SWAT Ed: Fox & Bull (Nothing Special 8)

Fox accepted the papers with another dashing smile as he began to toss them one at a time on the counter in front of the sheriff. “Here you are on November third and the fifth at the Whitewater Creek Country Club in Peachtree City. And again, on December eighth.” Fox scoffed. “Well, fuck. You were there four days out of the week for the entire month of January. No wonder nothing’s getting done in your office.” Fox held up a photo of the sheriff in a decent white button-up shirt and blazer, sitting in an expensive restaurant in another more prominent county. “Is this what you call working twenty-four seven? Records say you’ve been a gold-tier supporter for three years. How much does a membership to a place like this cost a month, anyway?”

“Top dollar,” Dr. Bain said, coming out of Robert’s room, his tired eyes on Thompson. “My brother-in-law golfs there. I can’t even afford that place on my salary.”

“But you can afford it, can’t you, sheriff.” Fox cocked his head. “Especially if you’re using the town’s law enforcement budget to better your golf swing.”

The staff’s harsh whispers quickly morphed into hushed fussing as they began to put two and two together. They were demanding answers when they realized that Fox had concrete proof to back up his accusations. They’d been there less than an hour, and Fox had started a damn revolt.

“Say that’s not true, Wade,” the security guard asked, now standing at the counter, yanking up each paper and eyeing it angrily before slamming it back down. “What the hell? You paying for this with our tax dollars? Me and my wife both work two jobs.”

“Holy shit,” Bull whispered in Fox’s ear. “We better go.”

“I’m not quite done.” Fox stepped right into the sheriff’s personal space, and it didn’t matter that Fox was a few inches shorter than him; his presence towered over the sheriff and everyone listening to his words.

It wasn’t lost on Bull that Fox was doing all of this for him. He could’ve been in the city with his team… working on getting his job back… but he wasn’t. He was putting every bit of his energy into helping him and the people in this town who were being taken advantage of. Robbed.

Fox’s gray eyes flashed like lightning, and a few people gasped when the sheriff flinched away. “I also know exactly where you were when another call was placed to your office at eleven-fifteen tonight.”

The sheriff paled.

“Hope I didn’t interrupt anything good,” Fox sneered. “Should I print out that image too?”

“No. Don’t.” The sheriff wheezed, tugging at his collar. It was a good thing he was already in a hospital because he looked as if he was about to hyperventilate.

“Since you’re incapable of doing your damn job, I’m gonna go get your piece-of-shit nephew for you. I know he’s the one that’s been doing all of this, and so do you,” Fox snarled. “Nod your damn head.”

The sheriff shifted his eyes uneasily around the room before he gave a stiff jerk of his neck.

“I got you by the balls, Thompson. So, when I pull your leash, motherfucker, you better bark.”

The sheriff’s teeth were clenched when he choked out, “What does that mean?”

“It means that when I call you… you better fuckin’ answer. And Newt’s arrest better be made.”

Thompson swallowed roughly, a river of foolishness drenching his clammy face.

“Fox,” Bull warned.

The situation, Fox’s posture, and his language were getting out of control. The crowd was twice as large now as if the word was spreading around the hospital like a brushfire. Doctors, nurses, orderlies, and even maintenance workers were all standing and watching boldly. There was no one they could call about the disturbance, because the sheriff was already there.

Fox looked almost ready to lose his shit, and Bull was eager to know what the hell Free had found on Thompson that had him more scared than a cow in a cyclone.

“Do you have a card or something?”

“You don’t call me, I call you.” Fox brought his hand down on the taller man’s shoulder and held his grip there. Bull could see Fox’s fingers digging into the muscle. The sheriff tightened his eyes, glaring as if he wished he could make Fox stop breathing with just a look. Fox smirked. “And make sure you answer on the first ring.”

Fox turned his back on the sheriff and touched Bull on his forearm. “All right, handsome. We can go home now.”

His heart leapt in his throat at the same time Fox’s eyes widened, as if he too realized what he’d said. Home. Fox hurried and broke their eye contact, which was a good thing, because this was not the place.

“I’m terribly sorry you all had to bear witness to this,” Fox addressed the staff that stood around stunned and livid. “And ladies… my sincere apologies for my harsh language. I tend to get a little passionate about injustice. But there’s some changes that need to be made in your nice town, and I’m starting with this man, right here.”