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Derrick nods and takes a morose sip of his tea. I don’t buy for a second that he’s grieving the D.A.’s death. Either this sorrow is completely performative, or he’s trying to mask his nerves with another emotion.
“He certainly has,” he says, a half-hearted acknowledgment of my point.
I let us sit in silence for a moment, giving him a chance to approach me, but he doesn’t. His hesitation to bring up our talk from last night is palpable. A bad sign. I decide to cut straight to the point.
“It would be best if neither of us had to worry about Speare’s collateral damage again, don’t you think? With your fine officers and prerogatives under the law and my inside information, I think we could make that problem go away forever.”
Derrick sets down his tea and weaves his fingers together in front of him. The picture of a politician getting ready to spin some bullshit. “Of course I agree with you, Mr. Warwick. We’ve done excellent work together over the years. Unfortunately, the optics of last night were bad, not just for Morgan Speare, but for me as well. I’ve been getting calls all morning from a number of last night’s guests asking why two mob bosses were invited to my banquet and allowed to stage a shootout.
“I made as many denials as I needed to, of course,” he adds quickly. As if he thinks that I think he’s stupid enough to out any of us for who we really are. “I explained that no invitation was presented to Mr. Speare, and that you were nothing more or less than an exceptional real estate investor who’s been a friend of my family for years. But people are looking at me now, and they’re questioning my office- which is very new, as we both know.”
“Yes,” I muse slowly, looking around at the room we’re all sitting in. “An office I bought for you, as we both know. I like what you’ve done with it.”
Derrick’s smile is a bit sheepish around the edges, but his blue eyes are sharp. “I understand that you’re here to collect on a debt, Mr. Warwick. Please know that I’m very aware of what I owe you, and I intend to pay it back in full. But collecting all the evidence and permissions required to raid legitimate businesses takes time, especially with all eyes on us.”
“You’d rather spend resources on maintaining the status quo than on altering it,” I say. “But that price is going to become higher and higher in the coming weeks. How long until you can no longer pay it? What will the last straw be for the voting public?”
“I’m not turning you down, Mr. Warwick,” Derrick insists. “I’m only saying that I need time to organize the kind of operation you’re suggesting-”
Ah yes, time. The thing I thought I had so much more of, until last night.
“As you keep reminding me, Sheriff, you’re new to this office,” I cut in. “So perhaps you aren’t fully aware of this. But the wheels of law spin as slowly or as quickly as you will them to.”
Derrick opens his mouth to argue, to excuse, to weave more bullshit, but I don’t let him speak. “A war started at your banquet, Mr. Lindman,” I cut in. “Aside from our beloved D.A., I lost one of my men, and Speare lost two of his. Where I come from, blood must be repaid with blood. We’re out of time as of twelve hours ago.”
There’s a pause as Derrick considers this very, very carefully. When he speaks again, I can tell by the way he shapes his words that he’s trying, one last time, to turn me down. “I understand the urgency of the situation. I’ve already put a warrant out for Mr. Speare’s arrest. For now, that’s the most I can do without drawing more suspicion- for now,” he adds, trying to placate me.
I tilt my head just a little. If I’m honest with myself, I admire Derrick Lindman. He’s one of very few men that I’ve worked with who can meet me on the same playing field and bring a solid game. I get the feeling he admires me for the same reason.
Derrick and I are different in a very fundamental way, though. He enjoys playing the game itself for the thrill of it. As for me, I don’t play at all unless I can guarantee that I’ll win.
After a momentary pause, I play my final piece.
“And if I make an official statement- as an exceptional real estate investor and family friend- demanding that the Sheriff’s office of this great city crack down on the infestation of organized crime that took the life of our beloved District Attorney?”
Derrick sits back in his chair, still smiling. He takes a long breath and lets it out in a rueful sigh. I’ve finally won him over. “Then I suppose I’d have no other choice but to rise to meet that challenge.”
“An admirable response, Sheriff,” I agree, and stand. Iris follows suit, but Derrick hesitates for a moment before also standing.
“Thank you for bringing your concerns to me, Mr. Warwick,” he says. “I appreciate your trust.”
He appreciates my money and my patience, but I smile pleasantly anyway. “Likewise, Sheriff.”
I don’t wait for him to guide us out.
CHAPTER 26
Thomas
When we get back to the estate, I skip another cup of coffee and go straight for the liquor cabinet in my office. I grab a bottle of my father’s whiskey- a drink I don’t usually prefer- and a crystal glass, and go back to my bedroom. Iris would dispute this, but I’m not prone to brooding. Tonight, however, my head is pounding, the bandage on my side needs to be changed, and I haven’t seen Clara in almost twenty-four hours.
Why that is part of the reason why my jaw feels so tense and my mood so black, I don’t want to examine.
My room is evening dark as I close myself inside it. Most of the light coming in is from Clara’s room across the courtyard. I avoid looking into it, focused on walking around my desk and pouring myself a glass of the whiskey. The first drink burns all the way down and leaves raw heat in its wake.
I stare down into the dark liquid left in the glass without really seeing it, thinking of my father. Thinking of his complacency and his failures. Did I push Clara so hard to help me fight against her uncle because of my lingering disappointment in him? Or was I focusing on her emotional hang ups in order to ignore mine?
This civil war with Morgan Speare has defined so much of my life and so many of my relationships that ending it doesn’t feel possible anymore. It’s a thought I’ve never voiced out loud and never will. I went through so many talks with Morgan to create this truce between our families, all to give the Warwick family the space to reorganize and crush him permanently.
