I hadn’t yet moved to Pelican Bay when Jimmy and his buddies had attacked and tortured a bear named Gentry that lived at an animal sanctuary run by two of Jimmy’s former high school classmates. My new deputy, Alex Miller, had told me all about what had happened that terrible night. Dallas Kent, the owner of the sanctuary, and his boyfriend, Nolan Grainger, had been enjoying a quiet evening together when Dallas’s wolf-hybrid, Loki, had sensed a disturbance. The men had discovered Gentry being attacked by three people in a small holding pen attached to the animal’s enclosure. The assailants had been using cattle prods and a pellet gun on the bear. The terrified animal had had no way of escaping or fighting back and had suffered significant injuries in the attack. Although Dallas and Nolan had both identified Jimmy as one of the attackers, the sheriff had refused to arrest the man, who also happened to be family.
Curtis Tulley, who’d been sheriff of Pelican Bay for more than twenty years, was Edith Sullivan’s cousin, which explained why Jimmy had seemingly gotten away with as much as he had. Alex had told me that not only was it rumored that Jimmy had a drug habit, but that he was known to be the town bully and often used his fists to get his way. But he’d never been arrested for anything until Dallas’s brother, Maddox, had arrived in town and dug up some long-buried secrets that had led to finding out the truth about Curtis Tulley and the reasons behind his personal vendetta against Dallas Kent, as well as proof that Jimmy had been behind the attack on Gentry.
Of course, Jimmy and his family were still denying everything, but a judge had determined there was enough evidence against Jimmy for an indictment. Jimmy had made bail and if he even made one wrong step, it would be revoked.
I’d make sure of that.
Problem was, my own hands were tied unless someone was willing to point the finger at Jimmy.
And if anyone had a reason to point a finger at the man, it was Ford.
Hence the reason I’d asked to speak to Ford alone this time around, rather than confront the family as a whole about the most recent noise complaint.
Ford was still standing behind the door as if trying to use it as some kind of shield against me. And I suspected why. It’d been more than a week since I’d last been to the Sullivan-Cornell home, so all of the old bruises should have faded.
But I couldn’t tell if they had because there were too many fresh ones.
Even with only half his face showing, I could see a cut along his temple, a bruise on his jaw, and another on his cheek. I could also see an older-looking bruise just below his ear. I could envision Jimmy’s long fingers pressed against the sensitive skin as he held Ford against the wall. Red lined my vision and it took everything in me to keep my breathing even as I repeated my request for him to come outside.
I could tell he didn’t want to comply, but he quickly dropped his eyes and did as I asked. He turned his body so I wouldn’t be able to see his face as he closed the door behind him. When he turned in my general direction, he kept his body angled away from me so I wouldn’t be able to see the left side of his face in particular. It made my gut drop out because I knew it had to be really bad.
And I also knew that it wouldn’t change things.
I told myself I should just order him to look at me, but the cop in me had decided to disappear into the background while the part of me that was allowed to feel and rage and hurt stepped forward.
Literally stepped forward.
Because before I could stop myself, that was what I was doing. I waited for my inner voice to warn me this was a bad idea, but the damn thing had gone obscenely quiet.
I knew I shouldn’t touch him. Not only could someone from inside the house be watching, but it was also against the rules. Since all the shit that had gone down in Detroit before I’d left, I’d been hypersensitive to not doing anything that could even be conceived as inappropriate, but with Ford, all those rules flew out the window. My fingers moved to his face of their own accord and then gently closed around his chin. He had a slight, neatly trimmed beard, so that was the first thing I felt.
And if I hadn’t been so focused on what I needed to do, I would have taken a moment to enjoy the sensation of the soft hairs beneath my fingertips.