Chapter 11

"How's your face?" Conall asked Bethany.

She shook her head. "It's fine," she muttered, still in shock. "I just can't believe it. They are so young, and they didn't used to be like that."

"No, men like that? They grow into it," Conall noted. "They think that they're something special and that nobody can stop them, and that's a fostered misbelief that they've gotten from family and friends." Conall shook his head. "It just lives in their world."

"It's worrisome what they said about Melanie," Bethany shared.

"I know. It's hard to tell what is truth and what is BS, but they surely knew who you were talking about. But it wasn't that clear whether Jake and his merry band are really hooked up with Page and Mel or not. Their egos are so big they're seriously looking for trouble, and, if they want it, they will find it," Conall said. "I really don't care at this point. I'm tired of dealing with the whole bunch of them."

She gave him half a smile. "But they got in here on their own."

"Yeah, remember that thing about locks?" he reminded her.

She groaned. "I don't even want to think about changing these too."

"Yet you also don't want them coming back."

"Do you really think a lock will change that?"

"No, I sure don't," he agreed. "We have to fix what's wrong here, and unfortunately that won't be an overnight process. Unless of course," he added, with a smirk, "they all end up finding each other."

"I don't know whether that's a good idea or not," Bethany replied, looking worried. "Page is so insistent on being the big man. If he comes up against one of these other groups, there will likely be a shootout."

Conall raised one eyebrow and asked innocently, "Is that so bad?"

She winced. "Stop it. I get that, for you, it's probably a perfect ending. However, for those of us around here,… who remember the younger and happier versions of these bullies, it'll be a much harder ending."

"One they all deserve," he stated.

She groaned. "I know. I know, but all I'm seeing right now is you being pissed that I got hurt."

He nodded. "Good, I'm glad you can see that because I am beyond pissed that you got hurt. Jake had no business hitting you like that."

"No," she agreed, as she moved her jaw tenderly. "I sure as hell wish he had missed that step."

"Trust me. He'll wish he had," Conall vowed.

She looked over at him. "You made some threats there, but will you carry them out?"

He smiled at her. "What do you think?"

"I want to know your thoughts on that, Conall."

"Absolutely. I have no problem telling you. If you hadn't been here, I would have taken them down myself," he shared, "but you'd already been hurt, and I wouldn't leave that to chance. Now, if you want to stay here, I'll go after them."

"No, I don't want you going after them," she cried out in horror.

"Somebody's got to stop them," he said, looking at her intently.

"Not you," she murmured. "That's what the sheriff and his deputies are for."

He looked at her and then rolled his eyes. "How much good have they been so far?"

She shook her head. "Not so much, but they can't all be lazy or bad."

"No, they can't, and they aren't. We had a bunch come out earlier," Conall noted, "but that doesn't mean they'll come out if they think we may be filing a complaint against God-only-knows who. Somebody in local law enforcement is clearly on the take or protecting someone, so we can't expect them to be fair to us."

"It's such a shit deal," she muttered, "and it's not fair to anybody."

"No, and that's why we have to make some waves."

Just then came a knock on the door. She stared at him, eyes wide, and he muttered, "The sheriff, remember?"

"Great," she replied, "too little, too late."

"Yeah, but that's often the way." He walked over and opened the door to see two deputies standing there, glaring at him. He raised an eyebrow. "Now, if only you'd been like five minutes earlier, it might have done some good."

"We got a complaint from two citizens out in the parking lot that you pulled a gun on them."

He looked at them and then started to laugh. "Is that what the assholes said?"

The two men shook their heads. "They accused you of accosting them out in the parking lot. The complaint has named and described you very clearly."

Bethany stepped forward in a fit of rage, her face red and swollen. "And you believed them?" she asked in outrage.

They looked at each other, then at her and asked, "Will you tell us a different story?"

She glared at him, then shook her head. Turning to Conall, she said, "I guess talking to them won't do a damn bit of good, will it?"

The one officer replied, "Hey, that's not fair. We don't know what's going on, not until we hear the story from all sides."

She shook her head. "You don't give a crap about the story from my side," she snapped, glaring at them. She turned to Conall. "So much for Badger."

Just then Conall's phone vibrated. Taking it from his pocket, he spoke into the phone, testing to see if Badger was still listening in.

"About time you talked to me. I thought you had forgotten you were tying up my line."

Conall chuckled.

"Expect my guy soon." Then Badger disconnected.

A second pounding suddenly came on the door, and the vibrations alone might take the door off its hinges.

She glared at the two officers. "Do you mind moving, please?" She walked around them and opened the door. Another man stepped into the small apartment, looked at the two deputies, lifted his chin in acknowledgment, then turned to her and Conall, his gaze sharp. "Badger sent me."

Conall nodded. "Good, perfect timing. These officers were just explaining how someone accused us of attacking them at gunpoint and causing trouble for the local riffraff."

"Hey, hey, hey," the deputy added, "that's not fair."

"It's not untrue though, is it?" Conall added.

"We hadn't heard your side of the story yet."

"No, but you didn't exactly come in here asking for our story either," she snapped, glaring at them.

He just frowned, then looked over at his partner. "Seems we've missed something here."

His partner nodded. "Like we just stepped into the middle of something, to be honest."

"You did, but that's all right," Conall replied. "It's never too late to get on the right side."

"How do we know which is the right side?" he asked, looking from his partner back to the new arrival. "What did you mean about Badger sent you? Who the hell is Badger?"

He smiled. "Yeah, Badger sent me," he repeated cheerfully, "telling me how apparently there are some issues with local law enforcement."

"And who would you be?" one deputy asked.

He smiled bigger and held up a badge that Bethany couldn't see. Still she saw enough to see the color drain from the first deputy's face.

"Oh, good," Bethany said. "Anything that makes you guys leery must be a good thing for us."

"Now look. We just came because we got a complaint from a local citizen."

"Oh, that's interesting," she snapped, with a mock smile. "So, you didn't come in response to my phone call about intruders in my apartment. I'm a local too. And what about my report earlier about a gunman who attacked me at my place of business earlier today? It required additional calls by others," she added, glaring at the deputies.

The two uniformed men looked at each other and shook their heads. "We don't know anything about a report of an intruder, and I have to ask…" he began, stammering under the watchful gaze of the guy with the badge. "What are you involved in that has you ending up with gunmen in your place of work and your apartment today?"

She gasped, as she understood the hidden meaning in his words, but Conall reached out a hand and placed it on her shoulder. "Don't waste the energy." She spun on him, and he just smiled and pulled her into his chest. "You won't win an argument on this one, since it's to their advantage to assume you're the problem, and we aren't changing that right now."

Her shoulders slumped, and she turned to glare at the two deputies. "Officers, the door is behind you. Please use it."

"In that case, we'll have to take you in for questioning," the one deputy stated coolly, obviously not liking the way the conversation was going, "because you have been accused of harassment."

"Really? See this red mark on my face? Jake hit me. And I suppose that harassment complaint came from Jake too? Him and the local roughneck idiots associated with the family who owns the mill in town here, who basically supports your paycheck?" she snapped, with a knowing smile. "The very same riffraff who can come around with guns, beating people up and stealing from local businesses, doing whatever they like, and nobody lifts a finger to stop them?"

"That's not true," the one deputy countered stiffly, "and besides, we're just doing our jobs and following up on a complaint."

"I wonder where the complaint that I made went," she stated, glaring at him, "because it's obvious you're not here to help me."

At that, the new arrival motioned at the two deputies. "I would like to speak with you outside, please." They turned and glared at him, but he shrugged and added, "Or we can go down to the sheriff's office, your choice. On the other hand, I'll be going to see the sheriff in a little bit anyway, so don't worry about it."

"What's not to worry about?" the same deputy asked him.

"These two. I'll handle this issue, and, if you want them in for questioning, I'll bring them in with me," he replied smoothly. "It'll be you guys I want to talk to when I get there, so you've got"—he looked at his watch—"about forty-five minutes to get your stories straight."

"We don't answer to you," the one deputy snapped.

"No, you sure don't," he confirmed, with a cold smile, "but your boss will be calling you any minute now."

Just then, both of their phones went off. They looked at each other, quickly picked up their phones, and seeing who it was, they walked out.

At that, the new arrival turned to them and introduced himself. "My name's Greg."

"Glad to meet you," she said. "It's been a bit of a nightmare here."

"Sounds like it, and all over a War Dog." Greg smiled, as he turned to Conall. "You sure seem to be having some additional trouble."

"The War Dog brought me here," he stated, "but as I dislike misused authority…"

"You and me both," Greg agreed cheerfully. "So, I need a few more details. Badger didn't give me a whole lot to go on. He basically just told me to move my ass and to get here, so here I am." He looked from Conall to Bethany. "Now, give me a reason to go tear apart local law enforcement."

"Oh, you can have all of mine," she declared and launched into a long monologue about the three ruffians who stole free goods from the café all the time, then about Mel stealing the petty cash for Page, followed by Page copying her keys to enter her clinic to steal her drugs there, plus about Jake and his buddy who were just here, waving guns in their faces, and the smack that she had taken to her face.

When Greg heard that, he looked at her face, frowned, tilted it from side to side, and frowned. "We'll need to get photos of that."

She shrugged. "According to those deputies, Jake and his buddy were the ones making the complaint against me," she decided, "so it won't make a damn bit of difference."

"But I'm not them," Greg reminded her.

"Good enough," she muttered, but still she looked over at Conall. "Do you really think Greg will accomplish anything here?"

"He'll do what he can do," Conall said, "and we will take it from there."

She groaned. "Okay, fine. I'll let you take some pictures."

With that, Greg pulled out his phone and quickly took several photos of her face. "Now I need a timeline for when this all happened. And hopefully some idea of what it has to do with the War Dog."

She shook her head. "I don't know if it has anything to do with Bacchus," she admitted, turning to look at Conall.

"I'm not sure it does either," he agreed, with a shrug. "Except for the fact that, as soon as I got here, I got a good look at this town's underbelly. Me, an outsider. These punks have the locals all tight-lipped and doing what they say, but not me. So everything snowballed, and things got pretty rough." He then went into a tirade about what he had seen while here.

"So, nobody in law enforcement gives a crap?" Greg asked.

"Nope," Conall stated, "nobody seems to give a crap. You have a small town with ruffians running wild over the citizens, with no repercussions for their actions, and now we have a couple thieves in love who are stealing from various people, including a disabled veteran," he added, and he told him about Michael and the way the bank manager had reacted.

At that, Greg's face thinned, and he shook his head. "That will be a separate case," he stated. "There should never be that kind of elder abuse, particularly against any of our veterans."

"You and I both know they get targeted more than they should."

"They sure do," Greg muttered. He thought about it and added, "I definitely have something I can work with here. The question is whether I'll stop it or not."

"I don't know," Conall admitted. "I'm not sure exactly what it is that you do."

"One of the things I do," he shared, with a smirk, "is investigate law enforcement organizations and individuals who aren't doing their jobs. Generally citizen complaints get me called in," he explained, "which is why Badger gave me a shout."

"Interesting," Bethany muttered, staring at him. "I didn't even know there was such a thing."

"You can bet law enforcement doesn't like to let anybody know, and we don't interfere unless we have to," Greg stated, "but apparently, in this case, we need to."

"Yes," she snapped, "you do."

He chuckled, looked over at Conall. "Is she always this feisty, or just when she's riled?"

"I haven't known her all that long," Conall shared, with a smile, "but she does have good cause. It's her mother, Rosalind, who owns the diner, or co-owns it with Old Joe, I guess. That's where Jake and his crew keep going in and shaking them down, without paying. Interesting that they can be bothered doing petty stuff like that, but yet you said you have two separate cases here." Conall frowned at Greg.

"Yes, two separate cases, unless they dovetail now somehow," Greg stated, "and I won't be at all surprised if they do."

"You expect that to happen?" Bethany asked Conall.

Conall frowned. "Notreally. I would have expected the young kids to leave town. These are the ones who stole from Michael, stole the petty cash from your business, then went back with copied keys, wielding a gun, shot at the floor in front of your feet." Conall faced Greg to include him more in this discussion. "Page already went back to Michael's place, and he chased him off, but Michael shouldn't be alone, which is why I've been staying there." Then he half smiled and faced Bethany again. "On the other hand, he may have a new romance brewing to keep him smiling through these next few difficult days."

"You're talking about Danny and his mom?" Bethany asked. "I never heard what all happened when you found the War Dog and everything."

He nodded. "Yes, apparently Michael and Mariam were sweethearts at one time, many years ago. Then, when he went off to war, she ended up staying behind and marrying somebody else."

"That would have been tough on him too," Greg noted. "That happened to a lot of blokes back then."

"It did, and that's a long time to wait for somebody," Bethany pointed out, turning to him. "I don't blame anybody for making decisions that they need to make."

"I don't either," Greg agreed, giving her half a smile. "It's more a case of whether something is here that we can use to make this a solid case or not."

"Tell me what you need from us or from the townsfolk," she said, "and I'll probably have lots of instances, maybe some witnesses or maybe not, but you should definitely talk to my mom about that too."

"I will," Greg stated, "and we need to talk to Michael."

At that, Conall nodded. "And soon too. I don't trust any of the punks around here at all."

Greg nodded. "I'll head over to talk to the sheriff and his staff members, and we will see what comes from that. I also want a copy of the report on what the ruffians outside accused you guys of doing because the minute a report is written up, we have to at least take a look at it," he explained, looking at Bethany apologetically.

"Great," she muttered. "So, here I am, the innocent victim. I find that they've already burgled their way into my apartment. Then I get beaten up and threatened at gunpoint, not to mention scared half to death, and they put in a false report, and we're the ones who have to go in and justify what happened."

"Kind of sounds like that's why they did it, doesn't it?" Greg asked.

"Sure does. So, in other words, what? The cops are helping them? We already knew that," she declared, raising both hands in frustration.

"Maybe, but, if the local authorities are actively helping them dodge the law, then we have a whole lot more in terms of avenues to getting rid of them," Greg pointed out, smiling.

"Getting rid of which ones though?" she asked. "Are we looking at getting rid of the bad cops? Those punks? Page and Mel? Any or all would be lovely, yet, in the end, it won't make a damn bit of difference. They may shut down the mill because of that idiot son of his. Then people will lose their jobs, and that won't make anybody happy here either."

"Which is why the status quo exists," Greg stated. "That's why everybody will have to choose a side on this."

"I already chose mine," Bethany declared. "My mom lives in fear every time Jake and his thugs show up."

"That's no way to exist," Greg murmured, looking at her, "so let's do this."

"What do we need to do?" she asked.

"Come on down to the station with me. We already have your statement," he said, holding up his phone, "as I recorded it. We'll go down and listen to theirs, and hopefully we can make some headway."

"What more do you need?" she asked.

Looking at Conall, Greg asked, "Any chance at cameras?"

Conall smiled and nodded. "I saw cameras outside, so we should take a look at those."

"Good." Then Greg asked Conall, "Why did you come inside, if you thought they were in here? I can't understand why would you come in?"

"I asked him not to," Bethany said glumly, "but he wouldn't let the riffraff ruin my life any more than it already was—or something to that effect."

Conall laughed. "Sometimes it's just better to face bullies head-on," he stated, "but, before we headed inside, Jake came up behind us with a gun and escorted us inside." Then he reached over and stroked her cheek, "All of that aside, I wish I could have stopped him from hitting you."

"What about you?" she said, turning and looking at him. "He dropped you to the ground."

He smiled and nodded. "He did, and I owe him one for that, but it's also a whole lot easier to drop and roll and take the blow, so they think I'm a cripple after all."

"Did he hurt you?" Greg asked, turning to look at him.

He shrugged. "Nope, I'm fine."

Bethany added, "He wears a prosthetic, and these guys knew it. So that was their idea of taking advantage."

Immediately Greg looked at Conall's leg and asked, "Don't suppose that's one of Kat's, is it?"

"Sure it is," Conall confirmed, with a smile, "and believe me, I'm blessed to have it."

"Damn, it would almost be worth losing a leg to get one of her fancy designs. Sorry, I know that's probably insulting, but I find her abilities fascinating."

"Oh, I get it, and look. I'm just wearing the plain-Jane model," he said, lifting his pant leg. "I'm hoping to get a fancy dress unit eventually, but we're not there yet. Kat has to fix the knee joint first. It isn't quite there yet."

"She doesn't charge you guys full cost either, does she?"

"She charges something for her time and the materials, but it's unbelievable how many hours she really puts in. Even afterward, she doesn't treat it like a final product to be sold, nor does she treat it like a full custom job, and yet it is," Conall explained, with a shrug. "Honestly they must be pretty well off to even begin to do what they're doing, yet kind enough to see it all through."

"Yeah, that would be Kat," Greg noted in a reminiscent tone. "I've known her a long time."

"I'm glad you were there to take her and Badger's call," Bethany stated. "We obviously need all the help we can get."

"Oh, it'll all come out in the wash," Greg promised, with a smile. "You would be amazed what can happen when somebody from my department shows up."

She looked over at him and smiled. "I'm really glad you're here to deal with the bullies."

His eyebrows shot up, and he looked over at Conall, who chuckled. "Honey, he's not here to deal with the bullies," he clarified. "Greg's here to patch up the law enforcement."

"Oh." She stared at Greg, yet asked Conall, "He can't do both?"

Conall replied, "To a certain extent, he can help with one or the other, but his real purpose for being here is to look at law enforcement who's not doing its job."

"Right." She winced. "That means we'll have to deal with the bullies."

"Yep, it sure does," Conall said cheerfully, "and I, for one, can't wait."