Brother's Keeper

by Richard Ryker

  “Not him,” Emma said.

  The boy reached out and gave Brandon a stiff handshake. “I’m Zach.”

  “Nice to meet you, Zach. Now, someone tell me what the hell happened.”

  “I was leaving work and this old truck started following me really close, swerving back and forth. I pulled over to let them pass, and it stopped too. I saw someone getting out of the car, so I took off and headed through a bunch of back streets.”

  “Why didn’t you come home first?”

  “I didn’t want them to know where I lived,” she said. “They kept following me, so I called Zach because I knew he was still at work.”

  Why hadn’t she called Brandon, her dad? And the chief of police.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” she said. “I didn’t want to bother you.”

  “You’re never bothering me, Em. Especially when it comes to your safety,” Brandon said.

  She stared down at her shaking hands.

  “What happened next?” Brandon asked, looking to Zach.

  “She pulled up in front of Carl’s,” Zach said. “And I came out with the baseball bat.”

  “The what?”

  “We keep a bat in the store,” he said.

  “Okay.”

  “He was right behind her.”

  “When he saw me,” Zach said, puffing his chest out, “The guy took off.”

  “Did you get a look at him?” Brandon asked.

  “It’s obvious who it was,” Zach said.

  “Why?”

  Zach looked to Emma. “It’s the same guy who left the note on your car.”

  “What note?” Brandon asked.

  “It’s not a big deal,” Emma said.

  “What note?” Brandon demanded.

  She reached into her purse and pulled out a folded piece of notebook paper. The note read, YOU’RE DAD KILLED MY SISTER. YOUR BOTH DEAD TOO.

  “Funny how he got your and you’re mixed up,” Zach said.

  Brandon stared back at the kid.

  “Zach,” Brandon said. “I’m not worried about grammar. I’m concerned with why my daughter thought it was okay to hide this from me.”

  “It was only this afternoon,” she said. “Besides, Zach can protect me.”

  Brandon considered the kid. He was at least six foot two. Thick arms, almost barrel-chested. “You play football?” Brandon asked.

  Zach nodded grimly, his impression of badass.

  “Great, but your football helmet and baseball bat won’t stop bullets. These are dangerous people. With guns.”

  “We know that, dad.”

  He resisted the urge to remind her that no, she obviously did not. “Who left the note on your car?”

  She paused. “That’s why I didn’t want to say anything.”

  “Who?” he demanded.

  “Matthew Nygard,” she said.

  “Jack Nygard’s son?”

  “I guess,” she said.

  “Has he threatened you before?”

  “No,” she said. “I mean, I think he’s blaming you for his sister’s death.”

  “What did the truck look like?” Brandon asked.

  “It was big, but with a canopy built in,” Zach said. “It reminded me of one of the old Internationals my uncle used to collect.”

  He was describing an International Scout. There weren’t many around now, so it shouldn’t be too hard to connect the vehicle to Nygard’s son.

  “What color?” Brandon asked.

  “Yellow, I think,” Zach said.

  “Did you get the license plate?”

  They both stared back at him. He had to remind himself they were kids, not cops.

  “What are you going to do?” Emma asked.

  “File this as evidence,” he said, waving the letter. “Take a statement from both of you. In other words, do things the right way.”

  The next morning, Brandon dropped Emma off in front of the high school. He waited until she’d entered the building before driving a block away, where he parked his SUV and headed straight for the principal’s office.

  Janice Lewis had been principal of Forks High School for about ten years, Brandon learned, so she was too young to have been around in his day but was an old-timer in terms of the school administration. They’d had a hard time recruiting out-of-towners to come in and teach the kids in a place as remote as Forks. Some teachers chose to live up in Port Angeles rather than in town. Apparently, immunity from small-town gossip made the over one-hour drive worth it.

  “You know anything about the Nygard kid?” Brandon asked.

  “Is this official police business?” she asked.

  “Yes,” he said. “And he threatened my daughter.”

  “I’m not surprised,” she said.

  “Any history of violence?” Brandon asked.

  Her gaze moved to the corner of the room, as if searching her memory. “I’m not sure I should be discussing this with you, Mr. Mattson,” she said. “Here you’re not just the police.”

  “I get it. I’m a parent,” he said. “But I’m keeping this clean. If I wasn’t, I’d have waited out in the parking lot and demonstrated to Matthew what happens to people who threaten my family.”

  She cleared her throat, reading him.

  “He’s had suspensions for fighting. Drug possession. We don’t have proper staffing for a school resource officer. If we did…”

  Brandon’s department didn’t have the funds for a full-time officer on campus.

  “Has Forks PD ever refused to respond to your calls?”

  “No.”

  The morning bell rang.

  He pulled out a business card and handed it to her. “If you ever have trouble with my department, call me. I’ll be here.”

  “Okay,” she said, although he didn’t believe her.

  Brandon had to keep his cool. Just like he’d told Emma and Zach, he would handle things the right way. That meant not explaining to the principal how he wanted to throttle the kid. He’d file the report and let justice take its course.

  Maybe.

  In the meantime, there was the mystery of Judge Gillman and his wife. Why had they protected Nygard, even letting him squat on their property? Nygard was a suspect in the killing of a local police officer. Even if he hadn’t pulled the trigger in Eli’s murder, he was connected.

  Nygard would seek revenge for Alisa’s death. Brandon didn’t know whether he’d encouraged his son Matthew to stalk Emma, but it was likely just a taste of what Nygard had planned for Brandon and his family.

  Brandon had to connect Nygard to Eli’s murder before he did more to threaten Brandon or Emma. What he needed was to solve Eli’s murder. Then everything would fall into place. Until that happened, Brandon would have to keep Nygard out of the way. In jail, if possible.

  Just before 8:30 that morning, Brandon flipped the light on in his office and headed for the bullpen to start the coffee machine. He did a double take as at the person sitting at Jackson’s desk.

  She swiveled around in the chair.

  “Miss me?” Jackson said, smiling.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I can go back to Florida if you want…”

  “No,” he said, motioning with the carafe. He slid it back in the machine.

  “My dad got better quicker than we thought. He’s fine, for now,” she said.

  “Your mom doing okay?”

  “Oh, there was drama. I’m surprised she wasn’t wearing black. She talked about calling the funeral home, checking to be sure the arrangements were in place. Then, when he improved, it was like it never happened. They’re still planning on visiting for Christmas.”

  “Glad to hear it,” he said.

  “I heard about the Nygard girl,” she said.

  “Not what I wanted to happen,” he replied.

  “It’s not your fault,” she said. “You know that.”

  He didn’t want to talk about what had happened to Alisa Nygard. His emotions had been a pe
ndulum swaying between regret and anger. Regret for the loss of the young woman’s life. Anger that, if she was involved in Eli’s murder, she had escaped justice.

  “How’s Nygard taking it?” she asked.

  “Oh, you know. Just what you’d expect. His son is leaving threatening notes for Emma at school.”

  “Someone threatened Emma?” Jackson asked.

  Brandon explained what had happened with Emma the night before, up to and including the stalking incident.

  “That bastard,” Jackson said, leaning forward in her chair. “Do you want extra patrols at school?”

  “I’m making sure she’s covered to and from school,” he said. “As for me, I’d sure like to throttle the son of a bitch.”

  “Nygard or his son?”

  “No comment,” Brandon said.

  “I get it. I’d feel the same way if someone threatened one of my kids,” she said. “But you’re not really going to go after Matthew Nygard, are you?”

  “Like I said—”

  “No comment. I get it. But don’t forget. Everyone’s watching. You’re the chief of police.”

  It was a good reminder. He thought back to his conversation with the high school principal. Anything Brandon said or did could be construed as bias against Nygard. He’d already been accused of behavior bordering on vigilantism.

  “What are you working on?” he said, hoping for a change of topic.

  Jackson pointed to her computer screen. She’d been reading the notes on the Dunn case. “I see you found Todd’s cameras.”

  “You saw the recordings?” Brandon asked.

  “Yes, and, um…gross.”

  “You watched to the end?”

  “You didn’t?” she asked.

  “Couldn’t stomach it. Thought I’d leave the details to you.”

  “Yeah. Details. Those are images I’ll never get out of my mind. Did you know Sabina has a birthmark—”

  Brandon waved a finger at her. “I’ll take the info on a need to know basis. And that, I don’t need to know.”

  She cast him a mock scowl.

  “You saw the part where she looked right into the camera?” Jackson said.

  “Right, but Sabina claims she knew nothing about the video.”

  “You think she’s protecting Todd?” Jackson asked.

  “I know she is,” Brandon said. “I just don’t know why.”

  “There’s nothing unusual about a woman sticking up for her man. Even to cover up a murder.”

  “Right. And now that you’re back…” Brandon started.

  “I’ll dig deeper. Maybe I can get to Sabina, see if she’ll crack,” Jackson said.

  “You? The bad cop?” Brandon needled her. In the handful of cases they’d worked together, Jackson had played the nice guy.

  “I have more than one tool in my toolbox,” she said.

  “I’ll let you get to work then,” Brandon said.

  ***

  Brandon spent the morning convincing himself not to go after Nygard. Should he confront the timber thief’s son at school? Wait for him outside town and stop him on his way home. It was tempting. There wouldn’t be witnesses in the stretch of highway between Forks and the old sawmill. Who could blame Brandon? The Nygards had been involved in his brother’s death.

  They’d threatened his daughter.

  It would only take a few minutes alone with the kid to set him straight.

  Or, he could hand the case off to Josiah.

  He left the report on Josiah’s desk and shot him an email to follow up on the threatening note Matthew Nygard left for Emma when he came in later in the morning.

  Sue popped her head in his office just before noon.

  “We’ve got trouble,” she said.

  “Now what?”

  “Your dad.”

  Images of his father driving with his bum knee and under the influence of pain pills crossed Brandon’s mind. Not to mention the alcohol.

  “What happened?”

  Brandon reached for his keys. The hospital was only a few minutes away.

  “He’s down at the Forks Diner,” Sue said.

  “Okay, I’m missing something here.”

  Sue sighed. “If you let me get to the point.”

  “I was hoping you would…never mind.”

  “He’s causing a riot,” she said.

  “Sue, this town hasn’t seen a riot…ever.”

  “Okay, fine. He’s roughing up the Nygard fellow. The one you all think was involved in Eli’s case.”

  “Who’s down there?”

  “Will called, told me to have you come down,” she said.

  “Thanks, Sue.”

  He threw his coat on and swept past her.

  She called out after him.

  “Hey, Chief.”

  “Yeah?”

  “It’s not easy being old.”

  He stared back at her.

  “Okay,” he said.

  “I’m not talking about me,” she said.

  Sue was probably ten years younger than his father, but he got the point.

  “So much is wrong with the world. People you care about getting hurt, hurting each other,” she said. “And sometimes it feels like there’s nothing you can do about it.”

  He nodded. “I can always count on you for a good word, Sue.”

  “That’s why you pay me,” she said, smiling. “And, by the way, my eval is overdue. I don’t get my raise until you do your job.”

  “I’ll finish it this week.”

  She smirked doubtfully. “Uh huh.”

  Brandon parked behind Will’s police cruiser on the street in front of the Forks Diner.

  Will stepped out of the cruiser to join Brandon. Thirty feet away, Nygard paced the sidewalk, stroking his long gray and black beard, a cell phone pressed to his ear.

  “Where’s my dad?” Brandon asked.

  “In the cruiser. For his safety,” Will said. “He’s steaming mad.”

  “What happened?”

  “According to your dad, he was having breakfast at the diner when Nygard confronted him. Nygard says your dad started it.”

  “Anything physical?”

  “No,” Will said. “Just a bunch of threats. Tammy called 911.”

  Brandon let his dad out of the car and onto the sidewalk.

  “It’s about time you got here,” his dad said. He swiveled, then advanced on Nygard. “That son of a bitch coward…”

  Brandon held his dad back.

  “Screw you, old man,” Nygard shouted. He shoved the phone in his back pocket and pulled out a cigarette and lit it. He coughed, exhaling a puff of smoke Brandon’s direction.

  “This is pretty much what was happening before I put him in the car,” Will said.

  “That bastard threatened my granddaughter,” his dad said. “He’s lucky I don’t cap him next time he takes a ride to get beer.”

  “Cap him?”

  “It’s means shoot,” his dad said.

  “I know what it means,” Brandon said. What he didn’t understand was why he’d learned inner city gangster lingo. “Who told you about the note?”

  “Emma, of course.”

  Brandon exhaled. He wished she wouldn’t tell her grandpa everything. She had no idea how close he was to going off the deep end.

  “And I want to know what your hack police department plans to do about that man and his son threatening my granddaughter,” his father insisted.

  Will and his dad both stared at Brandon as if waiting for an answer.

  “Josiah will lead the investigation,” Brandon said.

  “You can’t prove anything,” Nygard shouted.

  “Shut the hell up,” Brandon said. “I’ll talk to you when I’m ready.”

  “You’ll talk to my attorney, murderer.”

  “What’s he mean?” his dad asked.

  “His daughter, Alisa.”

  “The one who jumped from a moving car,” his dad said, his voice rising with each word.
r />   Nygard flicked his cigarette aside, barreling toward them. Will stepped in front of him. “Not a good idea.”

  “I owe you, Mattson,” Nygard said, pointing at Brandon.

  Brandon swallowed the words he wanted to say, that Nygard was partially responsible for Eli’s death, whether Brandon could prove it or not. And that Alisa Nygard’s death, unfortunate as that was, was her own fault. Or at least the fault of Erik Olson. It had nothing to do with Brandon’s family.

  Brandon spoke to Will. “Get him out of here. Josiah can follow up with him about the threats.”

  Just to prod Nygard, he added, “We’ll make any arrests soon.”

  “I have a lawyer,” Nygard insisted.

  “You’ll need one,” Brandon said.

  Brandon escorted his dad back to his truck.

  “Don’t even start in on lecturing me,” his dad said.

  “I wasn’t going to. But it doesn’t help the investigation for you to go threatening to shoot people.”

  “His family threatened your daughter, Brandon. Don’t you even care?”

  A cold fury prickled the inside of Brandon’s chest.

  “If you don’t know I care, then you’re stupider than I thought.”

  “Don’t talk to me…”

  “This is my family too. Eli was my brother. Emma is my daughter,” he said. He sucked in air, hoping the oxygen would clear the white spots sparkling at the edge of his vision.

  “But I am the chief of police—”

  “Then do something.”

  “What? Act like an idiot and cause a scene?” Brandon said.

  He regretted the words almost immediately, recalling Sue’s admonition.

  “I’m sorry,” Brandon said.

  His father rose a hand. “I forgot. You’re a big shot now. Too important to look foolish while protecting your family.”

  “That’s not what I said.”

  His dad pulled himself up into his truck, making a final shove with the cane he used to support his injured knee.

  “I need to know you’re done with this,” Brandon said. “Lay off Nygard. This is your final warning.”

  He squinted down at Brandon from his seat in the truck.

  “Understood,” he said. “Son.”

  Chapter 22

  His dad’s reaction was one more reason to get this case wrapped up. The longer the investigation dragged on, the more his father’s anger would escalate. But Brandon had nothing to prove Nygard’s connection to Eli’s death. Olson was still missing, and the mayor, sheriff, and Judge Gillman were doing everything they could to keep Brandon from investigating Nygard.