Amanda Stevens - Pine Lake

“Jack? Jack King, right?”

Unease feathered along his spine. “Yes, this is Jack.”

“You don’t know who this is, do you? Little wonder. It’s been a long time. Fifteen years to be exact.” The caller fell silent. “Damn, this is a lot harder than I thought it would be. It’s Nathan, Jack. Nathan Bolt.”

Nathan Bolt. Now there was a name from his past. He and Jack and Tommy Driscoll had been best friends all through school. Blood brothers since kindergarten. Thick as thieves, Uncle Leon used to say. Until Nathan and Tommy had turned on Jack during their senior year. They’d given each other alibis for the night of Anna Grayson’s murder, leaving Jack alone in the crosshairs of a ruthless sheriff.

With little evidence and zero suspects, the authorities had gone hard after Jack. He was the boyfriend, after all, and unlike Tommy and Nathan, he hadn’t been able to produce an alibi. The harassment had continued for months, making him an outcast in the place where he’d lived his whole life. Even after an arrest had finally been made and an ex-con sent back to prison, the community had continued to shun him. In the ensuing years, Jack had done his best to forget about Pine Lake and everyone who lived there, but not a day went by that he didn’t think about Anna. Not a day went by that he didn’t wish for her the long and happy life she had deserved.

An image flashed through his head. Dark hair, dark eyes. A smile that could light up a stadium.

Sweat beaded on his brow. He wiped it away with the back of his hand.

“Hello? Jack? You there? Did I lose you?”

“I’m here,” he said, though his instinct still was to end the call without giving Nathan a chance to explain why he had decided to make contact after so many years of silence. Or how he had gotten Jack’s number in the first place. That probably wasn’t too hard to figure out. He’d been Uncle Leon’s attorney.

“You must be wondering why I’m calling,” Nathan said.

“Did Leon give you my number?”

“Yes. We discussed certain things before he died. He said I should give you a call.”

“What things?”

Another pause. “Did you get the letter I sent you about his estate?”

“I got it.”

“I wondered. I never heard back from you. Things have been left hanging, but that’s my fault. I should have followed up. And I should have called when it first happened. I’m sorry I didn’t. I’m sorry about a lot of things.” He sighed. “I don’t imagine that cuts much ice with you.”

“If this is about Leon’s estate, you should talk to my dad,” Jack said brusquely. “He’ll give you whatever you need.”

“If you read my letter, you know Leon left everything to you. The cabin, the little bit of cash he had in the bank. But this isn’t about your uncle.”

“Then what’s it about?”

“I need to talk to you about Tommy.”

It had started to rain, a light drizzle that spiked the humidity and turned the oily streets to glass. As if traffic wasn’t bad enough on a Friday afternoon in downtown Houston. Jack pressed against the building to keep dry.

“Why would you need to talk to me about Tommy?”

“He’s the Caddo County sheriff. Going on three years now. Leon must have told you about the last election. The accusations of fraud and intimidation. The way that vote went down left a lot of bad blood in this town.”

“Leon and I didn’t talk politics.” They hadn’t talked much at all in the past few years and that was on Jack. He’d let himself get too caught up in work because it was easier to focus on the greed and corruption of others than to dwell on his own shortcomings, including a failed marriage. If a day didn’t go by without a thought of Anna, his ex-wife hardly ever crossed his mind. That undoubtedly said more about Jack than it did about her. Not her fault he had trust issues. Not for lack of trying that she couldn’t breach his walls.

“I’ve done my research,” Nathan was saying. “I know what you do at the Blackthorn Agency. You investigate police departments, right? You expose government corruption.”

“Among other things.”

“Leon said you were the best at what you do.”

“Leon was biased.”

“Maybe, but you always were the best at everything you set your mind to.”

Was that an edge of the old jealousy rearing its ugly head? Jack and Tommy Driscoll had had a good-natured rivalry on the football field, but the competition with Nathan in the classroom hadn’t been so amiable. Nathan needed to be the best and the brightest in order to prove his worth to his father. Jack needed the grades for a scholarship. His early acceptance to a top-tier school had been a bitter pill for Nathan to swallow, but that offer and most of the others had been rescinded when Anna’s murder and the subsequent investigation had made the national news. And that had been a bitter pill for Jack to swallow.

“I know I’m catching you off guard,” Nathan said. “But I didn’t know who else to call. We’ve got a real problem up here, Jack. Drugs have taken over the whole damn county. Crack, meth, kush. And nobody has a mind to do anything about it. You can’t imagine how bad it’s gotten.”

“I’ve worked on the border,” Jack said. “I don’t have to imagine how bad things can get.”

“Well, sure. El Paso’s one thing, but we’re talking about Pine Lake. Last year alone, we had ten murders in Caddo County. Ten. Not a lot by big city standards, but you must remember how quiet this place once was.”

He remembered, all right.

“Something’s going on in our little town. Something bad. Used to be just a few random incidents, but now there’s organization. Muscle. And I think Tommy’s involved. In it up to his neck, is my guess.”

“In what?”

“That’s what I need you to find out.”

“If you’re looking to hire my firm, you’ll have to go through the proper channels. I don’t solicit work. I go where I’m told.”

“I was hoping we could do this off the books. I’ll pay you myself. Whatever you want.”

“Not interested.”

“Even if it could lead you to Anna’s murderer?”

Nathan’s words were like scissor points gouging a tender wound. “Her killer was sent to prison fifteen years ago.”

“What if they pinned it on the wrong man? Have you ever considered that?”

More times than Jack cared to remember. He’d even made a trip to the Texas State Penitentiary a few years back to interview Wayne Foukes for himself. He’d come away more convinced than ever that Foukes belonged behind bars. He was less certain the man had been sent up for the right reason.

“What if I told you Tommy lied about where he was that night?” Nathan said softly. “Would you come then?”

Jack stared out across the street. He could feel a pulse start to pound in his temple. “What you’re really saying is that you lied about that night.”

“I had to. He threatened to hurt someone I cared about if I didn’t.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Do you remember my cousin Olive? She and my aunt came to live with us after my uncle died.”

Jack skimmed his memory, summoning up a hazy image of a slight redhead with glasses. “Vaguely.”

“You probably didn’t even notice her, but she used to follow me around all the time. I think she just needed someone to pay attention to her. Tommy didn’t come right out and say it, but he let me know if I didn’t swear to the police he was at my house all night, something bad might happen to Olive.”

“I take it he wasn’t at your house.”

“He slept over just like we said, but I woke up during the night and found him gone.”

“And you never once thought about going to the police? Or to your father? He was a big shot in the county. He could have protected you from Tommy Driscoll or anyone else who threatened you.”