Page 29 of Texas
Donna folds her hands on the table. “Then it’s only going to get worse.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.”
We stare at each other for a moment, and then she sighs. “Will has power here, Reggie. Not only money. Not just the Cleveland name. He’s got fingers in everything,” she says. “The zoning board. The sheriff’s office. Half the town council. He doesn’t threaten people. He makes them offers and if they say no, he finds a way to make their lives very, very hard.”
“And they let him.”
“They don’t see another option.”
I stare off into space for a minute. “There’s really no one in town who will stand up to him?” I ask. “No one he can’t threaten?”
Donna leans back, eyes narrowing. “The only one who could ever keep Will in his place was Charles Cleveland. Will’s daddy. He’s not like Will. He’s old money, yes, but he had a code,” she says. “Lost his wife ten years ago, and something in him went soft. He stepped back. Moved to Florida. Left Will to run the empire.”
“And now?”
She shakes her head. “Now he plays golf and writes checks for charities. I wish he’d come home and see what his son’s become.”
“Would he care?”
“I think so,” she says. “But he’s tired. And Will is... persuasive.”
Running a hand over my face, I nod slowly. “So who do we trust?”
For a beat, Donna doesn’t say anything. “Me. Hank. Maybe the mayor, if you catch her on the right day and she’s not worried about re-election. But that’s it.”
“Not the cops?”
She laughs, but it sounds bitter. “The sheriff owes Will more than money. He’s not going to lift a finger.”
I grit my teeth. “Then we’ll have to do this ourselves.”
Again, Donna doesn’t talk and simply studies me. “Who are you, Reggie?” she asks quietly. “And why are you risking your own skin over this?”
“Just a lonely stranger with nothing better to do.”
That makes her smile, then her phone buzzes, and when she glances at it, her face changes. “It’s from Denise,” she says. “Something’s happening at the clinic.”
Going cold at her words, I’m on my feet before she finishes the sentence. “What kind of something?”
“She didn’t say. Just trouble.” I don’t wait. I’m already moving. Donna stands too. “Be careful, Reggie.”
I don’t answer. I’m out the door, down the steps, and on the Harley in seconds. The engine roars to life, and I twist the throttle hard. Gravel spits from the tires as I peel out of the lot, heart hammering, every nerve on alert. I don’t know what’s waiting for me at that clinic but if Will sent someone, they’re about to learn exactly who the fuck they’re dealing with.
Eighteen
Ihear them before I see them. Shouting, chanting, voices thick with self-righteousness and Old Testament venom. The Harley growls as I pull into the back lot of the Dogwood Bluff Women’s Health & Wellness Center, but even with the engine still rumbling beneath me, their noise cuts through.
I park, swing off, and jog around the side of the building. And there they are. A group of protestors, maybe fifteen, all clustered on the sidewalk out front with signs held high. Some are printed, and others are hand-scrawled with thick black markers, but all the same bullshit. “Protect the Unborn.” “Repent and Return.” “No Abortion in Dogwood Bluff.”
A few have bibles clutched in one hand, and picket signs in the other. None of them are people I’ve met, but one face is familiar. Tyler. The young father from the clinic. The one who made a scene while I was in the waiting room when Kristin helped his girlfriend. The one who glared at me like I was poison. He’s front and center now, red-faced and puffed up, holding a sign that says “Family First! Not Feminism!”
He sees me the second I round the corner, and his eyes light up like he’s been waiting for this. “Well, well,” he sneers, stepping forward. “Look what the devil dragged in.”
I stop maybe ten feet from him, boots planted with my hands loose at my sides. “You got something to say, say it.”
He grins. “Yeah, I do. We don’t need your kind in this town.”
“My kind?”
