Page 99 of Hard Knock Hero

“ButI was wrong. You’re a good man. And from what I’ve seen so far, you’re good for Jessi. I’ll be sorry to see you leave Hartley.”

“Oh, did nobody tell you?” Actually, it wasn’t surprising given the madness of the last half day. “I’ve decided to stick around Hartley. You’ll be seeing plenty of me.”

His eyes bugged. “What? But your job and your life are back in California, aren’t they? What will you do here?”

Aside from spending every minute I can with Jessi?“I haven’t figured that out yet. Get on your nerves, I’m sure.”

“Could you not? I need some new deputies. You know more than the average person already about law enforcement. You’ve proven you can stay cool under pressure. I’d much rather have you working for me than being a thorn in my side.”

“No way. I’m no cop. That’s a job Idefinitelydon’t want.”

His expression turned cautious. “Please tell me you’ll stay out of trouble from now on. You and Jessi both.”

“You know I can’t speak for her. Jessi finds trouble even more often than I do.” And when she did, I would stand by her.

Owen groaned. “I guess that’s heartburn for another day. Let’s get this done.”

On our way, I grabbed the cardboard box from the truck’s cargo. Then we strode into the gym. Sawyer Rigsby was holding court, the mayor standing timidly by his side. Hartley residents filled the bleachers. I spotted Jessi and her brother up front. She winked at me. I lifted my chin in acknowledgement. Pride filled me at the knowledge that she was mine. Hopefully, mine for a very long time.

“I know you all have questions,” Sawyer was saying, “and I will answer every one to the best of my ability. But I assure you that I hadno knowledgeof anything that my brother Dale or his sons were doing. I’m as innocent in all this as you are, and I’m horrified that my family could’ve done the things the police are saying.Ifthey’re true.”

Fifty different people spoke at once. Then Jessi jumped up to standing and shouted over the hum of voices. “Mr. Rigsby, what about all the Hart-Made Candy delivery trucks that left your warehouse overnight? What were they carrying?”

Sawyer blinked and recovered quickly. “Those were our regular product shipments.”

I stepped forward, carrying the cardboard box, while Owen hung back near the gym doors. My shoes squeaked on the wood. “Like this?” I asked. I set the box on the floor in front of Sawyer, within view of everyone there. The box was stamped with the Hart-Made Candy Co. logo on the side. “If it’s all so innocent, then go ahead. Show us what’s inside.”

Everyone in the gym had gone quiet. Watching and waiting.

Sawyer’s eyes widened. “How do I know you haven’t tampered with this?”

“Isn’t that your factory seal?” I pointed at the logo-printed tape. I hadn’t opened this box, and neither had Owen. But I was virtually certain now what was inside. “This came directly from one of your delivery trucks just this morning.”

A muscle in Sawyer’s jaw pulsed. “Fine. I don’t see the point of this display, but if this is what it takes to clear my name.” Pressing his lips together in defiance, Sawyer bent forward. He pulled his keys from his pocket and used one to cut a jagged line in the tape. He pulled apart the cardboard flaps, revealing a neat layer of red-and-white rectangles. Hart-Made’s brown sugar brittle, their signature product.

“See?” Sawyer asked, flourishing his hand.

“Open one.”

He took out one shallow box and lifted the lid. The inner tray was wrapped in plastic, but Sawyer sliced the protective cover and selected a piece of golden-brown candy, popping it into his mouth. “Delicious. Are you satisfied?”

Everyone else in the gym watched us. There were a few whispers. Owen stepped forward, frowning uncertainly.

I dug deeper into the stack of candy boxes, pulling out one from the middle. I handed it to Sawyer. Immediately, the odd smell we had noticed in the Hart-Made truck this morning was more pronounced.

And now that I’d realized what it was, I couldn’t believe I hadn’t placed it before.

“Try a piece of this one,” I said.

Sawyer’s face was turning all sorts of colors. “What is the point of this?”

“That’s a good question,” someone else from the crowd called out.

Jessi turned around to face her fellow Hartley residents. “If you’re hiding contraband, it makes sense to put it underneath your legitimate products.” She faced Sawyer again, crossing her arms. “If you have nothing to hide, then prove it. Try this candy, too.”

Sawyer made no move to open the new box of candy. So I took it from his hands and did it for him, breaking the plastic seal. Now the smell was even stronger. I held out the tray to him. It was full of golden-brown shards, similar to the brown sugar brittle. But a slightly different color.

And that smell wasdefinitelynot sweet.

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