By three o’clock, Victor was back at the school, watching the exit from his truck. When Drew emerged twenty minutes later, Victor knew immediately something had happened. His son’s gait was off, favoring his right side.
“What happened?” Victor asked as Drew climbed in.
“Nothing. Can we just go?”
“Show me.”
Drew pulled his collar aside. Bruises bloomed across his collarbone, fresh and angry. Victor’s training kicked in automatically—finger marks. Someone had grabbed Drew hard enough to leave distinct impressions.
“Who?”
Drew shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. If you get involved, it’ll just make things worse. You know how this town works.”
Victor did know. He’d learned quickly after moving here that Milwood Creek operated under its own rules. And at the top of that hierarchy sat Sheriff Carl Gaines—a man who ran the county like his personal kingdom. Forty-two years old with twenty years in law enforcement, all of it in this valley where his family had roots going back four generations. Carl decided which laws mattered and which could be ignored, who deserved protection and who didn’t.
“We’re going to the station,” Victor said, starting the engine.
“Dad, please—”
