Chapter 24
Brice walked into the station ready for a new day at work. He smiled when he saw Carol, but it quickly turned into a frown when she waved him over to the counter. He complied, leaning over the counter so he could hear better.
“Harry’s in a bad mood,” she whispered. “He gave me a reaming, threatened to fire me unless I got my act together.”
Brice shook his head. Why would Carol be fired? “Did he say what for?”
“No. But he wants to talk to you. Be careful.”
Brice nodded, then taking a deep breath, walked down the hallway to Harry's office. The door was slightly ajar and stepping in, he closed it behind him. Harry was puffing away on a cigarette behind his desk, his large frame leaned back against the office chair.
“Have a seat,” Harry said, his voice definitely agitated. Brice nodded, wondering what was going on as he took his seat. The heater was on full blast, and though he considered taking his coat off, he unzipped it instead.
“How was your vacation, Harry?” Brice asked, hoping to cut the ice in the room.
Harry took another drag, then let it out, the smoke billowing up to the once white tiles above them.
“Not too bad, I suppose. Carol seemed to run this place alright.”
Brice nodded. “She did.”
“Good,” Harry said, then sat up, putting his cigarette out in the ashtray. “Brice, I want to tell you something about this department.”
“Sure.”
He watched Harry smirk. “It’s been here over one hundred years. We have never had any real big issues. Well, I mean I remember ole Jim, the sheriff back in the 70s, drove drunk but nothing too big scandal-wise.”
“I gathered as much. You run a tight ship,” Brice said, still not sure where this was heading. Was something going down? Or had complaints against Harry finally been made?
“I sure do,” Harry said, grabbing a large manila folder and then sliding it towards Brice.
“What’s this?”
“Open it.”
Brice nodded. He opened the folder and poured out the contents, which were large photographs. His heart began to race, fear rushing through him. Pictures of him and Logan at the movies, the diner they went to afterward, the motel room. His mind flooded with excuses, but none of them seemed to be good enough. He looked up and Harry had a wide grin on his face.
“Didn't take you for one of those type.” He puffed away at a new cigarette.
Brice responded, trying to play it off. “You mean gay?”
Harry nodded.
“I'm not,” Brice said. This was not a matter of defending his sexuality, it was a matter of his job. And already the wheels were turning in his head.
“Not what my guy saw.”
“Well, I can assure you, he’s wrong. I was taking Logan out, trying to civilize him…” Brice started to say, when Harry started laughing.
“Give it up, I have more photos, recordings.”
Brice felt his heart sink and his nerves gave out. This was it. Nine months into law enforcement and he was going to be fired. No other department would hire him, and now he would have to start all over again.
“Amazing what a private eye can do. But enough about that,” Harry said putting his cigarette out and grabbing yet another. “And quit looking so sick. I’m not going to fire you.”
Brice looked up, confusion running through him. “Really? I would’ve thought you would, given the circumstances.”
Harry laughed, lighting up his cigarette. “Having a homo around is actually a good thing. At least I know you’re not going to be hitting on the tail I want.”
The way he said ‘homo’ caused Brice to clench his fist, memories of his own father rushing back to him. Then undoing his fist, he let out a deep breath. “So that’s it? I'm not in trouble?”
Harry stood up, then walked over to the window and looked outside. For a minute he said nothing, just taking drag after drag.
“I can ruin your career and your life or save it. I’ve decided that I’m going to save it and you’re going to do what I had asked you to do since Logan came into town.”
“What’s that?” Brice asked, his voice shaky, although he already knew the answer.
“You’re going to harass that boy, surprise visit him morning, noon and night. And when I tell you it’s time, you’re going to plant so much drugs on him that he will never be released.” When Harry turned around, his face was twisted into a sneer that made Brice’s heart stop. “You do that, and this goes away.” He motioned to the photos on the desk. “No charges for you, you keep your job, shit, maybe one day make it as sheriff here when I'm gone.” Harry laughed. “Not that your kind would be accepted around here, but it’s a thought.”
Brice wanted to stand up and walk out. There was no way he was going to hurt Logan. He would just have to lose his job and take the consequences with it.
“By the way, if you refuse, Carol gets fired and loses that home of hers,” Harry said, walking over to his desk and opening a drawer. Pulling out a folder, he took some more photographs out and handed them to Brice. In them were shots of him and Carol on her couch. The hug, the kiss, all captured on camera.
“Yes, sir, relationships between staff members is not only frowned upon, but can have both parties severed. So, what do you say, son?” Harry asked in an almost jovial manner as he grabbed his coat and put it on. “You ready to do your job or get walking?”
Anger and hurt and even fear flooded through Brice. It was obvious that the private eye had broken into homes and set up cameras and his conversations had been recorded. But if he walked, he would basically be handing Carol her termination. The woman was going through enough already, struggling to pay her mortgage. And then there was Logan. Walking away would leave him at the mercy of Harry, and that would not be a good thing. Maybe before the time came, he could figure something out and make this all work out right in the end.
Standing up, he faked a smile. It was time to make the courageous stand he had needed to all his life.
“I think what you’re offering is fair. Thank you, Harry.”
Harry grinned, slapping him on his shoulder. “That’s the spirit. And when you visit Logan, I think you know all of that” —Harry rubbed his palms together— “type stuff is over with. My eyes and ears are everywhere, so not a peep or hint from you.”
Brice nodded. “I understand completely. I value my job more than him.”
“Smart boy. Now, let’s go pay Logan a visit.”
***
Not only was the cold wind causing Brice's face to feel a bit numb, but inside he felt numb as well. Each step he took towards Second Chances, his stomach hurt even more. He was about to harass the only person in his life he cared about. And it had gone beyond caring, the signs of love were there. When Logan had told him they needed to take time apart, inside it crushed Brice, but he knew it was the right thing to do. But now heading towards Logan, he only hoped that somehow he would see what was going on.
“You know they have therapy,” Harry said, breaking Brice from his thoughts.
“I'm sorry. What do you mean?” Brice asked. They were only a block away, and Main Street was pretty quiet with only a handful of people moving in and out of stores.
“Therapy. For the gay gene. Some fancy shit, electrocute you and all. Thought you might want to know.”
Brice bit down on his tongue to keep his anger from springing from his lips. It was the same crap his dad would tell him, that he had a disease, a mental illness.
“Thanks.”
They walked in silence, for which Brice was thankful. When they got to the shop, Brice reached out to open the door, but Harry put a meaty hand on his shoulder to stop him.
“You follow my lead. Let’s see how serious you are about keeping your job and Carol safe.”
“Of course,” Brice said, then opened the door. Stepping into the store, he saw both Bree and Maddy near the counter, a cup of coffee in their hands. Both were wearing red sweaters and were talking away as they approached.
“Well, hello, Ms. Bree,” Harry said, licking his lips. He stared right at her chest, and Brice could tell Bree was uncomfortable as she crossed her arms over her stomach.
“What do you want?” Maddy asked, her voice sharp.
Brice felt a stab of guilt go through him. The poor woman hated Harry, and for good reason. And here he was standing beside him as if they were partners or something.
“Watch your mouth. Where’s your brother?”
“Backroom.”
Harry looked over at Brice. “Let’s go.”
Brice glanced back. Maddy was shaking her head at him. If she didn't like him now, he knew she was going to end up hating him later. Moving past the clothing racks, they made their way to the back room, and Brice wanted to cry. Logan was whistling, putting clothes onto hangers, a smile on his face. When he looked up, the smile went away.
“Well, Logan, how are you today?” Harry asked in a mock interested tone as he walked over to the table where a pile of clothes were.
“Fine,” Logan replied, taking a few steps back. He looked over at Brice, his eyes pleading. As much as it pained him, Brice looked away.
“Now, Brice, pat down Logan there. See if he has any drugs or anything else illegal on him.”
Brice nodded, then turned to Logan. “Hands against the wall, please.”
Logan tilted his head, and then turning around, put his hands against the wall.
“That’s it, pat him down good.”
Brice did, and of course found nothing, and told Harry as such.
“Logan, you sure do pile all these clothes up nice and neat,” Harry said. Logan turned and looked over his shoulder. “Hands back on the wall convict.”
Logan looked at Brice, his face confused.
“Do as he says,” Brice said, his voice rough, hoping to appease Harry. The look of hurt that crossed Logan's blue eyes caused Brice’s heart to break.
With a nod, Logan put his hands back on the wall.
“So, did you fold these clothes convict?” Harry asked again as he ran his hands over the neatly folded shirts and blouses.
“I did fold them.”
“You’re going to have to fold them again,” Harry said, pushing the first pile of clothes off the table to the floor. Then he walked over to another pile, picking them up and then throwing them on the floor. “And you’re going to need to wash them.” Grabbing the mug of coffee, he poured it on the clothes.
“Dammit, Harry, what’s this about?” Logan asked, his head turned slightly.
Harry walked over, his hand coming to Logan's neck. “It’s about you killing Tommy. I told you before never to come back here, and you did just that. You have no life anymore, Logan. It belongs to me now.” Then with a grin on his face, he looked at Brice. “Ain’t that right?”
“It is, boss.”
Harry walked over to an organized shelf of linens and swiped his arm across the shelf, everything flying to the floor. Then he emptied box after box of items on top of the linens, making a general mess. A mess that could be cleaned up, thrown into the laundry and made new again. But it was a signal Harry was sending—that he was going to fuck with Logan until he left town.
As he ransacked the room, Brice felt his heart break when he saw the pain in Logan's eyes. The eyes that were pleading for some sign that Brice still cared. But Brice was too afraid that Harry would see it and make everything far worse than it already was.
“Now, Logan, listen up. You’re going to be getting daily visits from now on,” Harry said, walking towards them, Logan's hand still on the wall.
“Fine, Harry,” Logan spat, his temper evident by the tone of his voice.
“Now, don't be getting all mouthy with me. Your sister got mouthy, and we both know what she got,” Harry said, his words cruel.
As if in slow motion, Logan's hand curled into a fist, his body shifting ready to strike Harry. And in that moment Brice had to make a decision. If he allowed Logan to strike him, Logan would go back to prison, not only to finish his sentence, but more than likely do another ten for assaulting a cop. A sentence that would destroy his family.
“Don't,” Brice said, his hand coming to the back of Logan's neck, pushing him against the wall and using his own body to hold Logan against it.
“See that, Logan? Brice knows who’s in charge around here. Now, you want to hit me, go right ahead.” Harry said, nodding at Brice that signaled him to let Logan go. He let go of Logan, and then stepped back.
Slowly Logan turned around, and the look of disgust he gave Brice made him want to cry.
“Anything else?”
“Nope, not today. Clean this shit up though, it looks bad.”
Brice followed Harry to the door, and when he turned back to take one last quick look he saw Logan standing there, his arms crossed over his chest and a look of hurt on his face matching the hurt inside of Brice.