Page 127 of Need You
Chapter Twenty-Three
Colt returned to work on Tuesday to find the Nevada County district attorney, a state deputy attorney general, and Ben in his office.
“What did I do now?” he joked.
None of them appeared amused, and for a second, a tremor of apprehension went through him.
“Looks like we’ve got us a Bell situation,” the DA, Mack Goodright, said.
When Colt returned a blank stare, Ben said, “That small city in Los Angeles County where the city manager and six other officials were convicted of graft and corruption for misappropriating funds.”
“Only in this case it’s just your mayor,” Mack said. Colt had known the DA for years and he was a straight shooter.
Colt looked from Ben to the deputy AG, whom he hadn’t yet been introduced to but knew by face. “How bad is it?”
“At least a hundred thousand as far as we can tell,” Mack said, and Colt let out a low whistle. “Your city manager noticed some discrepancies, told Rita Tucker and Ben. They called in a forensic auditor. Pond’s basically been using the city coffers as his own personal bank account, bankrolling work on his ranch, five-star vacations, a fancy country club membership.”
Colt didn’t have to pretend to be surprised—he was. A hundred thousand bucks! When Ben had initially mentioned it, Colt thought it would be penny-ante stuff. The cost of a hotel room for one of his liaisons, a few unauthorized cab rides, a restaurant receipt that had nothing to do with city business. But this was huge. And bad. Glory Junction might be a wealthy town with its ski resorts, but an elected official ripping off taxpayers . . . the city would be dealing with this for years to come.
“Has he been arrested yet?” Colt figured they would’ve brought in the sheriff or state police since GJPD was under Pond’s purview and prosecutors wouldn’t want any appearance of impropriety.
“You don’t have anything to do with this,” Mack said. “Believe you me, we went over every city worker with a fine-tooth comb. So we’d like you to do the honors.”
“I’d be glad to.” Because arresting Pond would make his day.
The next few hours passed in the blink of an eye. He and Jack went to city hall, cuffed Pond, and read him his Miranda rights in front of a growing crowd of city workers and council members. A sheriff’s deputy carted his ass to Nevada City, where he languished in jail until his attorney bailed him out. News crews from as far away as San Francisco descended on Glory Junction. Pond’s ties to Silicon Valley made for an intriguing angle for reporters.
Colt spent lunch regaling his brothers, Carrie Jo, Hannah, Deb, Foster, and Boden with the look on Pond’s face when he and Jack told him he was under arrest.
“This means your job is safe,” TJ said.
“Hear, hear. Let’s drink to that.” Boden filled everyone’s glasses with the bar’s latest microbrew. Colt and Jack were still on duty, so they refrained.
“Yep,” Colt said, his thoughts wandering to Delaney, wondering if she’d made an offer on that condo. Swank place, he had to admit. At least according to the pictures. He’d scrolled through them after he’d gotten home from his road trip, tried to call her, but got voice mail instead.
He missed her and had stared out his window at her house much of the night, waiting for that obnoxious bright light in her studio to come on before she pulled down the shade. She’d left her car in the garage, leaving the easement space for him. He hadn’t parked in it once, hoping that the damn Tesla would magically appear.
“Ready to go back?” he asked Jack and Carrie Jo. They’d spent enough time yucking it up; there was work to be done.
“Let’s go.” Jack slapped Colt on the back, happy as hell to know they’d both dodged a bullet. Their jobs were safe.
More than likely Pond would be forced to pay restitution to the city and Glory Junction would get a new mayor, possibly Rita, who was already making noises that she was interested in the position.
It had been a great day and at the end of it Colt quit his job. Gave his notice in a neatly typed letter of resignation and hand delivered it to city hall.
* * *
Delaney took a red-eye to Reno and hired Uber to drive her the thirty-five minutes to Glory Junction. It was too late to call Colt. The trip had been impulsive and last minute and all she wanted to do was get home. Home, the best word in the world.
The driver got her carry-on out of the trunk and carried it up to Delaney’s deck. She thanked him, waited for the car to drive off, and unlocked her front door. Colt’s police car wasn’t parked on the pad, so she gazed at the top of his driveway. Not there either. Perhaps he’d been forced to respond to an emergency as he so often was. They’d been missing each other’s phone calls all day, giving Delaney yet another glimpse of life without him in LA. She pushed her suitcase through the entrance and left it in the hallway, too tired to carry it up the stairs.
The only incentive to climb them herself was a pair of comfy pajamas and her king-sized bed. Today had been excruciating, starting with the hour she’d spent in traffic while trying to get from her warehouse to the condo she wanted to buy. By the time she returned to the Biltmore, she craved a stiff martini and Colt. The hotel bar had been happy to accommodate her with the former. She’d been hit on by obnoxious men a dozen times while sitting in the lounge, sipping her drink. And then it struck her: she could go home. Wake up next to Colt in the morning.
Delaney let out a sigh of disappointment and called him again, only to get his voice mail. “Surprise! I’m home but you’re not. Don’t get all Chief Hottie from Hell on me, but I left the door unlocked for you. Wherever you are, stay safe and come back soon.”
She got in the tub, took a long soak, and put on the softest sleepwear she had. Five minutes after hitting her pillow she fell sound asleep. In the wee hours of the morning, something bristly rubbed the side of her cheek.
She swatted at it, murmuring, “Go away.” It was probably just a porcupine. The thought filtered through her muzzy head and then she jumped. Porcupine?
