“Uh”—I blink a couple times—“actually it’s you that’s in question here.”
“Everything was fine before Callahan came back to town,” he continues, opening a cabinet for a plate and slamming it shut.
“Everything wasnotfine.” I stare at him incredulously. “How can you say that? Mr. Hayes died and Emma was being threatened. She’d probably be in a grave too if Jake hadn’t come back and protected her.”
“I was?—”
“You were doingnothing,” I say over him, hands on my hips. “The only thing you were doing was furthering Cole Turner’s agenda in Iron Ridge.”
“I—”
“Who’s behind Clearwater Holdings?” I press. “The Turners? It makes sense since Eli was pushing Emma to sell her property.”
“Harp—"
“I just don’t get why.” I step closer to him, studying his face. It’s familiar, but at the same time it’s like I’m staring at a stranger. “You’ve told me about people who tried to buy you off in the past. How is Turner different?”
"I didn't have a choice!" he shouts.
I freeze, shocked. The part of me that was holding out hope that I was wrong withered.
Dad rubs his hand over his head before he scrubs it over his mouth. For the first time, I see how old he looks—how tired. “I didn’t have a choice, Harper,” he repeats, more quietly. "You think I wanted this? You think I wanted to look the other way while people got hurt?"
"Then why did you?"
"Because he threatened you."
The words hit me like a punch. I stagger back a step.
He drops onto a seat at the kitchen table, his head bowed. "Turner came to me five years ago," he continues, his voice hollow. "Right after you came back from Denver. He said he had business interests in the area and needed someone who understood how things worked. Someone who could make sure the right cases got closed quietly."
"And you said yes."
"I said no." He looks at me, the bitterness clear in his dark gaze. "The first time, I said no. Two days later, someone broke into this house while you were at work. They didn't take anything. They just left a note on your pillow. It said, 'Next time, she’ll be home.'"
My stomach drops.
"So I made a deal," he says quietly. "One case. One signature. That's all it was supposed to be. I’d look the other way on the harassment complaint, and Turner would leave you alone."
I sink back onto the chair. "But it didn't stop there."
"No." He shakes his head. "One became two. Two became five. And by the time I realized what I was part of, it was too late. I was in too deep. He owned me."
Staring at him, I try to reconcile the man in front of me with the father who taught me what it meant to be a cop. The man who told me that the badge meant something—that justice mattered.
"You could have come to me," I say, and my voice sounds small. "You could have told me."
"And put you in more danger?" He laughs humorlessly, shaking his head. "Harper, you don't understand what Turner is. He owns judges. Deputies. Businesses. He's going to be governor. If I'd told you, if I'd tried to stop him, he would have killed you. I couldn't—" His voice breaks. "I couldn't let that happen."
I slump against the seat. "So you let other people die instead."
The words hang in the air between us.
"I didn't know," he says, but there's no conviction in it. "I didn't know the full scope. I just signed the reports. I didn't ask questions."
"Is that how you've justified it?" I ask, and the bitterness in my voice surprises even me. "You don't ask questions, so you don't know for certain, and that way you can feel better about what you've done?"
He flinches like I've slapped him.