SWAT Ed: Fox & Bull (Nothing Special 8)

Shit. Free started rattling off copious amounts of information, his British accent becoming more pronounced the more excited he became. But because of Robert’s groveling, Fox could barely hear what he was saying.

“Robert, shut up,” Fox snapped, putting his palm close to the kid’s face.

He sniffled a bit but closed his mouth.

“Okay, Free. I can hear you now. Send me that information to my phone.”

“Already done. And Thompson should make it there in about ten more minutes.”

“All right,” Fox noted. “Did Steele get my driver?”

“Sir, you’re not gonna tell my momma about this, are ya? Is there any way that I can just—”

Fox pointed at Robert’s trembling lips. “If you don’t shut the fuck up so I can hear, I’m gonna shove the rest of that damn gauze in your mouth.”

Fox could feel his blood pumping as Free went further into the sheriff’s indiscretions and exactly why he hadn’t been solving very many of the town’s cases… especially ones involving Bull’s ranch and a few other surrounding properties.

Fox whipped his gaze in Robert’s direction, then brought his nose to within an inch of his. “Give me the name, now. Last chance before I take my deal back to help you. Who told you to do this? Who!”

“Newt… It’s Newt Thompson. He’s the sheriff’s oldest nephew—well, it’s his only nephew—and if anyone crosses him, he’ll make your life a living hell.” Robert grimaced again and adjusted the ice on his shoulder.

“Son of a bitch. Sheriff Thompson never investigated my reports because it’s his own family doing it?” Bull growled, speaking for the first time.

“I’ll do anything you say, please. Newt gives me extra work on his ranch when I need it to make ends meet. Sometimes he holds it over my head and makes me participate in his shit. But I’ll stop. I swear it.”

Fox glowered at all the information flooding his phone. More than he even knew what to do with. Enough to get rid of Bull’s thugs for good, but he’d need a new plan to deal with the crooked sheriff and his nephew.

Bull looked as if he was about to say something else, but Fox cut him off before the words could come out. He knew what Bull wanted to know. “Why is Newt Thompson doing this?”

Robert hesitated a moment before he answered. “Newt and his dad—the sheriff’s twin brother—have been saving their money forever, practically their whole lives to buy the land that would expand their operation. But no sooner than they got ready to buy, the council rejected their application that everyone thought was sure to go through…” Robert glanced nervously at Bull. “Until you swooped in and stole it right from under them, and not some… but all of it. The town voted on your horse farm and sanctuary. In the end, it was all about what would make the most money for the town. Now, Newt won’t let it go.”

“So, he was responsible for all of the trespassing?” Fox asked. “You witnessed it each time?”

The kid tried to nod, but it seemed his pain was getting the better of him, and Fox decided to hurry so the guy could get some relief. “Look, Robert. You seem like a decent guy that got strong-armed into doing something you didn’t—”

“I swear I didn’t. I would nev—”

“I’m still fuckin’ speaking, Robert,” he scolded, making Robert turn a shade paler as he clamped his thin lips together. “Now. If you’ll give a full statement to the police about everything Newt Thompson has done, all that you’ve witnessed, and agree to testify against him in court… then I’ll see that no charges are brought against you.”

“Fox, you got company headed your way.”

“Copy that,” he answered Free.

“And my momma won’t find out?” Robert hurried to add.

“For fuck’s sake.” Fox scoffed, standing and motioning to Bull that it was time to go. He reached inside his ID flap and removed one of his cards. “You do this, Robert, and you can go on with your life… free of Newt and his family.”

“Okay. I will. I prom—”

Dr. Bain blew into the curtain again with the lazy security guard and also who Fox assumed was Sheriff Thompson. His scanned the tight space with narrowed eyes, lingering on Bull for an irritated second before he shifted to Fox. Thompson’s face was flushed, and he panted as if he’d been running. One side of his shirt was untucked, and his wrinkled beige uniform pants had a questionable stain on the right pant leg.

Fuckin’ disgraceful.

“Robby, what the hell are you doing in here? Doc says one of these men shot you tonight,” the sheriff blurted, then glanced back at Bull. “Mr. Walker, how does any of this business concern you?”

Fox noticed the emergency room had filled with a lot more staff than when he’d first arrived. They were all milling about, pretending to be working while trying not to be too obvious as they listened to the exchange. Fox held up his badge, and the sheriff’s heavy jaw slackened as he stepped closer to get a better look. Fox wrinkled his nose, wishing he hadn’t, because the man smelled like musk, onions, and lunch meat.