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Chapter Sixteen

NEIL

“W hat happened to Simon, it wasn’t exactly self-defense.” Georgia brings her thumb to her mouth and nervously bites the nail.

“Explain it to me,” I say, taking her hand and gently tugging on it before I hold it with both of mine. “I can’t help you in the best way possible unless I know all the details. And once I know, we’ll figure it out. Together.”

“Together.” She nods and swallows hard.

I hold her hands as she recounts the entire event.

From everything she saw to what Rhodes and Quinn told her afterwards.

She doesn’t spare any details, and she never hesitates like she’s trying to hide anything from me.

I’ve gotten good at spotting her little fibs, but I’m not about to tell her what gives it away.

I have a feeling she’d try to use it against me in the future.

When she’s finished, she takes the last of the sprinkle donut next to her and crams the whole thing in her mouth at once. Her cheeks puff out, and I laugh at the sight.

“Are you trying to make yourself stop talking?” She nods, and I lean forward and give her a peck on the lips.

“I get it. That was a lot to unload, but my grandmother used to tell me that many hands make light work. So let me hold this with you, make your burden less.” I reach forward and trace my thumb over her cheek.

“That’s my job, Georgia. I’m here to take care of you. ”

Once she’s finished her donut, I pull her in my lap, and she cuddles against my chest. “But what do we do about this guy here in town now?”

“We’ve got a few options, but I think it’s best we take him head-on.”

Georgia pulls back and looks at me before nodding thoughtfully. “We kill him before he kills us. Good plan.”

“No!” I shake my head, and she sags like she’s disappointed.

“No, I think we should go talk to him. But we need to give him something he can take back to Simon’s dad.

Robert Gregory needs closure on this that points away from his son.

Even though Simon was clearly a piece of shit, we have to shift blame from Rhodes. ”

“Agreed.” Georgia nods thoughtfully.

“The problem is, we’re going to need a big dramatic story that’s almost too ridiculous to believe. Know anybody that can come up with something like that?” I raise an eyebrow at her, and she gives me a smug smile.

“You’re talking to the reigning champ of ridiculous, and I think I’ve got just the story for him.”

“Oh really?” I run my hands down her back, and I can see her gears are already spinning. “Yeah, I just need to gather the Stitches.”

“Wait, what?” I hesitate, but she hops out of my lap and waves me off.

“Let me do my thing.” She grabs her phone and dials a number. “Mrs. Betty, activate the phone tree. Operation Swamp Monster is a go.”

“Georgia, what are you doing?” I ask.

“What does it look like?” She turns to me and winks. “I’m saving the day.”

Several hours later, I’m pulling up to a run-down park on the edge of town, trying not to second-guess everything.

“Are you sure about this?” I ask Georgia one more time, just to be sure.

“Relax, big guy. I got this.” She holds up her bubble gun and pulls the trigger. The effect of bubbles blowing out of the end does nothing to soothe my anxiety. Although it does make her look adorable. “Follow my lead.”

“You’re the boss.” I cup her cheek before pulling her in for a quick kiss, and she surprises me by trying to climb onto my lap. “Don’t start something you can’t finish.”

“Dang it.” She pulls back like she forgot where we are. “Stop seducing me. I’m trying to run a sting operation.”

“That’s not what this is,” I say, but she waves me off.

“Potato, tomato.”

“That’s not exactly how the saying goes.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Just look pretty and let me do my thing.” She hops out of the car before I can say anything else, and although I wish this wasn’t the plan, I don’t have a better one.

The park was probably nice back in the day, but now all the playground equipment is rusted out and the weeds are overgrown.

There’s a retention pond behind it that looks like a breeding ground for mosquitoes and algae and nothing more.

The scattered beer cans and condom wrappers aren’t making it any more inviting.

“Thanks for meeting us out here,” Georgia says to Mrs. Betty and the other older ladies with her.

“We’re happy to do anything to assist, Sheriff Georgia.” She eyes me up and down and then grins at Georgia. “And this new hunk you’ve got with you.”

“Hands to yourself, Mrs. Betty. I’ve already claimed him.”

“All the good ones are taken,” Mrs. Betty sighs.

“Okay, you know what to do, so get into position.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Mrs. Betty does a little salute, and they all start moving.

A few moments later, a dark sedan pulls up next to the cruiser, and I take a step toward him. The guy that gets out is short and stocky with a shaved head, and he’s wearing a suit. When I approach him, he holds out his hand, and we shake.

“I’m Agent Neil Anders, this is Sheriff Georgia Dawson. Thanks for meeting us out here.”

“I’m Peter Engold. I got your message at the hotel.” He shakes Georgia's hand and then glances around. “Why did you want to meet out here?”

“We’ve got a proposition for you,” Georgia says, taking over. “You’ve got something of mine, and I’ve got something you want. I think trading would make everyone happy.”

“I’m not admitting to having anything of yours, but what information could you possibly have for me? This town hasn’t been much of a challenge to uncover secrets. Including unlocked trunks.”

I see Georgia flinch, but it’s the confirmation we needed about him being the one that took the photos. When I inspected her cruiser earlier, I could see scratches along the lock. It had been tampered with, and it was a calculated risk to assume Peter was the one that did it.

“You’re here to find someone to blame for Simon’s death. Correct?” Georgia asks, and Peter shrugs, once again not confirming anything. “What if I told you there’s a way to close this case up nice and tight, all while making your boss look good?”

“I’d say I’d be willing to hear you out,” Peter agrees.

“Have you heard of the Cottonwood Swamp Monster?” Georgia’s expression is dead serious.

“Is this a joke?” Peter looks at me, and I shake my head.

“The legend goes that back in the eighties, a kid was eaten by the Swamp Monster, and ever since then, this park has been abandoned.” There’s a sound of water splashing in the distance, but Georgia keeps her eyes on Peter.

“Okay, if this is all you’ve got, I’m out of here.” Peter goes to turn around, but I step in his path.

“You’re going to listen to what the sheriff has to say.” I’m a good foot taller than him, and as he leans back to look up at me, he realizes he’s alone out here and could be easily overpowered.

“Fine,” Peter says and turns back to face Georgia. “So what, you want me to say some local legend killed Simon Gregory?”

Georgia grabs a folder out of the passenger seat of her cruiser and holds it out to Peter. When he flips it open, she tells him what’s inside. “Simon was a journalist. He was here writing a piece on the Cottonwood Swamp Monster and was accidentally shot by a local hunter in the process.”

Peter flips through the case file that I helped Georgia create. It’s airtight, and all the extra evidence that was discovered since I’ve been here corroborates this new story.

“And you think the family is going to buy this?” Peter looks up at Georgia, and although he’s not completely convinced, I can see he’s thinking it over.

There’s another splash in the water behind us, and Georgia points with her thumb over her shoulder. “The truth is, there is no Swamp Monster. Some dummy dropped off a gator in the pond back in the day, and it bit off a kid's toe. Since then, they made up the legend to keep kids away from it.”

As if on cue, the biggest gator I’ve ever seen surfaces in the pond. We stare at it for a long second before it submerges again, and Georgia shrugs like it’s no big deal.

“I could call Robert Gregory right now and tell him everything,” Peter says.

“Or you could take this story, collect your fat check from the Gregorys, and be on your way.” Georgia steps closer to Peter and puts her hand on her gun.

“Or we can do this the hard way. I’ve got video of you stealing the photos out of my cruiser, which is a felony.

” She points to me, and I nod. “See, the fed guy knows.”

“You’re bluffing.” Peter looks between us, and I shrug.

“Robert Gregory gets the stain off his son's name, and in return he’s going to donate the money to clean this park up and get the gator out.” Georgia leans a little closer to Peter, and I tense, ready for a fight.

“I think it’s bullshit Simon’s name is clean because clearly he was a monster, but he’s dead, so I guess we can call it even. ”

“It’s a good deal,” I say to Peter, and his eyes move to mine. “You either go to jail, or you sell this story to your boss. What’s it going to be?”

“Let me make a call,” Peter sighs as he steps away and pulls out his cell phone.

Although we try to listen, he’s too far away to catch most of what he’s saying.

“Think he’ll take it?” Georgia asks.

“The dad wants a resolution that leaves him looking good. This is the best he’s going to get.”

A few moments later, Peter hangs up the phone and walks back to us.

“You’ve got a deal,” he says, reaching into his suit and taking out a manila envelope.

“This all of them?” Georgia asks before checking inside.

“It is,” Peter says and then taps the folder. “And this is everything?”

“As soon as the donation is made to Cottonwood, I’ll sign off on the file,” I tell Peter.

“It’s already done,” Peter says.

Georgia takes out her phone and taps on the screen. When she nods, I hold out the thumb drive with all the legal documents confirming this story.

“We’re done here?” I ask.

Peter smacks at a mosquito on his neck. “Completely, and I hope to never see you people again.”

Georgia and I watch as Peter gets in his car and speeds away from the park and Cottonwood. As soon as the dust settles, Georgia turns around.

“Come on out, ladies!”

The Stitches appear, and I see Mrs. Betty, Mrs. Nelson, and two others carrying a fake alligator. I run over and grab it from them and lay it across the old picnic table.

“How did you ladies manage to get that in the water? It’s so heavy.”

“Nothing we can’t handle,” Mrs. Betty says.

“They work out,” Georgia whispers to me like that’s the obvious answer.

“Getting it in the water was the easy part. Getting the remote to work was something else,” Mrs. Betty says.

“I can’t believe you guys had a plan like this ready to go.”

When Georgia first told me about the park, she said some kid got tetanus from the old jungle gym, and the city didn’t have the money to fix it up, so they just let it go. The gator was an old prop they used at the high school, and I’m pretty sure it’s the same place she “borrowed” her gun from.

“I’ve been trying to tell you, I’m always prepared.” Her sneaky smile drops. “Well, unless I’m not, but you know what I mean.”

I pull her into my arms and lift her off the ground. “I love you, Sheriff Georgia.”

“You do?” Her eyes get a little misty as I nod.

“From the moment we met, but seeing you today, I knew I couldn’t go another second without saying it. You’re incredible.”

“I know, right?” She places a kiss on my lips and then smiles against them. “But I love you too.”

“So fucking adorable,” Mrs. Betty says from behind us.

The two of us are laughing as we kiss again.