Part 6
\nBy noon the rain had stopped, but Millbrook still looked drowned.
\nClouds hung low over town like dirty wool.
\nWater pooled in the cracked edges of parking lots and along the curbs downtown where old brick storefronts reflected in broken little ripples.
\nI left Drew sleeping and drove straight to Coach Garza\u2019s house.
\nIf the school and Sheriff\u2019s Department were already stripping his office, then whatever he knew was either dangerous or embarrassing enough to bury quickly.
\nMaybe both.
\nGarza lived on the west edge of town in a faded ranch house with a detached garage and a sagging basketball hoop over the driveway.
\nThe yard needed mowing.
\nA wind chime knocked softly against the porch rail every few seconds.
\nWhen I knocked, no one answered.
\nI knocked again.
\nStill nothing.
\nThen I noticed the mailbox overflowing with newspapers and circulars damp from the rain.
\nNobody had been home for at least two days.
\nI stepped off the porch slowly, scanning the property.
\nThat old instinct again.
\nLook for what doesn\u2019t fit.
\nThe garage door was cracked open maybe six inches.
\nNot enough for a car.
\nEnough for carelessness.
\nOr interruption.
\nI crouched and lifted it slowly.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
The smell hit first.
\nOil.
\nDust.
\nAnd copper.
\nBlood.
\nCoach Garza sat slumped against a workbench in the back corner.
\nFor one split second my brain tried to reject what my eyes were seeing.
\nThen training took over.
\nI crossed the garage fast.
\nGarza\u2019s face was swollen badly along one side.
\nDried blood darkened his collar.
\nHis left arm bent wrong halfway between elbow and wrist.
\nBut he was breathing.
\nBarely.
\nHis eyes opened halfway when I knelt beside him.
\nConfusion first.
\nThen recognition.
\n\u201cWade?\u201d he rasped.
\n\u201cI\u2019m calling an ambulance.\u201d
\nHis hand shot out weakly and grabbed my sleeve.
\n\u201cNo cops.\u201d
\n\u201cYou need a hospital.\u201d
\n\u201cNo cops.\u201d
\nThe force behind it surprised me.
\nEven broken nearly in half, the man meant it.
\nI looked around quickly.
\nNo signs of robbery.
\nNothing overturned except a metal stool near the workbench.
\nThis wasn\u2019t random violence.
\nSomebody came here looking for something.
\nOr sending another message.
\n\u201cWho did this?\u201d I asked quietly.
\nGarza\u2019s eyes moved toward the open garage door before returning to me.
\nFear.
\nReal fear.
\n\u201cThey know,\u201d he whispered.
\n\u201cKnow what?\u201d
\nHe swallowed painfully.
\n\u201cThe shipments.\u201d
\nMy pulse slowed instead of sped up.
\nDanger sharpens details.
\n\u201cWhat shipments?\u201d
\nGarza tried to sit up and failed.
\nI helped steady him carefully.
\nHis breath shuddered once.
\n\u201cPainkillers,\u201d he said.
\n\u201cSteroids.
\nSome fentanyl mixed in lately.\u201d
\nCold settled into my stomach.
\nHigh school kids dealing fentanyl.
\nThat changes the stakes instantly.
\nGarza kept talking in broken little pieces.
\n\u201cStarted small two years ago.
\nWrestlers first.
\nFootball boys too.
\nThen pills started moving through parties.\u201d
\n\u201cWho\u2019s supplying?\u201d
\nHe laughed weakly and instantly regretted it.
\nPain twisted his face.
\n\u201cYou think teenagers build distribution networks?\u201d
\nThat answered enough by itself.
\nAdults.
\nOrganized.
\nProtected.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
I glanced toward the driveway.
\nStill empty.
\nStill quiet except for the wind chime.
\n\u201cWho\u2019s involved?\u201d
\nGarza looked at me a long moment before speaking again.
\n\u201cDeputy Harris.\u201d
\nThere it was.
\nSpoken out loud now.
\nNot suspicion anymore.
\nFact.
\n\u201cHe uses confiscated evidence,\u201d Garza whispered.
\n\u201cStuff disappears before processing.
\nBarrett\u2019s dealerships move product between counties.
\nKids distribute at school.\u201d
\nJesus Christ.
\nMillbrook wasn\u2019t covering up a bullying problem.
\nIt was covering a pipeline.
\n\u201cWhat about Coach Steel?\u201d
\nGarza shut his eyes briefly.
\n\u201cHe knows enough to stay useful.\u201d
\n\u201cAnd Drew?\u201d
\nGarza\u2019s face tightened.
\n\u201cHe asked too many questions.\u201d
\nI sat back slowly on my heels.
\nNot because I was shocked.
\nBecause the pieces finally locked together completely.
\nDrew hears wrestlers talking.
\nGarza starts investigating.
\nSomeone suspects Drew may know more than he does.
\nSteel isolates him after practice.
\nSix boys pressure him in the parking lot while Harris supervises.
\nNot random.
\nNot emotional.
\nContainment.
\nGarza gripped my sleeve again.
\n\u201cThey came here last night,\u201d he whispered.
\n\u201cHarris and two others.
\nWanted my records.\u201d
\n\u201cDid they get them?\u201d
\nA tiny smile touched the corner of his swollen mouth.
\n\u201cNo.\u201d
\n\u201cWhere are they?\u201d
\nHe looked toward an old green tackle box sitting beneath the workbench.
\nI opened it carefully.
\nInside were folders.
\nFlash drives.
\nA spiral notebook.
\nAnd photographs.
\nLots of photographs.
\nTeenage boys exchanging pills behind the gym.
\nLicense plates.
\nCash handoffs.
\nOne picture showed Deputy Harris standing beside Ricky Barrett\u2019s truck at night near the county fairgrounds.
\nAnother showed Coach Steel talking to two men outside Barrett Auto Group after midnight.
\nTimestamped.
\nDocumented.
\nGarza hadn\u2019t just suspected something.
\nHe\u2019d been building a case.
\n\u201cYou were going to expose them.\u201d
\nGarza looked exhausted now.
\n\u201cI tried taking it to Thornton first.\u201d
\nThat hit harder than expected.
\n\u201cAnd?\u201d
\n\u201cShe told Harris.\u201d
\nOf course she did.
\nEvery layer connected upward instead of downward.
\nSmall town corruption rarely looks dramatic from the outside.
\nMostly it looks like football sponsorships, campaign donations, and adults deciding certain boys deserve protection more than certain truths deserve daylight.
\nA siren sounded faintly somewhere far off.
\nGarza heard it too and panicked instantly.
\n\u201cNo police.\u201d
\n\u201cIt\u2019s not police,\u201d I said automatically.
\nThen realized I didn\u2019t know that for sure.
\nI grabbed the tackle box.
\n\u201cCan you walk?\u201d
\n\u201cNo.\u201d
\n\u201cThen you\u2019re going to hate the next part.\u201d
\nI got him upright with one arm around his back.
\nHe cried out once through clenched teeth when his broken arm shifted.
\nWe made it halfway to my truck before two county cruisers turned onto the road.
\nToo fast.
\nToo direct.
\nNot coincidence.
\nSomeone had eyes on the house.
\n\u201cGet down,\u201d I snapped.
\nI shoved Garza behind the truck just as the cruisers swung into the driveway hard enough to spray gravel.
\nDeputy Harris stepped out first.
\nRain-dark uniform.
\nHand resting casually near his holster.
\nHis eyes found me immediately.
\nNo surprise there at all.
\nOnly irritation.
\n\u201cWell,\u201d he said calmly.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
\u201cThis is becoming a habit.\u201d
\nI stayed between him and Garza.
\n\u201cYou beat a schoolteacher half to death.\u201d
\nHarris shrugged once.
\n\u201cFunny thing about accusations.
\nPeople usually need proof.\u201d
\nI lifted the tackle box slightly.
\nFor the first time, his expression changed.
\nTiny.
\nBut real.
\n\u201cThere it is,\u201d I said quietly.
\nThe second deputy moved subtly to the side.
\nAngle for a better line.
\nNot procedure.
\nPositioning.
\nHarris smiled then, slow and humorless.
\n\u201cYou military boys always think evidence matters more than timing.\u201d
\nThe world narrowed again.
\nWind moving across wet grass.
\nGarza breathing ragged behind me.
\nTwo deputies in a driveway.
\nOne corrupt.
\nOne maybe scared enough to follow orders anyway.
\nAnd a tackle box full of material powerful men would kill to recover.
\nThen Harris said something that made the entire situation change shape.
\n\u201cYou know your son wasn\u2019t actually the target, right?\u201d
\nI felt every nerve in my body sharpen at once.
\nHarris tilted his head slightly.
\n\u201cWe thought Garza gave the files to Drew.\u201d
\nBehind me, Coach Garza whispered one broken word.
\n\u201cNo\u2026\u201d
\nBut it was already too late.
\nBecause the moment Harris said that sentence out loud, I realized something terrifying.
\nIf they believed Drew had the evidence, then the beating in the parking lot wasn\u2019t punishment.
\nIt was interrogation\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026<\/p>\n