First Surrender (Chance Encounters #3)

Chapter Five

Jackson

I ’ve been shot at four times in my career, hit in the vest once, and almost blown up by a bomb. But, when the woman six rows in front of me slowly turns her head 180 degrees to glare at me, I think it’s the closest to death that I’ve ever been.

If it were possible, she’d have flames rolling off her back. She’s pissed.

I knew the prosecutor would present the deal this afternoon and I knew that Natalie would likely have a problem with it, but I think I underestimated the power of her fury. The licks of it are reaching me all the way in the back row.

I wish I could say it scared me but it doesn’t. It’s worse, it intrigues the hell out of me. She’s been a question mark since I first saw her but then I saw down her coat to what she was hiding underneath and it turned into full-blown curiosity.

All I can see in my mind is the two silver piercings that stared at me from the valley between her breasts. Nothing has held my attention in months but that did. As if I don’t have bigger concerns in my life, I can’t stop thinking about her cleavage.

She storms up the aisle and to my row as the rest of the courtroom disperses. “You. You son of a bitch,” she lashes at me. More than a few heads turn in our direction, including my auxiliary deputy on the other side of the room. I wave him off.

“The prosecutor didn’t have a case, he was going to lose if this went to trial,” I attempt to appease her but I can see that it’s not working. The poison she possesses in her soul is leeching out, attempting to suffocate me.

Her shiny black heel plants itself closer to me but I stay seated. Despite her anger, I have no reason to stand. Towering over her wouldn’t benefit this situation, she can yell all she wants.

“That man murdered my mom. He did it on purpose and now he’s getting a free pass. Do you even realize what you’ve done?” She seethes her venom at me but her eyes are filled with something deeper than anger.

There’s fear in their dark depths.

My gut sinks with the realization. Prosecutor Fulton warned me that she’d be opposed to any type of deal but I stood my ground because I felt it was our best chance of getting more information, even if it meant he got off with lesser charges. I’m only doing my job but if I could do it properly then I wouldn’t need Declan as an informant in the first place.

Now, I can see the thought of him being released is frightening her in some way. And, that bothers me.

“You can be mad at me all you want. Other people helped make this decision. We need to close cases. It’s the way it goes sometimes.” I shrug, trying to portray the indifference that I’m not actually feeling, but it only pisses her off more.

“If that man gets out of jail and tries to get custody of my brother, I’m going to make your life hell, you heartless piece of shit!”

I clench my jaw to stop myself from reacting. She knows how to hit below the belt, I’ll give her that. Before I can attempt another shot at making this right, she blows out of the room like a tornado, full of fury and chaos.

Maybe she’s the karma that I deserve for being rude to Whitney. Getting metaphorically kicked in the balls by a woman is way worse than any punch from a grown man.

* * *

“You understand that by accepting this deal, you agree to give me useful information, correct? If you refuse to do so, the deal is forfeit and you’ll be fighting a maximum sentence.” Declan Randolph is sitting across from me in a striped jumpsuit in the meeting room of the Rollins County Jail.

“I understand, yadda, yadda,” he drones. This guy is a real piece of work.

“Where did you get the drugs?” I ask the question that has been bugging me since I learned of Declan’s case. If someone is supplying deadly substances to people in my county then I need to know who and how much they have.

“I don’t know.”

I take a breath before I respond. I’ve dealt with people worse than this, he is not going to be the one that makes me lose my cool. He’s not worth it.

“Declan, you have one chance. Is that the answer you’re going with?”

“The pills dropped from the sky. That’s my final answer.” He shrugs.

“You’re prepared to serve the maximum sentence for Aggravated Murder by not complying with the terms of the deal, correct?”

“Well, hold on now, Sheriff. I believe my lawyer said there isn’t a murder case.” He looks at me smugly. He has no interest in this deal, he’s wasting my time. He’s still planning to have all of his charges dropped one way or another, that’s the only explanation for the lack of self-preservation in this room right now.

The hair at his temples is balding and for being around my age, he looks much older. Despite trying to act indifferent to his circumstances, I can tell from his face that he’s tired. It’s exhausting to keep one eye open while you’re in jail, surrounded by people that you can’t trust. People that he’s probably wronged in the past.

“Tell me what you know or I walk out of here and you go to trial.” I fold my hands on the table as relaxed as I can. He’s not going to get the tension from me like he wants.

He huffs. “You’re lookin’ at me, but you should be lookin’ at bigger fish. I’m just a little fish.” He pinches his pointer finger and thumb together to accentuate his point.

“Obviously.” I know Declan isn’t my criminal mastermind just by looking at him.

“Ahh. Maybe you should ask me who gave me the drugs, not where they came from.”

This joker wants to play word games and I am in no mood. “Who gave you the drugs?”

“Oh, no. I can’t tell you that. That would get me killed.”

When I interrogated Thomas Jameson about his extremist group and the 5k bombing a couple of months ago, he had said the same thing. He couldn’t tell me who funded his operation because it would get him killed.

“Killed by who?” I ask, impatiently.

He tsks at me. “Get me released, now, and then I’ll tell you.” He winks.

“Do you know Thomas Jameson?” I ask, hoping that even the simplest thread to these dangerous crimes will lead me somewhere.

Jameson is in this same jail, only he’s awaiting to be transferred to prison because he’s already been convicted for his crimes. His case was incredibly cut and dry, unlike Declan’s.

He shrugs his bony shoulders and I can feel his ego rolling off him in waves.

“This is a small area Declan. Criminals run in the same circles. Everyone who lives here knows about the 5k bombing. Do you know anything related to the bombing?”

“I don’t mess with explosives, Sheriff. I’m hurt that you think I would.” He feigns offense but smirks.

I hate lifetime criminals like Declan. They have no moral code or sense of decency. They’re willing to hurt anyone without remorse.

I place a piece of paper down as a last attempt to get anything useful from him. It’s a compilation of photographs of our missing person cases but only those reported before he was arrested.

“Did you supply any of these people with drugs?”

He shrugs. “I don’t think I should answer a question like that, Sheriff. It seems like… Hmm… What would my lawyer call it? Ah, entrapment.” He eases the paper away from his side of the table with a single pointer finger.

“Information is what will get you out of jail, Declan. You haven’t given me anything. You’re going to rot in here.”

“We’ll see.” The tilt of his lips is eerily confident.

It takes all my reserve to stand up and exit the room without tossing my chair across the suffocating space. This was pointless. Every lead is turning inside out before I have a chance to make a real connection to anything.

I thought I was getting somewhere but Declan Randolph is useless, and I have no other direction to go.

Someone in this county is orchestrating a human trafficking ring, funding extremists, and orchestrating a drug trade. I need to figure out if it’s the same person and who the hell it is.

I don’t care what happens to Declan Randolph but now I’ve stuck my foot into innocent people’s lives. Natalie’s words haunt me, and the fear in her eyes is stuck at the forefront of my mind. I might have just assisted in letting a criminal back onto the streets and there is a kid involved.

I slam the door to my suburban as I get in. I don’t deserve the Sheriff tag branded on the body or any of the stripes. I thought I was equipped to handle this job but I’m failing every day that I don’t put someone in handcuffs for their crimes against innocent people.

My phone rings and Vanessa Porter’s name is on the screen so I hit ignore. I might as well have ‘Do Not Answer’ as her contact name since I always screen her calls. I’m not in the mood to hear about the old corrupt Sheriff’s ideas for Rollins County or his flippant wife’s fundraising ideas. The politics of this job are not important to me but I have to deal with people like her every day.

The first time I ever spoke to her, she swore her husband’s death was suspicious, that he’d never kill himself. She also swore that she didn’t know he was involved in any illegal activity and failed to mention that they were one stack of paperwork away from a divorce.

Unlucky for her, since his death was ruled a suicide she didn’t get to collect his life insurance. She also lost both of her brothers that day, both of which were menaces to society. I sympathize with her losses but I do not feel sorry that they’re dead.

I should call her back only to appease her, but not today. Today I’m going to drive around until someone needs me, hoping that the answers I need will fall out of the sky like Declan’s drugs.