“You should be back by now.” Captain Lattimer’s voice is steady and soft, which may be a bad thing.

“I know, sir,” I say. “I got caught up in an investigation here.”

“Investigation?” His voice tightens. “You’re not authorized to conduct any investigations out there, son.”

“I know that, sir,” I say. “It was a friend of mine from school, murdered in an apparent drug deal. The cops here aren’t too interested in finding the killer of a junkie, but he was my friend.”

Captain Lattimer goes silent for a second. If there’s anything the captain will respond to, it’s friendship. He’s an old-school guy, the sort of cop that believes building relationships is paramount to community safety.

“You’re off the clock,” he says finally. “If you want to do this, you’re doing it on your own dime. Understood?”

“Yes, sir,” I say, relieved.

“And I’m docking your pay for today.”

I grimace. “Yes, sir.”

“Good. Check in soon. You have a week.”

He hangs up the phone and I sigh. I glance down at the time before slipping my phone back into my pocket. It’s night and getting a little chilly, but I don’t really feel it. My mind is still on Cora and this damn case.

I feel like I’m missing something. I don’t understand this place anymore, and I definitely don’t have a relationship with the community anymore. Cora is the only connection I have left, now that Atticus is gone. Sure, I have old friends from school, but I barely know them.

Which is why I’m here. The Great American is starting to get crowded, though I’m still lingering in the parking lot. Mitch went inside a few minutes ago, and I know he’ll be drinking and waiting for me to show.

I don’t feel like going in. I’d rather go to Cora’s place right now and kiss those lips again. I keep thinking about our night together, how fucking good it felt, sunk deep between her legs. She ground herself against my cock, not holding anything back, and the way she came… it was like goddamn magic. It drove me insane. It’s still driving me insane.

I can’t stop thinking about it. I need more, I absolutely have to have more, and I want it right now.

But I have to be patient. There’s still something dark inside of her, a sorrow that’s driving her forward. I could see it in her back at that casino, right after Kristi left. I wanted to kiss her then, tell her it would all be okay, but I don’t know if it really will be.

Truth is, we may never find the asshole that did this to Atticus. I feel like this town has too many fucking secrets, and I’m just trying to scratch at the surface. It’s a goddamn losing battle, but I know I can’t give up.

My captain gave me a week. I need to use this time wisely. And that means I need more information.

I head inside and spot Mitch sitting at the end of the bar again. I join him and he wordlessly nods at me.

I order a beer. “How’s it going?” I ask him.

He sighs. “Had a hell of a shitshow earlier. So this is much needed.” He grins and raises his glass.

“What happened?”

“You know, the usual domestic bullshit.” He sips his drink.

I know he wants me to ask. “Tell me about it.”

“Well, it was a normal call, came over the radio. My partner and I were the closest, so we respond and head over. It’s in the trailer park, you know the one over on Rose, near the Giant supermarket.”

I nod. “I know the one. A little bit nicer.”

“That’s what I thought too.” He rolls his eyes. “So we show up, and there’s this woman, drunk as can be, right? Yelling her fucking head off about something her boyfriend did, and there’s this guy, kinda standing off to the side.”

“The boyfriend?”

He nods. “Right you are. He’s a scrawny dude, totally sober. So we roll up, and my partner goes to calm the lady, and I go to talk to the boyfriend. You know what he says to me?”

I shake my head. I’ve heard stories like this a million times, but it’s still probably the best part of being a cop. “What’d he say?”

“He said, ‘Officer, I’m glad you’re here. My girl’s tits are out and she won’t put them away.’” He leans back in his chair, cracking up. “The whole time, she’s fucking topless! Tits flopping in the wind!”

I can’t help but grin at that. “So what happened?”

“We calmed her down, got a top on her. Apparently the boyfriend asked her to put a shirt on while she was outside and that set her off. Anyway, that shit took an hour and a half, but man, that was funny.”

I grin at him and we clink glasses. He launches into another story about another crazy local asshole, and I’m only half listening. I’ve heard all these stories and worse back in the city.

After about an hour of swapping stories, Mitch is looking a little drunk. He’s on beer number three and showing no sign of stopping, which is fine by me, I’m not judgmental. But I do need to know what I came here to find out, so I can’t wait anymore, in case he gets too wasted.

“Listen, Mitch,” I say to him, just after finishing one of my own good stories, the one about the priest and the rotten fish in his car. “I wanted to ask you something.”

“What’s up?” he asks, wiping his eyes from laughing so hard.

“I’ve been hanging around town now, and something’s bugging me. You all talk about that gang, the Niners, but you guys never say much about them. What’s the deal there?”

He sighs a little. “Who fucking knows, man. Whenever we make an arrest, ten guys step in to replace the cockroach.”

“But what are they even doing here?” I ask him. “I mean, Mason is pretty small.”

“That’s what we were wondering. Turns out, there’s a ton of addicts in Mason and the surrounding counties. The forest reserve down south is huge, and apparently they camp out there in little mobile meth labs.”

“No shit?” I ask him.

“Sure,” he says. “We try and stamp them out, but you know how big that place is.”

He’s not kidding. The nature reserve is absolutely massive, the biggest in the state.

“But they’re not violent?”

He makes a face. “Well…”

I sigh. “Well?”

“They are. I may have mislead you a little bit before.”

I narrow my eyes. “Why?”

“You’re a damn outside cop poking around our shit. A fucking homicide cop, no less. I didn’t trust you.”

I nod, not surprised. Cops protect their own, and if someone might threaten the reputation of the station, they’ll do what they have to do to stop it.

“I’m not here to fuck with your shit, Mitch,” I say.

“I get it. I know you’re poking around the Lewis murder, and shit, nobody cares. If you wanna work it, then work it. We won’t stop you.”

I nod, feeling genuinely grateful. “Thanks, man.”

“Sure. Just, we make the arrest.”

“Of course,” I say. “Honestly, I don’t care about that.”

“Then I’m an open book.” He grins at me. “What do you want to know?”

“Jaxson Moyer,” I say to him.

He grins at me. “Jaxson, huh?”

“What do you know about him?”

He sighs. “First, you remember him from school?”

“Sure.”

“He was a loser even back then.” Mitch takes a long drink. “The guy thinks he’s a real badass. You know the type. Talks a lot, has some minor arrests, but he’s a nobody.”

“Minor arrests?” I ask.

“Sure. I got him for a drunk and disorderly once. He’s got possession, burglary once, a few other shit charges. Did some minor time, a few months, I think. He’s practically a regular at the precinct.”

I frown at him, thinking. “So he’s minor in the Niners?”

“Very,” Mitch confirms.

“Tell me more about their operations.”

He launches into a detailed rundown, but after a couple minutes I start to tune him out. I quickly realize that it’s not relevant to our case, but what he said about Jaxson keeps coming back to me.

He’s a nobody. I got the sense that he was important that night he threatened us, but it turns out that was just a lie. So Jaxson’s the kind of guy to inflate his own importance, make himself look tougher. He probably thinks his minor arrests are fucking cool or some shit.

I just don’t see the connections yet. Atticus dies in a drug deal, Jaxson’s pissed we’re investigating, he’s involved somehow, but he’s just a minor guy in this gang. He’s got an ego, that’s for sure. He and Atticus used to know each other, but I don’t know how close they were before the murder.

I have another beer with Mitch and I leave not long later, still full of questions, but I don’t think he has my answers. There are only a couple of people that know the truth, and I doubt they’ll just come out and tell me at this point. I burned my bridges with Kristi, and Jaxson’s going to get more and more aggressive as this thing drags out.

I’m frustrated. I can’t see it, can’t see how it all lines up. Normally I can figure out a murder like a jigsaw puzzle, all the little pieces falling into place, but this one is still all jumbled. Maybe it’s because I’m too close to be objective, I just don’t know.

Sleeping with Cora was definitely a mistake, but it was the kind of mistake I want to make again. I want to keep on making it, over and over, and I know that’s going to cloud my judgment. Still, I can’t help myself. I want everything, and I’m going to take it, sooner or later.