Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 104327 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 522(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104327 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 522(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
As we drank coffee and ate muffins, several more people arrived. I recognized most of them as fellow business owners in town. When Pim finally took the lead to get everyone’s attention, I guessed what the common denominator was between all of us.
Business owners who weren’t close to the Stanners.
Pim’s usual joking manner was replaced with a serious expression. “Alright, everyone, settle down. It’s come to our attention that some of us are being extorted by the sheriff’s department for financial support that’s completely off the books.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Sam’s jaw tighten. Tiller looked equally pissed off.
“So I think we’d better get to the bottom of this and figure out exactly how we want to go about fixing it,” Pim continued. “Let’s start by making a list of who’s paying this fee, how much we’re paying, and who’s getting the money.”
As we slowly began comparing notes, I realized not every shop was paying this “supplemental” fee for law enforcement. I was shocked, but I could tell Sam wasn’t surprised at all.
“It’s not legal,” Bill said. He was normally the quieter man in their marriage, so when he spoke, people tended to listen. “I did a little digging into the county budget, and I don’t see these payments listed anywhere. I propose we pool our resources and hire an attorney to look into it.”
Pim added, “Someone from out of town. Because if we’re wrong, several of us are going to make serious enemies with the wrong people. Bill and I are already on their shit list for refusing to pay it. We asked for the federal tax identification or charity registration of the pension fund for our records, and they never got back to us. We kind of forgot all about it. But we definitely deal with petty vandalism every few weeks. Not sure we even thought to connect the two.”
Everyone grumbled their frustration and agreed to the idea of an attorney. Tiller offered up his friend Julian, who could come in from Denver again.
I could tell Mia was mad as hell. “We questioned this payment when we first opened the shop. A week later, the shop was broken into and a brand-new delivery of high-end yarn and notions was taken. When we tried filing a report, the sheriff made it clear that businesses who contributed to the fund were put at the top of the priority list.”
Mindy rubbed Mia’s back. “At the time, we thought it was homophobia, and we just decided to pay it to keep the peace.”
Nina sighed. “Not homophobia. I was stupid enough to date Craig Stanner for about three months a couple of years ago. That’s when he convinced me to contribute. Even though the ranch is outside the city limits, he told me that the department helps those who help their officers. I just thought it was a nice way to be a supportive member of the community. But now I wonder who’s actually getting this money.”
I spoke up. “There’s a new deputy, Declan Stone, who seems like a stand-up guy. He transferred in from somewhere else. Once we get some more information, we might be able to ask his help.”
Mindy sighed. “I don’t know, Truman. I’d feel more comfortable if we called in the state bureau of investigations or something. Maybe the FBI?”
Bill nodded. “Let’s wait and see what the lawyer says. In the meantime, we need to keep this real quiet.”
Everyone agreed, and the conversation eventually moved off the topic of the corrupt sheriff’s department. Nerves coiled in my gut, but there was a slice of hope, too. If someone could hold Sheriff Stanner accountable for not treating the citizens of Aster Valley equally, it would go a long way toward improving our lives here.
Pim landed a beefy hand on my shoulder. “Now, what are we going to do with the Toasted Lemon?”
It took me a minute to realize he was talking about my shop.
And all I could do was laugh to keep from crying.
13
Sam
I watched Truman come to life with all of those friends and colleagues in his kitchen. He was a natural host, bustling around offering refills of coffee or answering questions about the new plants he was growing on the windowsill. After a while, I noticed Truman was smiling and relaxed, even laughing at one of Pim’s stories while the two older men held court at the kitchen table.
At one point, Barney Balderson showed up to check on Truman, and I could tell he was not a happy camper.
“Why are all these people here?” he asked Truman near the front door. I was trying not to eavesdrop, but my feet were glued to the floor.
I expected him to tell Barney about the pension fund situation since they were close and Barney was a member of the Aster Valley community as well as anyone, but he didn’t.