Page 63 of Torgash

Location isn't evidence. Having his new identity doesn't prove he killed Carman. For that—for the evidence that proves Derek's alibi was fabricated, for the witness statements that got buried, for the forensics that were never processed—I have to earn it.

That's the deal. Royce made it clear. The proof I need for three months of looking the other way while families lose their homes.

Stall the Henderson appeal. Find procedural issues with the Garcia testimony. Look the other way while Royce steamrolls families who can't fight back. Become the kind of sheriff who works for the highest bidder instead of the badge.

My hands won't stay still. They keep drumming against the table, reaching for the folder, pulling back. Like movement will somehow make this choice easier.

But nothing's stable anymore. Not the case. Not my certainty. Not Ash's face when I pushed him away at the diner.

He saw right through me. Read every tell.

"Something happened. Someone threatened you."

Dead accurate. And I let him think he was the problem instead of admitting Royce had me cornered.

I close my eyes and I'm back in Ash's arms last night. Telling him about Carman while he held me together without trying to fix it all.

He'd made a promise. "When this thing with Royce is over, we'll find him. Derek, the detective, and whoever else was involved."

Twelve hours later, I've got Derek's location sitting on my kitchen table. But not the proof. Never the proof.

I push back from the table and walk to the window, Derek's surveillance photo still in my hand. Street's empty, but I can feel the surveillance. Always watching.

Is Ash out there? Posted up somewhere with that lethal stillness, cataloging threats? Or did he hand off babysitting duty to one of the prospects, reduce me to just another asset that needs monitoring?

I press my palm against the window. Ash trusted me with his scars once. Let me see the evidence of what they did to him as a kid.

But I can't show him this. Can't let him see I'm capable of becoming the kind of bastard who would have left him bleeding in that camp.

I pull my hand back from the window, leaving a perfect print on the glass. The decision locks into place. Cold. Final. I'm compromised, not by Royce's threats, but by my own need for justice. Six years of wanting Derek's blood, and now I'm willing to sell out an entire town for it.

That makes me dangerous to anyone counting on me to do the right thing.

Dawn hits my kitchen window when I reach for the burner phone.

My hands are stable now. Strange how purpose cuts through doubt. Leaves you with nothing but the job that needs doing.

Royce answers on the second ring.

"I was wondering when you'd call." That smooth, practiced tone that made my skin crawl. "Have you made your decision, Sheriff?"

"I want the deal." Tastes like copper. Like blood. But the words come out clean. "I need specifics. Timeline. What do you want me to stall and for how long?"

"Smart woman. I knew you'd see reason." Papers rustling. "Three months. Appeals get delayed. Depositions postponed. You find procedural issues that require additional review. Nothing that implicates you directly."

"Three months of people losing their homes."

"Three months of you getting justice for your sister. Unless you'd prefer Derek Sullivan keeps his new life?"

"And in return?"

"All of it. Derek's real alibi, the one that puts him at your sister's apartment the night she died. The witness who saw him leave. The forensics that somehow never made it into evidence. The detective who made sure it didn't." His voice drops, going soft. "Or if you prefer a more... personal approach, I can have him brought to a secure location. Somewhere private. Somewhere you can ask all the questions you want without worrying about Miranda rights."

My free hand clenches into a fist. He's offering me Derek gift-wrapped, defenseless. The chance to look him in the eyes when I tell him Carman's name. To watch his face when he realizes his new life is over.

"How did you access sealed evidence files?" The detective in me kicks in despite the rest. "Those records were buried deep. I've been trying to get at that corruption network for four years."

Royce chuckles. "You were looking through official channels, Sheriff. Limited by warrants and jurisdictions, and procedural rules. I have... different resources. People who aren't restricted by badges or oaths. It's amazing what information becomes available when you're willing to pay the right price."

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