Page 14 of Inside Silence
Jeff Sanchuk surges to his feet, kicking the chair back. Then he plants his fists on my desk and leans in. I ignore his attempt at intimidation and meet his furious glare.
“Like I said, up to you. But I suggest you think about it a minute, because the alternative is a straight dismissal for misconduct, and that could well impact your pension eligibility. I don’t know if you’ve checked the particulars of our pension plan, but it is subject to some strict rules. What I’m offering is a way for you to walk away with both your pension and your reputation—for what it’s worth—intact. I strongly suggest you consider your decision carefully. I’ll give you twenty-four hours.”
“I was doing this work when you were still in diapers,” he points out, barely suppressed anger lacing his voice as it raises in volume. “That chair should’ve been mine, and the only reason your ass is in it is because your daddy put it there. I took a bullet for your old man and this is how I’m repaid?”
He swipes at the container of pens on my desk, sending it flying against the wall. I quickly grab my laptop before that suffers the same fate. There’s no contingency fund in the department budget for a replacement.
“Everything all right in here?” my second-in-command sticks his head around the door.
Well timed, since the irate man was just making a move to come around the desk.
“It’s all good. Jeff was just leaving, weren’t you?”
The glare he throws me sends a chill down my back, but I don’t waver and hold his eyes until he finally huffs, turns on his heel, and stalks out of the room, aggressively brushing by Hugo. It’s not until he disappears out of sight I let myself relax.
“Are you okay?”
I force a smile for Hugo. “Yeah. I figured he wasn’t going to go quietly. Thanks for sticking around.”
“Not a problem. Carson had after-school practice anyway,” he explains, sitting down across my desk.
“How are things with him?”
He smiles and shakes his head. “Surprisingly good. We had a decent talk this weekend after bumping into Gaines and his daughter at the Bread & Butter and ending up sharing dinner with them.”
The mention of Nate piques my interest. He was back today to work on the repairs in the holding cells, I saw him in passing a few times, but other than saying hello, I haven’t had a chance to check in with him.
I’ve been too busy with the investigation into what almost certainly was the murder of Franklin Wyatt. His partner Jeremy arrived in town Saturday night and has been staying at The Carriage House, our local bed-and-breakfast, and I’ve been in regular contact with him, the state patrol’s forensic unit, and the medical examiner’s office. We’re still waiting for official confirmation, but I have no doubt Wyatt will turn out to be our victim.
But that doesn’t mean Nate Gaines hasn’t entered my thoughts a couple of times these past days, and I’ve been curious to find out how things are going with him. So Hugo’s mention of him has my attention.
“You had dinner with Nate?”
Hugo chuckles. “Yeah. I can’t for the life of me remember the guy, but he seemed to know who I was. Are you aware he’s actually a Silence native?”
I’d say so.
“I am.”
There must’ve been something in my voice that caught Hugo’s attention, and like the good investigator he is, he immediately follows it up with, “Did you know him from before?”
It’s not that it’s a secret, but I’d rather not have that old drama dragged up again. There’s been plenty of more recent drama in my life to keep the town gossips busy.
But Hugo is not only a colleague, he’s a friend. The last even more so since his wife’s death last year. Dealing with the loss of a spouse was something I could identify with.
“He’s an old boyfriend,” I admit. “It was a long time ago. He left town and I hadn’t seen him since.”
“I see.” He quietly studies me. “Is his return a problem for you?”
“No. Not at all,” I firmly state, convincing myself as much as him. “Like I said, a lifetime ago.”
It doesn’t matter memories of his strong, callused hand holding mine wherever we went, or the way his kisses used to make me feel, have begun to resurface. I dismiss them the moment they pop up. It is not a place I’ll ever go back to. A lifetime has passed between then and now, and I am not the same person. Nor is he, for that matter.
The ship has not only sailed, it was run to ground.
However, there is nothing saying he and I can’t be civil. Friendly, even. After all, like Hugo, Nate clearly has lost a loved one as well. Between the three of us, we could form a support group.
“What’s funny?” Hugo wants to know when I snicker at the concept.
