“And Laurina was wanting some more shifts at the bar,” Cash says. “I’ll call her in to cover for us.”
The plan comes together quickly after that, with the men making their calls and Cora getting underfoot as they go to hunt down picnic supplies.
I trade them packing things up for going to get Everett from the police station, grateful for a chance to get out of the house for a while without anyone watching me. It’s a short drive, and I roll the windows down, letting the breeze ruffle my hair.
When I get there, there’s a bored looking guy behind the front desk who barely glances at me when I make my request.
“You want to see the Sheriff,” he repeats.
“That’s right. Is he in?”
“I mean, he is, but he’s in a meeting right now. I can’t just go knock on the door and tell him someone wants to see him.”
And that’s fair. It is the middle of the day and Everett is an important person. “Okay. Can I leave a message for him, then?”
Before he can answer, a door opens and Everett comes walking out. His eyes immediately find mine, and he must be able to figure out what’s going on because he strides forward purposefully.
“She’s always allowed back,” he says.
“But—”
Everett cuts him off. His expression is sharp, and his voice is calm and direct. “No matter what. She can come back and see me no matter what else is going on. Am I clear?”
The man nods, his eyes going a little wide.
“Good. Come on back, Harper.”
I follow him to his office, glancing around as I do. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen where he works, and of course his office is neat and functional. There’s not a lot of decoration, just filing cabinets and a leather chair on one side of a serviceable desk. There’s a row of shelves behind the desk, and on it is a small clock that seems to be made out of glass or crystal. It ticks silently, keeping the time, even though I note that it’s running a few minutes behind.
“Your clock is wrong,” I tell him, nodding to it.
Everett glances at it. “It was my father’s. I don’t really use it to keep the time.”
“I’m surprised you have anything that belonged to him. Wasn’t he terrible?”
“Yes,” Everett agrees. “He was.”
“I know the basics of what he was like, but… is there more to the story? Was he a good father at least?”
“No,” he says. “Not really. His power tripping wasn’t limited to his work as sheriff, and he had to be the one in control at home too. And there was no one to challenge him for a long time. He didn’t extort us, the way he did with the people of the town, but there are a lot of ways to keep people in line.”
“Extortion, really?”
He nods. “He would make certain business owners pay him for “protection”, and if they refused, he’d make it clear that they were putting themselves and their businesses at risk. If someone broke in, he wouldn’t come running to help them, basically. Every year the fee went up, and a lot of good people lost their jobs because of it.”
“Why didn’t they just refuse to pay? There can’t be that much crime in Silver Falls.”
“You’d be surprised. And even still, he wasn’t above paying people to back him up. One of the local feed stores had their windows busted in one night and miraculously no one saw anything. No camera footage, no witnesses. When the owner called the cops, my father showed up and basically twiddled his fucking thumbs, giving them the run around. They never found out who did it, and the cost of recouping what they lost nearly ran them out of business.”
“That’s terrible.” The more I learn about this man, the gladder I am that he’s not in charge anymore.
“Everyone suffered because of him. His job was to keep people safe, to protect the town and everyone in it, but he was too busy trying to throw his weight around. He worked with criminals, let violent people roam the streets because they were in his pocket, and took a percentage off the top of practically every robbery that happened in Silver Falls.”
I shake my head. “I can see why you hate him. Then… why keep the clock? I would have thought you’d throw out everything that belonged to him when you took over.”
“I got rid of most of it,” he says. “But the clock stays. It’s a reminder of everything I don’t want to become. Whenever I feel myself getting angry, I look at it and tell myself I can never be like him.”
“Everett.” I look at him seriously. “You couldn’t be like your father if you tried.”