Point Pleasant

by Wood, Jen Archer

  Nicholas moved closer, and Ben put himself between the two men.

  “All right, stow your junk, boys,” he said.

  “Tell you what,” Dawson said, seeming unfazed as he turned to his desk. He draped himself in his chair and kicked his feet up once again. “I’ll help. I’ll do whatever you need me to do.”

  “I sense a ‘but’ coming on,” Ben said.

  “But I have my conditions,” Dawson said.

  “What conditions?” Nicholas asked from behind Ben.

  Dawson settled his smile on Nicholas. “We all have a price, Sheriff. What’s yours?”

  Ben spared a glance over his shoulder to Nicholas, who clenched his jaw and drew his hands into fists as they hung at his sides.

  “Drop your case,” Dawson continued. “Nobody here needs to know about Atlanta. It’d ruin my business, send me under, and take away the economic value I bring to your fair town.”

  “Don’t act like you’re here on honest terms,” Nicholas shot back. “You’re hiding out, plain and simple. You think nobody will find you hiding in the middle of fuckshit West Virginia, but you can’t shake a criminal record.”

  “Stop poking your nose in my affairs,” Dawson said through clenched teeth. “And don’t pretend to be all high and mighty when you’ve come to me for help. I assume whatever you two are up to isn’t exactly in line with the law. If that’s the case, I might just be your man. I also assume whatever you’re planning isn’t quite danger-free, or you’d be asking someone else. Someone you think would actually be missed.” He paused and cast a knowing look between the two of them. “I’m a crack shot with a rifle. My daddy and me used to shoot skeet every weekend. And I promise I won’t even accidentally slip and shoot you by mistake, Sheriff.”

  “Is that what you told the officials in Fulton County?” Nicholas asked. “That you slipped?”

  Dawson laced his hands behind his head and reclined in his chair. Ben was reminded of his previous notion that Dawson was not your typical shark but rather that he bore the toothy grin of a friendly orca—friendly, of course, until he bit you in half.

  “You’ve read the reports, Sheriff,” Dawson said. “Don’t play dumb, though I must say it suits you.”

  “We’re done here,” Nicholas said. “Ben, let’s go.”

  “Fuck,” Ben uttered under his breath.

  “Offer’s only on the table once,” Dawson replied as he eyed Nicholas. “All you have to do is give me your word right now. I’ll shake your hand as a gentleman’s agreement. If you need someone that badly, you’ve got him. And you won’t be throwing any of your precious townsfolk into harm’s way. I’ll even let Preston James over here tie a bow around me, but that’s just ‘cause he’s pretty.”

  “I’ll be finalizing my case without your assistance tonight, Dawson. And when I ship your sorry ass back to Atlanta for the trial, I’ll be sure to send you one of your fucking muffin baskets,” Nicholas said, fixing a withering gaze on Dawson. “As always, it’s been a pleasure.”

  “Go fuck yourself,” Dawson said, meeting Nicholas’ glare with a scowl of his own. “You think you’re so much better than me?”

  “Ben, now,” Nicholas said, his tone sharp as he held open the door.

  Ben headed out of the office without looking back at Dawson. Nicholas slammed the door, leaving Dawson to curse on the other side.

  Outside the café, the I-told-you-so look on Nicholas’ face was so infuriating that Ben had to turn away.

  “Any other bright ideas, Wiseass?” Nicholas asked with a haughty tone to match his expression.

  “You could have fucking mentioned he’s a suspect for murder,” Ben said, and he stared off across the desolate square.

  “What, him being disbarred for corruption was okay on your morality chart?” Nicholas asked, scoffing.

  Once again, Ben felt like taking a swing at the sheriff. Instead, he strode toward the fountain.

  “Where are you going now?” Nicholas yelled.

  Ben did not reply, but he heard the sound of Nicholas footsteps when he apparently realized that Ben was headed toward Town Hall. Ben broke out into a sprint and leapt up the front steps that led to the main entrance and yanked the weighty glass door open. He pulled the door shut behind him and smiled as he clicked its bulky lock into place, marveling over the fact that a government building would even have accessible locks, especially in light of the town’s modernization. Nevertheless, he was grateful for the diversion it offered in that moment. And for the fact that reception seemed to be vacant at the weekends.

  Nicholas seized the door handles and heaved to no avail. Ben gave a little wave when the door did not budge. An antique sofa sat several feet away in the small waiting area of the entry hall. Its brass feet screeched against the marble floor when Ben dragged it in front of the door as a temporary barricade. He turned his back on Nicholas, who was fumbling at his belt for his ring of keys, and took to the stairs.

  The mayor’s office was at the end of a long corridor on the third floor. Silas Stewart sat behind his desk, hunched over paperwork, with his door open. Ben walked straight into the office and snapped the door shut behind him.

  Stewart jerked upright in alarm. “What the hell are you doing?”

  “I’m here to talk some sense into you,” Ben said, taking a seat in one of the chairs that stood before the desk. “It’s nice to see you hard at work on a Sunday. Do you always put in such long hours, or is it just easier to hide your tail between your legs when you’re wearing such a fancy suit?”

  Stewart’s eyes grew wide when Ben kicked his feet onto the desktop just as Dawson had done in the rear room of the café.

  “Mr. Wisehart,” Stewart said as he rose from the chair. “You will leave my office immediately.”

  “No, Silas, I don’t think I will,” Ben replied with a conversational lilt to his voice. “Because we have a situation, and we need your help.”

  “I’ve already spoken to Sheriff Nolan about this. If you don’t get your muddy feet off my desk and your damn fool ass out of my office right this instant, I will have him drag you off to a holding cell.”

  “Oh, he’s downstairs. I locked him out, so we have a few minutes to talk before he comes charging in like a hero.”

  “You’re insane,” Stewart replied.

  “No, you are.”

  Anger darkened Stewart’s features, and he reached for his phone.

  “The phone lines are dead, and I’m not leaving until you hear me out.”

  “There’s nothing to hear out,” Stewart replied.

  “Oh, but there is,” Ben snapped. “As I was saying, we have a situation, and we need you. This is your town, sir. Yours. You’re the goddamn mayor, and Point Pleasant needs you.”

  Stewart dropped the receiver into its cradle. The weary expression of a man who had toiled under some heavy weight for far too long settled across his otherwise stolid features. “I’m an old man, Wisehart. There’s not much I’m going to be able to help with.”

  “Bill Tucker’s older than you!”

  “That old fool,” Stewart said with a snort.

  “That old fool’s done more to look out for Point Pleasant in the last couple of days than you have, sir.”

  “You have no right to come into my office, in my town, and talk to me like this, boy. I don’t care how famous you think you are.”

  “Someone has to,” Ben replied, opting to ignore the insult. “This town is about to go to hell. Literally. Your town, sir. And you can do something to save it! But you’re sitting here filing paper work? The fuck? You were friends with my dad. You used to go hunting together. Remember when you shot that buck? That massive thing. You kept the antlers, didn’t you?”

  Stewart remained quiet, but he gave a faint nod.

  “You know,” Ben started, slumping in his chair, “since I came back to Point Pleasant, all I’ve found out is that the men I used to respect and admire when I was growing up here are just glorified cowards. And that the old
recluse who lives on the edge of town has more valor in his toenails than any of you idiots have combined.”

  The door to the office burst open, and Nicholas appeared, flanked by two security guards. The sheriff’s face was red with a combination of rage and embarrassment.

  “Ahoy there, Sheriff,” Ben said with mock enthusiasm. “The mayor and I were just having a little chat.”

  “Sir, I’m so sorry,” Nicholas said and grabbed a set of handcuffs from his duty belt. “He got away from me. I’ll escort him out immediately.”

  Ben rolled his eyes to the mayor, who held up a hand to Nicholas.

  “It’s fine, Sheriff. Wait outside.”

  Nicholas hesitated. “Sir—”

  “Outside, Nolan.”

  Nicholas straightened and stalked out of the office without another word. The guards followed.

  Stewart faced the window behind his desk. “I’m not a coward,” he said finally.

  “Then prove it,” Ben said. “Help us. We need you. Your town needs you. They don’t need a mayor or a sheriff who sits behind a desk and signs their John Hancocks to stack after stack of red tape. They need the people in charge to take charge. To keep them safe, to consider their best interests like you swore to do when you took the damn job.”

  Stewart kept his back to Ben, but he seemed to be listening. Ben felt a ripple of hope and continued.

  “You’ve all been pretending everything’s fine, but there’s something hugely wrong, sir. It’s big, and it’s scary, and I don’t blame you for not wanting to get involved, but you have an obligation. You have a duty. And you won’t be alone. We can deal with this, all of this. By tomorrow morning, Point Pleasant will be better for it. You’ll be a better mayor for it.”

  “Your daddy was a good man,” Stewart said, sinking into his chair. “I was mighty sorry to hear he passed. He was my favorite hunting partner.”

  “Thank you,” Ben replied stiffly, and anxiety bubbled through him as he regarded Stewart, whose dark forehead crinkled from the contemplative frown that tugged down the corners of his lips as if they were weighted with sandbags.

  “What do you need me to do?” Stewart asked at last.

  “We just need you to meet us in the square at five o’clock,” Ben said, offering a smile of genuine relief. “Tucker has the shotguns ready at his place. We’ll go to the factory and do whatever comes next.”

  “You make it sound like a stroll through the square,” Stewart said with a scoff.

  “It might be. It might not. But at least we’ll be doing something.”

  Stewart laced his fingers together and a deep, resigned sigh escaped his lips. “I’ll see you at five, Wisehart.”

  Ben shot up out of his seat and grinned. He put his hand over the desk, and Stewart eyed it with bemusement before he stood and shook it with a firm grasp.

  “See you at five, sir,” Ben said and stepped back. “Sorry for bursting in like that.”

  “No you’re not,” Stewart said. His demeanor was grim, but his lips quirked slightly.

  “You’re right,” Ben said with a shrug. He headed toward the door. “I’ll just leave this open,” he said over his shoulder before he walked out.

  Nicholas and the two security guards were waiting for Ben in the corridor. One of them moved to Ben’s right side and grabbed him by the arm, and the other guard seized his left elbow.

  “Hey, guys, it’s fine,” Ben said. “The mayor and me, we’re buddies.”

  The guards said nothing as they dragged Ben down the corridor. Ben felt a fresh swell of delirium when they steered him down the stairs and threw him out the front door.

  “Oh, come on. It wasn’t that bad,” Ben said as he stumbled. “He was cool with it.”

  Fury was etched into the lines of Nicholas’ face as he skipped the last two steps, seized Ben’s left arm, and pulled him along toward the station.

  “Jesus, Nic. I got him on our side! He’s going to show up at five and ride out with us.”

  “In all the years I wanted to talk to you, I never thought it would be to tell you to just shut the fuck up.”

  “Are you arresting me again?” Ben asked, losing his victorious smile.

  “I fucking should.”

  “Go on, then.”

  Nicholas released Ben’s arm and recoiled as if he had grabbed the barrel of a freshly fired gun and seared his hand on the metal. “Are you actually trying to get me sacked? Or are you just content to completely humiliate me?”

  “Nothing personal, Sheriff,” Ben said, scratching the nape of his neck as he glanced at his feet. He gathered himself and faced Nicholas again. “It had to be done.”

  “You’re unbelievable.”

  “Yeah, well, I got him to agree. We have our seventh. That’s all that matters.”

  Several emotions flashed through Nicholas’ eyes all at once. Ben tried to catch each one, but Nicholas withdrew several paces to place even more distance between them.

  “Good for you, Ben,” he said and turned to head toward the Sheriff’s Department.

  “I was so fucking stupid,” Ben called out. “It’s always you turning your back on me, isn’t it? I was wrong when I said we’re both different people now. You’re exactly the same, Nolan.”

  Nicholas paused and clenched his right hand into a fist.

  Ben refused to watch Nicholas walk away. He followed one of the pathways that led to the center of the square and sank down on a bench that overlooked the recently drained fountain.

  He had been stupid. He had been a complete fucking idiot to let himself think this would have ended any other way. Ben would always be the one who had been left standing in the dark, overexposed like a roll of ruined film, while Nicholas walked off to better things. If everyone had a set of shoes to fill as Marietta had claimed, then Ben imagined his were a size too small and knew he could never hope to fit into them.

  The leather cord around Ben’s neck rubbed like a noose, and he dropped his face in his hands to still the urge to rip the arrowhead from his neck and heave it into the dry fountain.

  Oh fucking well.

  After a moment, the bench shifted under the added weight of another body. Nicholas perched on the edge and fumbled with his hands as if he wanted to reach out and put one on Ben’s shoulder but would not allow himself the contact. Ben stared off at the fountain and found that he had nothing more to say.

  “I don’t want to end it like this,” Nicholas said. “I don’t want it to end at all,” he added, though there was caution in his voice.

  “And I don’t want to hear this, Nicholas,” Ben replied, trying to ignore the pained expression Nicholas adopted when Ben used his full name.

  “I thought—I thought we were good after the other night. I don’t know how this happened, Ben.”

  “It was a mistake, you said it before. It shouldn’t have happened.”

  “I didn’t mean that.”

  “It’s hard to un-say.”

  “Ben, I really didn’t mean it. I don’t even know why I said it. Can we talk about this? We can go to the house.”

  “I’m good right here,” Ben said.

  “Please,” Nicholas whispered. “I don’t want this to be how it ends.”

  “It ended hours ago in your entry hall,” Ben said, the words ringing like the faulty chime of a broken bell. “That can be your memory of how this ended because it sure as hell will always be mine.”

  Nicholas bowed his head and covered his face with his hands.

  “Pull yourself together, Sheriff,” Ben said, though his use of the title was strictly professional. “You probably have work to do.”

  Nicholas remained in his position. Ben pursed his lips and fixed his focus on the fountain. When Nicholas finally moved, it was to wipe at his red-rimmed eyes.

  “Fuck,” Nicholas said. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. We can pretend it never happened. We’ll finish off this thing in the forest tonight, and I’ll go back to Boston just like you said I
would. I can go back to being me without you, and you can be you without me, and then everything’s back to its regular fucking schedule.”

  “Ben, stop it,” Nicholas said, his tone sharp and pleading. “I don’t want any of that. Christ, I want you to stay! How many ways can I tell you that?”

  “Maybe you should lock me up again to hammer in the point. Show me what life with you would be like. I want you in my house, Ben. I want you in my bed, Ben. Don’t run away, or I’ll lock you up in my jail, Ben.”

  “Is that what you think?”

  “Yeah, it is.” Ben gave a bitter laugh and stood to pace in front of the bench. “And you know the thing that makes me angry? I liked being in your house. I fucking loved being in your bed. I liked having you be there and wanting me there. I loved it, all of it, but what the hell am I even supposed to think after last night?”

  “You’re right,” Nicholas said. “I’ve been trying to keep you close because I’m terrified you will leave again. You left before, and you never came back. You never came back, Ben!”

  Ben shoved his hands into the back pockets of his jeans and said nothing.

  “I’m sorry,” Nicholas said when he realized Ben did not intend to respond. “I have no intention to keep you under lock and key. All I wanted was for you to know how much I want you here. And with everything else, I need you to be safe. If something happens to you in all this while you’re doing what I should have done a long time ago, then that’s on me! That’s something I have to live with for the rest of my life, and I don’t know that I can do that.”

  “I’ll be fine,” Ben replied. “And if I’m not, it was my decision to put myself in the situation. Mine. Not yours. And you have to respect that. I’m not one of your officers you can order around. I’m not one of the townspeople you can glare into silence. This was never going to work because you don’t get that.”

  “Fair enough,” Nicholas said, his throat straining visibly as he swallowed. “But you’re just as at fault. You keep doing the exact opposite of everything I ask. I’m not trying to order you around, but you haven’t given me much choice. I mean, Christ, that stunt with the mayor!”

  “I got him on our side, didn’t I?”