I can’t ask Conrad anything, though, while he’s unconscious. So I make my case notes, and then I pay a visit to Phil.
I didn’t wait this long to check on his condition, of course. I’d visited April while Dalton got Brandon settled in the cell. Anders had been right about Phil’s brachial artery. It’d been nicked, by which I mean cut instead of severed, though I’m sure April would tell me I’m being semantically imprecise. Minor surgery had been required. Anders had assisted. Phil is fine and resting at Isabel’s. I visit him there and update him. He’s still groggy, and he’ll probably need Isabel to repeat my update later. As for Isabel, she’s doing as well as I’d expect, which means she’s quiet, very quiet. She takes in my retelling of Brandon’s confession and says little. I suspect it’ll be awhile before we have a full-time bartender at the Roc again.
The rest of the night passes without incident. Morning comes, and I’m at loose ends, waiting impatiently to wrap up this case. I need to talk to the council and tell them what Conrad did. I also need to tell them what Brandon did and have them decide what we should do about both.
In my mind, the case is closed, and yet I can’t officially close it until I talk to Conrad. Speak to him. Speak to the council. Speak to the town. Steps that must be completed in order, however much I want to just barrel through in the vain hope of getting back to normal life in Rockton.
It’s dinner hour when April finally determines that Conrad is waking. This doesn’t mean he’ll pop up, ready to talk. We don’t even know whether he’ll be in any mental condition to talk even when he’s fully awake.
I hover in the clinic until April kicks me out, and then Dalton and I eat dinner on her back steps as we await updates.
Here my sister shows her sadistic side. She doesn’t mean it, of course. Once upon a time, I’d have thought she did. I know better now.
When she leaves us on that back porch for two hours without a single update, it’s only because she has nothing to say. Telling us that would be a waste of time. We’re left to stew while playing with the dog, trying to distract ourselves, getting a wee bit crankier every time someone slinks behind the clinic to ask whether there’s any news.
The only person we don’t snap at is Anders. He’s trying to play this cool, but I know how much he needs confirmation that it was Conrad, if only so he can stop looking into faces and wondering whether they’re the ones who exposed his secret.
He knows about Jen’s role in it. She didn’t want that, obviously, but after a long conversation earlier today, she agreed that Anders needed to know. She just didn’t want to be the one to tell him. I did that for her, and he spent the next few hours trying to speak to her as she kept ducking him. She doesn’t expect he’s hunting her down to give her shit. That’s not Anders. He wants to tell her it’s okay, and he understands this wasn’t her fault, and somehow that’s worse. She’s escaped into the forest for a couple of days with Cypher, which seems best for all.
It’s nearly nine when April finally comes out to say that Conrad is ready for questioning. He’s still groggy and may not fully understand the consequences of what he’s saying. In a court, his confession would be thrown out, and I’d be severely reprimanded. Luckily, we don’t have courts and my superior officer is overseeing the interrogation.
Conrad confesses. Or maybe “confess” is the wrong word. Even in a judicial setting, there’s usually an air of guilty shame to it. Confessing one’s sins. Unburdening one’s soul. Conrad brags his way through it like the villain in a B thriller. He’s very pleased with his scheme, and furious that Brandon had the audacity to try to kill him for a bit of falsified blackmail.
“I didn’t even have anything on him,” he complains. “It’s not my fault he was stupid enough to fall for it.”
“Like you fell for his note promising information he didn’t have?”
Conrad squints at me. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Yep, he’s a little muddled, and I’m sure when this is over, he’ll insist on retracting his confession. Too bad. Phil gave us his cell phone to record this interview. That will be all the evidence the council needs. We aren’t torturing or threatening Conrad. I don’t ask leading questions. He’s just not in a mental state to screen his answers.
There’s nothing new in those answers. It is exactly as Gloria and Brandon said. Of course Conrad still tries to justify and downplay his culpability. To him, he did nothing wrong. In fact, he’d been the one wronged and if we had only given in to his demands to only be a dentist, he wouldn’t have had to resort to all this.
I don’t ask what crime he committed down south. I only care in the sense that, if I’m wrong, I need to know how else he realized Rockton admits criminals. I’ll confirm this with the council. They’ll never admit to it, but if they tell me there’s no need to keep digging for a leak, I’ll have my answer.
I still ask Conrad how he knew, just for the hell of it.
“Because I’m a smart man,” he says. “I figured it out.”
“Did someone tell you?”
He looks offended. “I said I figured it out. No one needed to tell me anything.”
Yep, he figured it out all right … because he was one of those taking advantage of the loophole.
We end the interview shortly after that, and Dalton gives instructions for Conrad to be moved back to his duplex with a militia guard assigned as his personal-support worker. The clinic is too small for him to stay in the main room, and he’s well enough to go home, as long as we can keep an eye on him.
And with that, the case is solved. We know Conrad exposed Anders, and we know where he got the information. We know he didn’t have any more stories to expose. We also know who tried to kill him for his bluff. Case closed, and we can enjoy our first restful night in days.
The next morning, we have time to put the pot on for coffee before there’s a knock at the door. It’s Kenny telling us we’ve been summoned to a breakfast meeting with Phil and the council. We finish the coffee, but that’s as far as our foot-dragging goes. I’m actually fine with talking to the council today, because I have good news. We know who posted the sign. We know he didn’t have any more information. And we don’t even need to worry about whether or not we should punish him for revealing Anders’s secret, because he’s been punished already. The guy who did that is in the cell awaiting judgment. I’m feeling damn proud of myself, and while I’m sure I won’t even get a “good job” from the council, I look forward to telling them that all situations have been resolved.
We take the long way to Phil’s and stop by the stable yard to give our horses a good-morning carrot. As I’m feeding Cricket, Mateo comes out from the small barn. He’s the backup stable keeper, temporarily elevated to the main role in Maryanne’s absence.
“You didn’t see Jolene on the way over, did you?” he asks.