“Jack…”
“Yes…”
“Listen to me. Walt knows something you don’t! He didn’t tell you yet because he was trying to get more information but please, you have to call him before you do anything.”
Suddenly, the music faded. Finally, she had his attention.
“What is that?”
“Call him and find out. I am not playing with you. I’m not about to let you go play vigilante, either, or end up in prison for the rest of your life!”
“You don’t know—”
“Stop it! Do you think Chad would approve of this?!”
“Don’t you dare.”
“Do you think he’d want you to go and shoot up every man in Fairbanks that you suspect is the one that took his life? And you’ve got Diesel in the damn truck, knowing he’ll tear apart anyone that even looks at you wrong! You have to stop this!”
“Chad is the master of Diesel, not me.” He chuckled—an eerie sound, the kind you hear when someone has gone completely crazy.
“If that’s true, don’t you think that Chad was just trying to protect you tonight? And also trying to help you find his killer? Why in the world would Chad want you behind bars or in the afterlife with him right now? What sense does that make, Jack? But that’s exactly what is going to happen if you don’t pull over and stop. You told me you loved me!”
“I do love you.”
“Then show me! Your friends said you’re finally smiling again. I met them at the recital. Please don’t mess everything we’ve built together up.”
“Kim, you don’t understand.”
“I understand. This isn’t about avenging Chad’s death anymore. This is about YOU and your ego, and if you care about me at all, you will call Walt and stop this!” She was bawling now, falling to the floor, desperate. She didn’t think he’d listen to her—he seemed too far gone.
“I love you more than life itself, Daffodil. You made me believe in love again.”
And with that, he hung up. Leaving her in a puddle of her own tears…
…Three hours later
Raury’s, ‘Devil’s Whisper,’ played from the radio, right before Jack turned off the engine, then emerged from his truck. Sheriff Sweeney’s house was all white, with a vibrant American flag on the front porch. A rug at the door read, ‘All Our Welcome.’ Jack found that rather ironic, considering how he’d been treated by the man the past few years. He rang the bell and glanced over at his truck, seeing Diesel sitting in the passenger’s seat, panting and staring at him. Soon, the front door opened, revealing Sheriff Christopher Sweeney in a long-sleeved white shirt, pajama pants, and a cup of coffee in his hand.
The man’s expression morphed from curious to annoyed.
“Jackson Currant? Good God. Why on Earth are you here at this hour?”
“Sorry to wake you, Sheriff, but I’ve been a victim of a crime. An attempted breaking and entering. Someone tried to rob me.”
The sheriff rubbed his eyes and shook his head.
“Well, I’m mighty sorry to hear about that, Jack, but I suggest you go file a police report, like everyone else who is a victim of a crime. There’s nothing I can do for you from home, anyway.” He moved to shut the door.
“Well see, Sheriff, I know you and I have had some rocky times as of late, and I just want to apologize.” Jackson lowered his head for a spell. “I didn’t mean for everything to blow up like this, but after Chad died, well, I kind of lost my mind.”
Sweeney narrowed his gaze, as if suspicious of what he was hearing.
“As a father yourself, I’m sure you can understand. At one point in time, you and I were friends. We even went fishing together, and I helped your family set up at one of the campsites back when our boys were kids,” Jack said. “Do ya mind? I’ve been driving a long time, my mind racing, thinking about everything, and I haven’t had a bite to eat and nothing to drink.”
Sweeney looked at him for a long while. Too long.
“I’m truly sorry, Sweeney,” he went on. “Now that I need your help, I’m humbling myself. I didn’t call the police because I knew they were tired of me, and rightfully so. They’d laugh me right off the phone. I’m coming to you, man to man, to apologize in person, in hopes that you can help me get this report written and hopefully find out who tried to break my door down. Chad is gone, and I accept that.” He shrugged. “I haven’t put up any more flyers, and the bulletin came down. What I can’t accept, though, is someone coming onto my property trying to shoot up the place. What if my fiancée was there tonight? I don’t want her to be in fear.”
“Uh huh… I see.”
“Everything has gotten out of control since the FBI got involved, Sweeney, and I want to clear my name.”