| |
Matt
Finding Hayley wasn’t difficult. Sumneyville wasn’t that big, and there weren’t many places she’d go. He’d hoped, of course, that she’d seek him out, but he suspected Hayley had come to town with a plan.
He had no idea if he was part of that plan, but if he wasn’t, he would be. To what extent and in what capacity remained to be seen.
Hayley was too smart, too methodical to go directly to Daryl’s house. She’d want to have a look around first, get a feel for which way the winds were blowing, and then establish her presence. She’d make Daryl come to her.
Matt cruised the lots of the most likely places. Mel’s Motel, Franco’s, the community park. He hit pay dirt when he saw the sleek SUV parked in Martha’s driveway.
Clever girl.
He parked down the block and waited, watching as the members of the Ladies Auxiliary converged on the B & B. Mona Delvecchio. Edith and Lydia Schaeffer. Winona Mitchell. Agnes Miller. Some carried covered dishes, others reusable bags with easy-grip handles. It was the neighborly thing to do, especially if they planned on staying awhile.
None of them noticed him sitting there as they bustled by. They were too intent on getting inside and getting the scoop.
Time passed. He smiled to himself, imagining the interrogation Hayley had subjected herself to, knowing that it was all part of her plan.
Ah, to be a fly on the wall during that conversation.
A police car turned onto the street, drawing his attention, slowing as it approached Martha’s house. Not Daryl, but Joe Eisenheiser, one of Daryl’s sycophants and exactly one-third of the Sumneyville police force. Joe stopped in front of the driveway, scratched down the SUV’s license plate, and then continued on his way.
A similar cruiser came by approximately an hour later, but this time, the chief of police himself was behind the wheel. A wave of intense dislike rippled through Matt, just like it always did when Daryl Freed was in his sights. The man represented everything Matt despised—greed, arrogance, intimidation, cruelty. Worse, he abused his position as a civil servant to put his own needs above those of the community.
Daryl parked the cruiser at an angle where Martha’s driveway met the street, positioning it so that it was blocking the driveway—an obvious power move.
Matt snorted. Daryl clearly had no idea who he was dealing with. Then again, Daryl had always underestimated Hayley. Her intelligence. Her cunning. Her contempt for him and their father.
Then, Martha’s front door opened, and Matt nearly forgot how to breathe.
Hayley.
The pictures in her dossier hadn’t done her justice. Rich chocolate-brown hair fell well below her shoulders, parted off to the side and cascading in natural waves. Her big blue eyes were visible from halfway down the block, framed in long, thick, dark lashes. She’d been pretty at seventeen. As a mature thirty-something, she was breathtaking.
She briefly looked over his way, and that torch he’d been carrying around flared deep in his chest. Any doubts that the mere sight of her could still turn him inside out were immediately dispelled.
His body tightened as Daryl got out of the car and approached Hayley. Logically, he knew Hayley could take care of herself, but he remained on high alert anyway, ready to intervene at the first sign of trouble.
In contrast, Hayley looked calm. Unconcerned. Bored, even.
A few words were exchanged, and then Daryl got back into his car and drove away. Matt couldn’t overhear what was said, but Daryl hadn’t looked particularly pleased.
Hayley didn’t glance over his way again before going back into the house.
Figuring Daryl’s visit had added at least another thirty minutes to the ladies’ interrogation, Matt chose to follow Daryl. Unsurprisingly, the chief went back to the police station. He was in there for about five minutes before he came out again, still scowling.
Daryl paused outside the station, hefted up his pants, and took a moment to glance up and down the street. Annoyance was clearly etched in his features, but he didn’t seem worried. He walked over to the nearby fire hall, presumably to confirm Hayley’s presence to his buddy and cohort Jerry Petraski. Those two were as thick as thieves.
Matt didn’t care for Jerry any more than he did Daryl. The Sumneyville fire chief had been at Daryl’s side long before they became brothers-in-law.
Daryl reemerged after only a few minutes and ambled his way back to the police station.
Convinced nothing more of interest would happen during the daylight hours, Matt circled back toward Martha’s and verified that Hayley’s SUV was still parked in the driveway. She’d probably spend most of the afternoon there, learning all she could, and then set out once the sun went down to do more of the hands-on investigating. It was what he would do.
Matt sent out a secure group text, then drove back to Sanctuary, and went straight to the war room. Placed on the opposite side of the main building from the kitchens, it hadn’t sustained the same kind of structural damage other sections had during the devastating blaze. As such, it had been their base of operations when they started the Sanctuary project. Here, they’d drafted plans, held discussions, done whatever needed to be done.
Now, it was their control center. Soundproofed, secured, and outfitted with the latest and greatest tech. A sleek, large conference table took up the center, complete with cushy, ergonomic chairs around it.
The guys began filing in right after he did along with their spouses. Most of the women were locals, having grown up in the area like him. Not only did they have a vested interest in everything that went down, but they also had invaluable insight into the players as well. Matt considered them every bit a part of the Sanctuary team as his former SEAL partners.
He waited until everyone was seated and then brought them up to speed.
“Does Freed know why Hayley is in town?” Smoke asked.
“Based on his reaction, no. He’s annoyed but not worried.”
“He thinks her arrival is just a poorly timed inconvenience?” Doc asked in disbelief. “He’s not really that stupid, is he?”
It was Smoke’s wife, Sam, who answered. “Daryl isn’t stupid, but he is a misogynistic asshole.”
“Sam’s right,” Sandy chimed in. “Growing up next to Lenny, I got to see a lot of it. Darius, Daryl, Jerry, Dwayne—they have very specific ideas about male and female roles in society. You might have noticed that there are no women in the police or fire departments, on the township or school boards, or in any position of power, really.”
Mad Dog scowled. “So, what does he think Hayley’s been doing all this time?”
“Not being a deputy marshal—that’s for sure,” Kate muttered and then looked to Matt. “She went to school for sociology or psychology or something, didn’t she?”
Matt nodded. “She started off in sociology but ended up in criminal justice. Her master’s is in criminal psychology.”
“With Darius, Daryl, and Dwayne in her gene pool, I can understand the motivation,” Heff commented. “Clearly, she’s a lot smarter than anyone else in that family. That alone should raise a few red flags, especially for a police chief dealing dirty.”
“I doubt he knows,” Matt continued, “or that it’s even occurred to him. Growing up, Daryl held all the cards when it came to Hayley. In his mind, he still does.”
“Big mistake,” Tina murmured.
Matt agreed wholeheartedly.
“How much do you think Hayley knows about what’s going on?” Cage asked.
“Officially, she knows whatever the DOJ knows.”
“Which is limited to whatever their mole has told them,” Doc commented. “No more intel on that, I’m guessing?”
Matt shook his head. According to Ian, the DOJ had had someone on the inside, but their identity remained a mystery.
“Freed’s kept his inner circle tight, and I doubt their mole is part of it.”
The others nodded in agreement. Beyond Daryl Freed and Jerry Petraski, the circle of trust included Jerry’s son, Lenny; Luther Renninger, the missing Sumneyville accountant; the Obermacher boys—only one of whom was still around; and Joe Eisenheiser.
There were others involved in Freed’s posse, but they were bit players. Useful tools but inconsequential in the grand scheme of things. That was where the DOJ man probably was.
“You said Hayley officially knows what the DOJ knows,” Cage said. “What about unofficially?”
Matt’s lips quirked. “Unofficially, Hayley knows a grassroots campaign is her best option.”
“Which is why she’s staying at Martha’s,” Cage’s wife, Bree, said, nodding approvingly.
Bree had stayed at the Sumneyville B & B when she came to town to do a story on Sanctuary several years earlier and quickly ferreted out the true sources of information—those based not on facts, but on impressions.
“So, what’s the plan?” Mad Dog asked.
“For now, we wait and watch. After we discover what Hayley’s plan is, we’ll adjust accordingly.”
“And how exactly are we going to find out what Hayley’s plan is, Church?” Heff asked with a wide grin and a wicked gleam in his eye. “Do you think she’s going to expose herself to you?”
Matt ignored him and declared the meeting adjourned, but the truth was, he was counting on her doing exactly that.