Alex started chuckling beside me. “I’m amazed you hadn’t heard by now. Ned’s daughter married a Townsend not long ago.”
“That poor, poor bastard,” I groaned, tipping my head back. “He’s done so much. Why would life load that on him?” Then something hit me. “Oh, shit, he’s going to end up hating us and bulldoze the town, isn’t he?”
All three of them burst out laughing.
“From what we’ve heard, Ned might be as insane as them underneath it all,” Judd murmured. “When he heard what was happening here, he offered to come and get Hurst in on the planning to resolve shit.”
Alex’s laughter cut off, and even though I hadn’t been laughing, I sobered at this as well.
“We don’t even joke about that shit, Judd,” Alex clipped. “Last time he got involved, he was hiding in the bushes, waiting for that businessman who terrorized one of our residents.”
“Heard about that,” Kap snickered. “We all came in the next morning and said how grateful we were to be Townsend free.”
Both him and Judd burst out laughing again, and I couldn’t help saying what I said next.
“You laugh now, but there’s talk of one of them becoming mayor once Kirkwood’s out.”
Judd’s mouth had been open as he laughed, but it shut with an audible click of his teeth meeting together. “The fuck you say.”
“No joke. People think they’d be good for the area.”
Both P.T.P.D. members shared a nervous look before Judd asked a question that said it all. “Which one?”
“Could be Jack,” Alex shrugged. When both men visibly relaxed, he added, “But people are pressing for Hurst.”
“Fuck,” Kap groaned, his pained expression matching Judd’s. “The man’s awesome and does a lot for people, but him as mayor?”
Before we could agree or disagree, Judd’s phone started dancing across the table, a siren noise screaming out of it. “Sorry,” he muttered, picking it up and looking at the screen. “I sleep like the dead, and if my volume isn’t all the way up for my alarm, I miss it. I usually turn it down to normal during the day, but I kind of slept through it this morning, so I didn’t have time.”
Interestingly enough… he didn’t answer the call.
Then it made a noise again, and his blank expression changed when he saw the screen. “Looks like we’ve got news. Lord Kirkwood—” Had I said yet how much I hated that fucking name. How much of a dumbass do you have to be to call your kids King and Lord? “—isn’t at his home or his business, and his employees say he rang in to say he was taking some time off for personal reasons.”
Yeah, this was something we’d also found out on our way here this morning. We’d know that Lord Kirkwood was the owner of the construction company responsible for the development of thirty-one houses being built in Piersville.
Property prices in the bigger cities had pushed people into moving to smaller towns, so we’d hit a bit of a population and housing boom over the last three years. What we’d discovered was that this most recent development had received building permits quickly—having been fast-tracked by none other than Dirk Kirkwood himself, with King's legal assistance.
“I think we need to get a warrant to check the construction site,” I suggested, an idea occurring to me. “If you own buildings that no one lives in or goes to without your knowledge—like say, a building crew—where would you hide someone the police are looking for?”
Judd’s wise eyes narrowed on me. “Can’t say I’ve ever been in that situation myself, but it seems a building site might not be a bad place for it.”
So, with that agreed, we called DB to fill him in on what was going on, got an update on Cinder’s condition, and got him onto contacting the judge for the warrant. He was also going to send Carter and Garrett over to the Kirkwood mansion to see if they could speak with Dirk. Both men were observant, so they’d also take note of what was going on.
Our end goal was obviously to find out who killed Jordy Watts, who’d attempted to kill Cinder, who was making the drugs, and who was running the drug operation between Piersville and Palmerstown.
Evidence was vital to making an air-tight case against them that our prosecutors would use to convict them in court, so we had to go about it carefully.
It was just a shame that carefully sucked, because we all wanted them put away now. Even thinking about where their drugs could be headed and the damage they could do, I just wanted them gone.
As we were all walking out to our vehicles, I stayed vigilant on the street in front of us.
“You know,” Judd called over the top of his cruiser. “While y’all were putting in your safe room in the new building, we began doing the same thing. It seems it’s not a bad idea to have something to fall back on for when people need it.”
That was something I knew Hurst was responsible for in our building. We had a room like a panic room for residents who felt threatened or wanted to remove themselves from a situation while we searched for someone.
Before now, we’d used a cell or a fake arrest so that the antagonizer let down their guard, de-escalating a situation and allowing us to apprehend them. The new place was more secure and comfortable for people, though.
It was a weird thing to have, but once you thought about it, it wasn’t a bad facility to have, either. Palmerstown having one made sense.
“A week after it was completed,” he continued, “an elderly couple came to us scared out of their minds because they kept getting aggressive phone calls, letters, and weird noises around their house at night. We put them in the room for their peace of mind while we investigated and tracked down the person behind it.”
Not waiting for him to finish it, Kap butted in. “It was their grandson.
