Gabe shook his head. “We did everything right in that investigation. Derrick won’t walk. There’re no holes.”
“Except the big fucking crater where Billy Monroe’s house used to be,” Tom shot back. “You know as well as I do that the evidence Elle presented against Derrick wasn’t ironclad. The eyewitnesses from the diner were a little hazy on some of the details. Only two of them could positively ID Derrick at all. Elle did one hell of a job in that trial and the jury made the right call. But there’s no guarantee another jury would.”
Gabe dropped back into the chair and put his face in his hands, his thoughts racing. He lifted his gaze to his brother. “Where’s Dad? Abby said he stormed out before I got here. I need to talk to him, make sure he knows this is bullshit.”
Tom heaved a sigh. “He knows it’s bullshit just as much as I do, Gabe. You think Dad would ever think you’re capable of doing something like this? The Old Man has his faults, but he raised us better than that. In fact, he’s on his way to Phil Murray’s house to try to get to him before Monroe does.”
Gabe nodded. “Judge Murray’s not gonna let Monroe get away with this.”
Tom sat down on the corner of his desk. “Gabe, even if that’s the case, this is going to come out. Even the allegation of something of this nature is going to affect you and Elle. There’ll have to be an investigation.”
“We need to get Sandra Monroe in here somehow, get her side of the story,” Gabe muttered. “She can set the record straight.”
“Her father’s bringing her in later today to make her statement against you,” Tom told him. “And he’s bringing her brother as a witness.”
Gabe stared at Tom for a long moment, suddenly numb.
He was done. Tom was right. This story was going to hit the media and even though it was patently false, it wouldn’t matter. He’d be convicted by public opinion even when it was later proven to be just a fabrication of Jeb Monroe’s deranged mind. Gabe’s dream of someday taking over as sheriff was over. Everything he’d worked for all these years, all the good he’d done for the community…it was now tainted, sullied.
“I’m going to have to put you on paid leave until after an investigation has been conducted,” Tom told him, his voice strained. “You know that, right?”
Gabe nodded, still in a daze. “Yeah. I know.”
Tom’s expression was pained as he said, “If there was anything else I could do…”
Gabe stood and glanced around the room, momentarily forgetting where the door was. “Yeah.”
The next thing he knew, his brother was hugging him. “We’re not going to let this son of a bitch get away with this, Gabe,” he ground out, an edge in his voice Gabe had never heard before. “I swear it.”
The grim determination in his brother’s voice snapped Gabe out of his stupor. He returned the hug for a moment, but when his throat grew tight with emotion, he tapped out and strode from Tom’s office, keeping his eyes forward, not daring to meet any of the questioning stares he felt trained on him.
Right then, his only concern was getting to Elle. He’d be damned if he’d let her go down for his mistakes. He’d take the fight to Monroe personally before he’d let that happen. Fuck protocol. This shit was about to get real.
Chapter 21
Elle sat in a daze behind her desk, still unable to believe what she’d heard. There was no way Gabe had done what he’d been accused of. It simply wasn’t possible. Even if she’d heard the ludicrous allegations before she’d known him—before she’d fallen in love with him—she wouldn’t have believed it for a moment. Now that she knew him like she did, had seen the depth of his heart, the limitlessness of his kindness and compassion, the mere thought of someone making an accusation like this infuriated her.
But what she couldn’t understand was why he’d not told her about Sandra Monroe. She’d been unable to completely refute Monroe’s allegation of assault against his daughter because she hadn’t known anything at all about the encounter. Why the hell hadn’t Gabe thought to mention it? Why had he withheld that information?
“Elle?”
She glanced up to her office doorway to see Gabe standing there, his expression so forlorn and haggard he looked far older than his thirty-six years. “Looks like I might be reconsidering that job at the foundation after all.”
He closed the door and came toward her, his hands balled into fists at his side. “They fired you?”