“He thinkin’ of doin’ somethin’ stupid?” This was Krystal who either had super-powered ears or the gift of mind reading.
My eyes moved to hers. “He’s not stupid. But he’s angry.”
“Would be too,” Deke grunted.
“Deke,” Jim-Billy muttered.
Deke’s eyes sliced to Jim-Billy. “You would be too.”
Jim-Billy looked at his beer. He would be too. Anyone would be.
“You two tight?” Tate asked and I looked to him. He’d seen the way Ty was at the party, there and holding me close but at the same time not there. He’d clocked it and wondered about it. I knew this. He hadn’t seen us together since. He couldn’t know how it was before Ty shut down and after Ty let me in.
“Yes,” I told him and hoped that he’d trust that.
“How much sway you got?” Tate asked.
“Not enough,” I shook my head, “not enough for this.”
“Let the man do what he’s gotta do,” Deke advised and my eyes went to him.
“He had five years stolen from him.”
“Yeah,” Deke agreed on a grunt. “So let the man do what he’s gotta do.”
I held Deke’s eyes. Then I said firmly, “He couldn’t take more.” I looked to Tate and stated, “He shouldn’t have to take more.” My gaze went to Krystal. “They’ve taken enough.”
I felt all their eyes then I saw Tate’s head turn and tip down to look at Krystal. She looked up at him. Then she looked at Jim-Billy and Tate looked at Deke.
“I have to do something,” I whispered into their eye communication exchange. I looked all around them then declared, “Someone has to do something. I’ve been living in Carnal eight days and even I know enough’s enough.” I leaned into the bar and whispered, “What’s happening has to be stopped. Not just for Ty but for whoever else is getting railroaded by these assholes.” I leaned back and kept talking, “Someone has to do something and that someone is going to be me. And the only thing I have to start with is this Tambo guy.”
Tate’s gaze cut back to me. “I’ll talk to Tambo.”
My heart leaped. “You will?”
He jerked his chin up. “I will. I’ll also talk to the boys I trust in the Department. Feel them out. See if one of ‘em’s a whistleblower or might be willin’ to nose around.”
My heart started racing then it stuttered when Krystal hissed quietly, “Tate, you could get jacked just like Ty.”
“I could also clear his name, get him restitution at the same time this town learns how to live with a Force that they can count on rather than question and fear,” Tate returned and, not done making his point, continued. “You got tits, you get pulled over for speeding, you don’t gotta get on your knees to give a blowjob to get outta some jacked up charge just so a man in a uniform with a little authority can get his rocks off. You got problems with kids stealin’ shit from your shelves, you don’t have to pass an envelope of cash over the counter to pay for protection you’re already payin’ for with your taxes. Your husband’s beatin’ the shit outta you, you don’t have to put up with it ‘cause he’s got a badge and you got no one clean you can turn to. You make food for a living, you serve a plate to a man with a badge, you don’t gotta look the other way when he walks out without payin’ the bill. A uniform is shitfaced in his cruiser on duty, he crashes that cruiser, totals it and it needs to be replaced and his hospital bills need to be paid and they are, on the citizen’s dime, he gets stripped of his badge not a fuckin’ commendation.”
Wow, seemed like things were worse than I thought and they were already really fucking bad.
And I made a mental note not to have a heavy foot in the Charger like I had a tendency to have.
And last, it was apparent Tate had been burying this for awhile and it was equally apparent he was very done doing that.
“You tried that shit before,” Krystal fired back.
“And Ty pulled me back,” Tate reminded her.
“He pulled you back because it was getting hot,” she reminded him right back and Tate turned his body to her and the way he did made me shrink back a bit because I didn’t know him all that well but I knew he was serious and his serious was a bit scary.
“Yeah, Krys, and it was gettin’ hot because I was gettin’ close.”
I felt my eyes get big, so hopeful I was no longer scared of big, handsome, well-built, serious Tate Jackson, I leaned in and whispered, “To what?”
Tate turned to me and answered, “Don’t know. Somethin’. Victim was shot but the murder weapon never found, more than one source told me the victim was known to Gene Fuller and Eugene Fuller makes Arnie Fuller look like a fuckin’ Boy Scout.”
“How was the victim known to Fuller?” I asked.
“Dealer and, word is, Fuller likes his blow,” Tate answered.
I sucked in breath and sat back, muttering, “Cokehead?”