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“Like I get the alphabet, duh, we all do, right?”
“Right.”
“But…” he looked left and right as if he expected Solomon to jump out at him and laugh, and he was bright red. “Is the file for Olivia and David McBride under O for Olivia, D for David, M for McBride, or do we ignore the Mc part and put it under B for Bride?”
I couldn’t help but smile because a red-faced nephew who wasn’t buried in his phone and was talking to me was lovely. “M. It’s the last name and the entire last name.”
“Cool, but what about the file for that Owen-Long car theft thing? Is that O or L?” he asked, his curiosity genuine.
“Wait, you’re reading the cases?” I raised an eyebrow, more impressed than irritated.
“I’m learning,” he defended, standing a bit taller.
“And you signed all the health and safety paperwork and the confidentiality forms?”
“Yep.”
“And you know nothing you read leaves this office?” I added, making sure he understood the gravity of his responsibilities.
“Yes, sir,” Jason replied with a nod.
I couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm. “Good. It’s under O for Owen. Keep up the good work, Jason.”
He preened at the praise—and again, I smiled. Maybe having him around wouldn’t be so bad if he could remember the alphabetical filing system.
I headed into my office, picked up the donut, finished it in four bites, swallowed the lukewarm coffee, and headed back out. I glanced into the back office at Jason who was already back to filing with newfound determination.
“I’m going to take a drive out to Abraham’s place,” I advised Solomon as I passed and didn’t wait for him to add a comment.
As I pulled up to the small, weather-beaten house, the sun was dull in a leaden fall sky. The place had seen better days, and so had Abraham. He was sitting on his porch, staring at the ground, a picture of defeat.
“Hey, Abraham,” I called out as I got out of the car, checking around him for a weapon, aware of my surroundings, given the whole rifle-snatching incident with Connor.
He looked up, his eyes tired and filled with regret. “Sheriff,” he greeted me, his voice barely above a whisper.
I walked over and sat on the porch steps next to him. “Your brother’s worried about you. He said he hadn’t heard from you since last night.”
Abraham sighed, rubbing a hand over his stubbled face. “I don’t want to lay all of this on him.”
“That’s what families are for.”
“I know, but…” He sighed. “I’ve been an idiot, and he never wavered. Worse than that, Joe at the garage offered me a job.” He shook his head. “I’m ashamed. I lost my cool and chased my wife away. Everything’s a mess. What if I take this job, and it all goes wrong again, and then I never come back?”
“You drinking right now?”
He glanced at me; eyes wide. “No, sir.”
I leaned back, considering his words. “Then what if it goes right?” I countered.
He looked at me, searching for reassurance. “I don’t know. I’ve messed up so much.”
“Joe’s giving you a chance. Why not take it?”
He nodded slowly, the weight of his guilt and shame still heavy.
“Abe, you provided for your family for thirty years, your kids are grown, your marriage is strong,” I said, clapping him on the shoulder. “This is a blip, a minor hurdle. Take it one day at a time, yeah? You can’t fix everything overnight, but you can start moving in the right direction.”
He managed a small smile. “I appreciate it.”
