Changes Coming Down

by Kaje Harper

  “Hey, Max. Are you still doing that security crap?”

  “Yeah, Casey, I’m still doing that crap. What do you need?”

  “What would you charge me to send someone out to sweep a place for bugs?”

  “Send there, as in your hometown?”

  “Yeah. In fact, my home.”

  There was a moment’s silence. “Do you just suspect a bug? Or you know you have one?”

  “Know. At least one.”

  “Hell, I’ll come myself. No charge.”

  Casey was warmed by the offer. “I can pay.”

  “Bullshit. Tell me how fast you need me. Will tomorrow do?”

  “Tomorrow’s fine. Thank you.” He gave Max the details and hung up.

  Will sighed theatrically. “There go my plans for the night. I’m not cut out to be a porn star.”

  Casey had to agree. “We’ll find somewhere else to sleep. He can’t have bugged the whole ranch. And there’s one good thing— he threatened to tell Scott. Which means he doesn’t know we fuck Scott.”

  “True.” Will sighed. “A hundred thousand dollars. He’s sure we can get that.”

  “It’s no secret we own the ranch free and clear. That’s a fraction of the value. Not a problem.”

  “It’s also exactly how much you have left of your mom’s gift. Could it be someone who knows about that?”

  Casey couldn’t see how. “You, me, Scott, Mom, Dad. I don’t think so.”

  They looked glumly at each other.

  Will said, “So now what? Do we pay him? Come out to the world and foil his plans? What?”

  “We need to talk to Scott. But…” Suspicion burgeoned in Casey’s mind. “I want to catch this guy. I really want to. Someone paid to get the Slaters’ killed, and though we don’t know who or why, money’s definitely on the list of motives. Now here’s someone blackmailing us for money. What’re the odds that’s related?”

  “I’m not following. You think if we catch this guy, we’ll find the hit-and-run driver?”

  “The guy who hired the driver, yeah. Since the truck driver claims he can’t identify him, this might be an alternate route.”

  “Wait.” Will stared at him. “The guy who did what?”

  Damn. He’d forgotten Will knew nothing about the case beyond that one basic fact of hit-and-run. He hadn’t told Will about Lila’s testimony or the driver being arrested on the East Coast or any hint of murder. Casey fumbled, trying to explain without giving all the details, but felt like he was making a hash of it.

  When he was done, Will frowned. “Okay. I might be too tired to make sense of this, but I’m getting the idea there was a lot you knew, that you didn’t trust me with.”

  “It wasn’t trust. You’re too close to the investigation.”

  “Like there’s a chance I might’ve hired the guy? Am I a suspect?”

  Casey’s anger was sharper for knowing that in fact Will ought to be treated that way. Casey’d had to put Will’s picture in the photo lineup, even though he knew it was bullshit. Just so he could say he’d been thorough. “Dammit, Will, be reasonable!”

  “I think I’m very reasonable. You didn’t have to tell me names or whatever. All I needed is to know that the man who killed Annmarie and Graham is behind bars. How was that too much to ask? What were you thinking?”

  Casey thought fast. “There was a chance he might’ve got bail. You’d have hated that; you might’ve tried to go after him.”

  “No, Case, that’s your style. You take things into your own hands. I don’t!”

  Will was right. Casey was the one who got mad and fucked things up. He wanted to apologize, but his damned temper rose. “Look, I do the police work my way. If I say it’s not your business, it’s not! Got it?”

  “Except when it totally concerns me.”

  “Even then. Dammit, Will, you’ve got me the other half of the day. You’ll have me full-time soon. This part you don’t own!”

  Will stared at him. “What the hell?”

  Casey wasn’t even sure what he meant. “Don’t tell me how to do my damned job! You’ve done enough.”

  “I what?”

  “I have too much on my plate. The job, this ranch. Now this recording, on top of everything else. I was going to leave the job as the better sheriff, who got out-advertised but not out-worked. Now there’s a chance I’ll go out as the fag sheriff who was fucking that ranch hand.”

  “Meaning me.”

  “Well, yeah.”

  “And that’s somehow my fault?” Will backed up a step. “Damn you.” He whirled on his heel.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Out.”

  “We have to call Scott.”

  Will hesitated a second, then snarled, “You’re so sure you know how everything should be handled? You call him.” He slammed his way out of the tack room and his booted footfalls receded down the aisle.

  “Fuck!” Casey whirled and punched the nearest saddle. It slipped on the peg but didn’t fall off. He hit it again. “Fuck! Fuck!” The third blow sent it to the floor in a tangle of girth and stirrups. He almost punched the peg, but at the last moment pulled the blow. His fingers tingled and ached. He worked his hand morosely, but it appeared he hadn’t broken anything.

  Now what? He needed to get the blackmail letter and thumb drive to a lab for prints. Except as soon as he did that, the secret might come out. Anyone who listened to that file would know. That was what blackmail was about, after all— making the victim pay because there was no safe way to go after them without revealing your secret. Shit.

  He sat on the dusty concrete floor. The chill seeped into his flesh quickly, but he didn’t care.

  He’d always meant to come out, someday. In the military it hadn’t been possible. Not back then. Some of the guys had probably suspected. He thought Max had been one of the men carefully not asking, so he wouldn’t be tempted to tell. Max had a wife and two little kids, but he never used homophobic language around Casey. A time or two he’d even headed off someone else’s rant, so Casey thought he might’ve had a clue. But there was no way to get beyond that.

  When he left the Corps, he’d considered living out and proud. Except the jobs he wanted were all in law enforcement and that was no picnic either. There was little chance of getting hired if he was known to be gay. Then he landed his hometown sheriff’s job and was mostly his own boss, but he had a crowd of deputies who didn’t know him and who needed to respect and obey him. Then he’d met Scott, who had even better reasons not to risk it…

  Now all that bullshit except Scott’s was going away, but he realized the idea of coming out still chilled him to the bone. He wondered if perhaps he’d gone into law enforcement after the service because it meant not changing. Not opening himself up for people to see. Maybe he was more of a coward than he thought.

  He clenched his teeth. No motherfucking bastard should have the right to force this on him. On them. On Will, with a crowd of cowboys he had to command. On Scott, at risk for getting sucked into the mess with them. He was heartsick at what this might mean for Scott. His heart pounded, thinking about Scott losing his chance at his dream because of some greedy son of a bitch.

  Why the hell did it matter if they were gay? He surged to his feet, breathing hard. In what way was a guy like Will, or like Scott, or like him, less than, because they liked to suck cock? Scott could flatten a two-hundred pound straight guy with a clean check and skate away whistling. He’d seen Will wrestle a steer to the ground and tie it, without ever losing his hat or breaking a sweat. And he’d also seen Scott moaning while Will pounded his ass, and none of it made them more or less of a man than the next guy. Shit!

  Instead of punching another saddle, he bent over and picked up the tumbled one. He straightened the blanket, set the saddle back on its peg, and flipped the girth over. Set things to rights. Controlled his breathing. He still wanted to hit something, and he wanted a drink. More than one drink. But maybe at the age of thirty-three it was time h
e grew up.

  He debated going after Will, but pulled out his phone and dialed Scott instead.

  “Hey, Casey,” Scott said calmly. “I was waiting for you to call.”

  “You were? Um, we have a problem.”

  “So Will said, but he wouldn’t tell me what until you were on the line. Here, let me conference you.”

  “He what?”

  Will’s voice came over the line. “Took you long enough.”

  “Hey, Will.” Casey swallowed. “I’m sorry.”

  “Should be, you bastard, and we’ll talk about it later. But right now, we have some decisions to make.”

  Scott asked, “Are you two going to explain what this is about?”

  Will said, “You tell him. I’m still mad.”

  Casey said, “We got a little present in the mail. A tape, well, a recording on a thumb drive, of Will and me in bed.”

  There was a moment of silence and then Scott whispered, “Oh, fuck.”

  “Yeah. The guy wants money. A hundred grand. I have that much, that’s not the issue. But if we give it to him once, the odds are he’ll just ask for more.”

  “I don’t want to give in even once. But hell, this is the absolute wrong moment for me. The Leafs head coach was at the game tonight.”

  “The blackmailer only mentions me and Will, so you may be in the clear for now.”

  “I’m not leaving you two to face that shit alone. We’re in this together, whatever the bastard does.”

  “Thanks.” He wished Scott was there so he could see the blazing indignation on his face. Scotty was fucking perfect when he was taking up a cause. “But we’ll see how it comes out before we throw you to the wolves. There’s another wrinkle. I think the blackmailer might be the same person who paid to have the Slaters killed.”

  “Who what?”

  Will said, “You didn’t tell Scott either?”

  “It was police business. I didn’t tell the details to anyone who didn’t need to know.”

  “Tell me now,” Scott said firmly.

  Odd how he’d stood up to Will on that, but wanted to tell Scott everything. For a moment more he battled with his conscience, but he needed to show the guys he trusted them, even with this. He laid it out for both of them, every detail. “The driver refused to identify anyone, but I figure there are three main suspects. Landon, to support his lifestyle. He’s not broke, but he lives pretty close to the edge, likes fine things and plays the market.”

  “But to actually kill his own grandparents?” Will said.

  “Maybe not.” The guy hadn’t looked too broken up at the funeral. “Could be Peterson, who is broke, and might’ve been counting on the hefty sales commission. Five percent of three point eight mil is a hundred and ninety thousand bucks. I had a deputy run down his credit and he’s maxed out everywhere. Then Cobalt Energy, the not-so-secret buyers who made the previous offer. I checked them out. It’s a tiny company, and Grieg and Sims are the owners. They made one good find, then one bad purchase, in the last couple years. They’re rumored to be looking for the next hot property, and the people who sold them the good site say they were tricked out of the full value.”

  Will muttered, “You’ve been busy.”

  “I want to solve this before it becomes Todd’s case and he stops looking, in favor of a quick conviction for a coke-loving truck driver. That’d be his easy way out, you know. If he goes after the money man, then no matter which one’s guilty, he has some kind of tie to them. Peterson supported his bid for sheriff and stood with the ‘new-broom’ community leaders for him and the mayor-elect. Landon and Cobalt Energy both supported his campaign. Better for him not to know.”

  Scott said, “Would he do that? Sweep it under the rug?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe that’s too harsh, but I wouldn’t bet on him pursuing it hard. He’ll be plenty busy, learning the ropes.”

  Scott said, “Why would Landon bother to support Todd? He doesn’t live here. Unless he’s guilty and knows he has a better shot with you out of office?”

  “It doesn’t have to be that sinister,” Will said. “Landon always resented me, and he knows Casey’s my friend.”

  “I still think it’s suspicious.”

  Casey said, “Maybe. I’m going to keep investigating. The truck driver denied knowing any of them in a photo lineup. He says he was in a bar when he realized a guy in the booth behind him was on the phone, trying to buy off a big loan with ten thou, at pennies on the dollar. The loan shark wasn’t budging. Somehow, it came out that the guy had a windfall coming if only some old couple was dead. After the man hung up, our guy slid into the booth and offered to make any hypothetical old couple go away, for that same ten thousand.”

  “Just like that, he offered to commit murder?”

  “He has no conscience and no brakes, and a bad coke habit. I’m more fascinated by the fact that he was taken up on the offer. But I guess our guy was desperate, and there was a man with a big truck, and victims who drove an old pickup around these hilly roads. Perfect storm kind of timing.”

  “And days later, two good people are dead,” Will said bitterly.

  “Yeah. But it didn’t work out like the guy hoped, one assumes. You got the ranch, and the sale was private. No commission, no fracking.”

  “But Landon did get almost two million.”

  “He did,” Casey agreed. “Less than he’d hoped, but a hell of a lot more than a mere hundred grand. Why would he take this big risk for that little bit more? If the blackmailer is the killer, it’s more likely Peterson or one of the Cobalt guys. Or both of them.”

  Will said, “The blackmail might be unrelated. One of the hands, or someone else who suspected us and saw a bunch of money floating around.”

  “It might be. Although it seems rather high-tech for a ranch hand. I’d expect a basic note. ‘Pay up or I’ll tell the local paper.’ Not a recording.”

  “What should we do?” Scott asked.

  Casey sighed. “I say we go along with it for now. Act like we’re going to pay. Try to trap him and keep you out of it.”

  “And if you can’t keep it quiet?”

  Will said, “Then we’re out— the two of us— and we’ll tell you exactly how it’s going down, and you decide then. You deserve to be in the NHL. I don’t want any blackmailing douchecanoe spoiling it for you.”

  Scott actually laughed. “You’re going to make me regret ever using that word around you.”

  “I like it. It fits this slimeball.”

  Casey said, “Nothing is happening tonight. Tomorrow, I’m going to get a friend of mine to check the house for bugs. Then we’ll see.”

  “Crap.” Scott took a breath. “Yeah, the house is bugged. Shit. Do me one thing though.”

  “What?”

  “Don’t sleep alone. I get that you won’t want to use the big house. Maybe not even Will’s trailer. But whatever you do, do it together.”

  Will said cautiously, from wherever he was with his phone, “We were kind of fighting. Arguing.”

  “I figured. But I can’t be there and I need not to worry about how you’re doing, so make up enough to hold each other. Okay?”

  Casey wanted to say that was easier said than done, but he realized he wanted it too. Wanted to be with Will. “Yeah. William, I’m sorry I was an idiot.”

  Will grunted. “Dammit, Casey, you can be a bastard, but yeah, I don’t want to be alone either. I’ll meet you at my trailer.”

  Scott said, “Keep in touch. Let me know what happens. Everything. Even if I have a game that night, don’t hide stuff, okay?”

  Casey sighed, and caved. “I promise.”

  “Love you both.”

  “You too,” he said.

  “You too,” Will echoed him.

  ***

  Will’s phone buzzed in his pocket at just the wrong moment. The filly jumped sideways under him and bucked, pretending to spook at a leaf fluttering along the corral fence. He kept his seat and ignored the phone. She was
going to learn to keep her jog easy and her head down if it killed both of them, and Will tensing up in the saddle wasn’t the way to do it.

  “Whoa, baby, jughead, stupid,” Will murmured in a soothing tone, relaxing his spine and nudging her forward with his legs. “Jogging nice and easy. Come on, baby.”

  It took ten minutes before she finally made a couple of circuits of the ring at a good even pace, her mouth soft on the bit. As a reward he swung open the gate and let her move out at a fast lope. They cut through the now-stubbled cornfield. He leaned over her withers and urged her on. The lope became a gallop, the pounding of hooves on the dirt his favorite music. She was damned fast and he had a moment’s regret that there was nowhere nearby to race Quarter Horses, but after a few minutes, he reined her in and headed them back to the barn, forcing her to walk and cool down. Only when he’d finally vaulted off and had her in the cross-ties, did he pull out the phone. There was a missed call from Casey and a text.

  ~Big house

  He unsaddled the filly and turned her out in the field, before heading up there. Casey’s friend Max had arrived at noon but Will hadn’t wanted to take time to see what was happening. Or to ping the guy’s gaydar by hanging over Casey’s shoulder. Max’s car was gone from the parking area now. Will took a deep breath and pushed open the door.

  Casey was in the study at the desk. He said, “We’re okay in here. Keep your voice down, though.”

  Will dropped in the other chair. “What’s the word?”

  “Max found three bugs. Our main bedroom, Scott’s, and the bathroom.”

  “They can’t have been there long, or he’d know for a fact we’re doing Scott.”

  “Right. You might ask the hands casually if they’ve seen any strangers or cars about in the last week. Or if they heard the dogs barking. You and I were down at the diner the day after Scott left, when you bought me dinner. Someone could’ve come up here in the dark then.”

  Will gritted his teeth. He hated thinking about someone spying, hearing what he said to Casey that was private between the two of them. “What did you do with the bugs?”