”
“I’m surprised,” he states. “Don’t get me wrong, from what I’ve seen of him, Sanchuk is a Grade A prick, a bully, and a piss-poor cop. Never liked the guy. But he’s usually smarter than to shit where he eats. What made him lose his cool this time?”
I snort. He gives an accurate assessment of the man.
For both Nate’s sake and my own, I wasn’t going to broadcast any details, but I probably owe it to Warren since I dragged him out here and he should know what he’s in for.
“In a nutshell; Nate and I were an item fifteen or so years ago when Sanchuk decided to run him out of town under the threat of bogus burglary charges that wouldn’t just impact Nate, but his family as well.”
“And he left? Just like that?”
I guess it’s a fair reaction, but Warren doesn’t know Nate’s background. He didn’t grow up here and doesn’t understand, no matter how hard Nate worked on building a decent life, he was always struggling to overcome his bad rap with law enforcement. He had no reason to trust them. Not back then and—given what happened to him since he returned—I’m pretty sure that hasn’t changed much.
“Trust me, Nathan had his reasons,” I assure him. “Look, I can’t be a hundred-percent sure as to what prompted Sanchuk to assault him the first time, but I’m willing to bet he was hoping to intimidate Nate. Probably worried about his own hide if it ever came out what he did all those years ago.”
I have to duck for a low hanging branch and end up stumbling over the protruding root on the ground. Warren grabs my elbow to keep me from landing on my face.
“Thanks.”
“No problem. So I’m guessing you think Sanchuk is responsible for this latest attack as well?”
“I do. Nate remembers his attacker saying he should’ve stayed away. Sanchuk is the only one who makes sense.”
I catch Warren nodding.
“And you trust this Nate?” he asks, shooting me a sideways glance.
If he’d have asked me this question a few weeks ago, I’d have given him a resolute no, but after the attacks and getting the full background story from Nate, I have no doubts.
I’m about to answer him when he shushes me and stops, pointing up ahead. The flickering orange glow of a fire is visible through the trees slightly to our right.
“What’s the plan?” Warren whispers.
I’d hoped that if we found him here, he’d be inside, maybe asleep already. Having him sitting out by a campfire makes it tougher to approach without alerting him. At this point, I don’t trust him not to go for a gun and shoot blindly.
“We approach him from opposite sides and announce ourselves when we get close enough, or if he hears us. Make sure your body cam is on, and let me do the talking. Keep your weapon holstered unless he leaves us no choice.”
“I’ll take the woods,” Warren volunteers.
I give him a bit of a head start to work his way around before I continue making my way up the narrowing trail, watching where I put my feet to minimize noise.
I’m just easing around a slight bend in the path when I hear a rustle and then the distinct slice and click of a rifle cocking. Immediately my hand goes to the gun on my hip.
“Sheriff’s Department!” I call out as I draw my gun. “It’s Savvy, Jeff. I’m just here to talk.”
When there isn’t a warning shot, I walk out into the open and see Sanchuk standing next to a folding chair by a small campfire. He is holding the rifle I heard loosely by his side, and he’s glaring at me.
It’s not until I take a few steps closer I see Warren in the shadows behind him. He has his service weapon aimed at Sanchuk.
“Drop the gun, Jeff,” he tells him. “We just have a few questions.”
With an angry grunt, he drops his rifle, and when Warren quickly confiscates it, I clip my weapon back in its holster.
“Thought you were a damn bear,” Sanchuk slurs as he takes his seat. “What the hell are you doing here? Can’t a man drink in peace?”
It’s then I notice the half-empty bottle of booze next to the chair. Wonderful.
