Page 33 of The Plan

He dropped into his chair, hands skimming over the cluttered desk, moving stacks of legal briefs. Holland licked his lips, picked up the phone, and dialed the county clerk’s office.

He cleared his throat, not really knowing what he needed to say.

“Carol, it’s Judge Holland. Listen, I need you to pull the Tolben file for me. I want to make sure all the necessary documents were submitted before I sign off on Hiller’s motion.”

She paused.“Which Tolben case, Your Honor?”

Holland’s grip tightened on the receiver. “You know the one I mean.”

He did his best to keep impatience out of his tone. The Tolben case was just another case, as far as the world needed to know.

Another pause, longer this time.“The foreclosure case?”

Talk about a chill now.

“Yes, the foreclosure case.” He knew—the town—everyone in this town knew what had happened. And they looked at him differently now. Judging the judge. And finding him lacking. “Is there a problem?”

“Well… Mr. Hiller’s office already requested a copy of the records yesterday. It took me a minute to find it in the bin to be refiled.”

“And?” Why did that make him feel fucking sick? He already knew Hiller was like a damned dog with a bone.

“He’s been in and out of the records office going over everything. Asked for copies of all related filings, the sale records, even the court transcripts.”

Holland’s throat went dry. “Did he take anything original with him?”

“No, sir. We don’t allow that, you know. But he did take copies, of course.”

Holland forced out a chuckle, though it felt brittle in his chest.

“Of course not, Carol. Thanks. I’ll be by later to take a look myself.” He hung up before she could respond and pressed his fingertips to his temples.

Hiller wasn’t just sniffing around—he was digging.

And once Hiller started digging, it was only a matter of time before he found something Ward couldn’t clean up. Holland had to shut this down before it got any worse.

He opened the drawer and reached for the whiskey, but before he could pour, the door creaked open, and he knew who it was before he even looked up.

Ward. Who else would it be.

The deputy stepped in like he owned the place. Hell, Holland knew the truth. Ward did now.

Holland shoved the whiskey bottle back in the drawer. “You mind knocking?”

Ward grinned, the kind of grin that made Holland's skin crawl. “Why? You expecting company?”

Holland scowled. “What do you want?”

Ward took his time sitting down, leaning back in the chair across from Holland’s desk like he had all the time in the world. “I hear our good friend Mr. Hiller’s been causing problems this past month.”

Holland wiped his hands on his robe. “I’m aware.”

Ward tilted his head. “You sure? Because last time I checked, you were supposed to be keeping an eye on him. You let him get too close, and we both know who’s going to take the fall first.”

Holland’s stomach churned. That was the problem with deals like the one he’d made with Ward. They never let you out once you were in. “I’ve got it under control.”

“You sure about that?”

He’d known going after the Tolben property was too much. Had known it. But Ward had wanted it—and Ward got what he wanted. Every time.

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