Cal walked into Terrance’s house. Knocking was useless. Terrance never answered the door. He also never locked the door. When Cal walked in he had to hold his breath while searching for Terrance. Smoke filled the home. Cal found Terrance taking a hit off a bong. Terrance raised his hand at him in greeting, stoned out of his mind. Cal grabbed Terrance and drug him out the back door to fresh air. Terrance was bigger than Cal. Terrance used to be a standout middle linebacker in high school. He used to be 6’2” 215 lbs. and could run a 4.4 forty. Terrance had joined the military out of high school and had become a firearms and marksman expert. Cal had never gotten the full story, but somewhere in the Middle East, Terrance was either shot or stepped on something and severely injured his leg. He didn’t lose it or anything like that, but he could always tell when bad weather was coming, and it did seem to legitimately hurt on a consistent basis. Terrance now spent his days smoking pot, and claiming it was all medicinal marijuana, forgetting the fact that Kentucky didn’t recognize medicinal marijuana.
“What’s eatin’ you?” Terrance asked.
“I think Hernandez killed Chris,” Cal replied solemnly. “I think it’s all my fault.”
“Chris? The sheriff?” Terrance asked. “Man, either I’m more stoned than I realized, or Hernandez just stepped up his game.” Terrance looked over at his friend who didn’t know what to do. “Chris finally figure out you’re taking money from Hernandez?” Cal looked over at Terrance in shock.
“T, how did you know?” Cal asked.
“Do you think we’re all stupid?” Terrance asked in respond. “You’re rolling in money that you shouldn’t have. You have never brought in any of his men, and every time one of them gets popped, they suddenly get out because of mishandling of evidence. I’m stoned, not stupid. The question is what did Chris have that Hernandez killed him over?”
“Chris had some type of file apparently,” Cal answered, still shocked that Terrance had figured things out.”
“What are you going to do?” Terrance asked.
“I don’t know what I can do,” Cal admitted. “If I take him down he turns in the file, if I try and take it, he’ll kill me.”
“You deputies are a bunch of wimps,” Terrance said, shaking his head in disgust.
“I’m sheriff now!” Cal spat back. “Besides who are you to talk?” Terrance lifted an eyebrow and looked down at his leg. Cal looked a little ashamed of himself for blowing up at his friend like that. Terrance sighed and crossed his arms. He knew how to fix this mess; he didn’t want to, but he knew how.
“How many men does Hernandez have?” Terrance asked.
“I have no idea, no more than 8 to 10 at a time are at his safe house,” Cal replied. Terrance nodded, and walked inside, Cal followed. Terrance walked up to a wall, took a look at Cal, and made up his mind.
“You’ve looked the other way on the things I do for a long time, guess I owe you,” Terrance said and began to shove a book case. The bookcase moved back to revel a stairway. Cal looked at Terrance in awe.
“I may have been a slightly bigger deal then I let one when I was in the military,” Terrance said as an explanation.
“I’ll say,” Cal muttered. “I’ll say.”