Silver told me what he did, so I'd think she was a liar right out of the gate.
“I’m not saying she’s lying. Though high school girls do do that, y’know. I’m merely wondering if there’s any kind of evidence to this crime. Something the cops can work with.”
Bitterly, I shake my head. “She was too fucked up. Hasn’t told her folks. She told her friends, and they cut her out. Shunned her.”
“And the school?”
“The teachers heard about it. Called her in. Called him in, too. Made them do some conflict resolution counseling and swept the entire thing under the rug. They look at her the same way as all the other students do. Like she's some trouble maker, out to cause issues for their golden boy.”
“You said there were three of them. You keep on talking about one guy, though.”
“He was the one who drugged her. He’s the one who orchestrated the whole thing. He’s their fucking ringleader. They all need to suffer…but Jacob Weaving needs to suffer the most.”
Monty’s eyebrows rocket, shooting upward. “Weaving? Caleb Weaving’s kid?”
“I don’t know who his father is.” That hardly seems important, but the look on Monty’s face says otherwise.
“Caleb Weaving used to be one of my biggest clients. Owns half of the farmland in the county. Richer than sin.”
“And what? That means Jake shouldn’t be held accountable for what he’s done?”
Slowly, Monty smiles, stubbing out his cigarette in an overflowing ashtray. “No, Alex. It means, if we are talking about Caleb’s kid, then I will happily help you bring the little fucker to his knees. Caleb’s screwed me over more times than I can count. It’s about time someone taught that family a hard lesson. When were you hoping to mete out this justice of yours?”
“Today? Yesterday? As soon as humanly fucking possible. Why?”
“Because…if you’re willing to stay your hand for a couple of weeks, a couple of months, even, then I think I know just the thing that’ll strip that little fucker of his crown.”
“I don’t know, man. Months?”
“It’ll be worth it. Trust me. By Christmas, Jacob Weaving won’t be bothering your little girlfriend any longer.”
Silver's car doesn't sound healthy at all. On the drive back from the cabin, I make a mental note to give the engine a once over as soon as possible. Monty drove me over to the lake to collect it, and said no more about what his plan to punish Jake involved, but he played Lynyrd Skynyrd the entire way there—his thinking music—and wore a wolfish, smug smile that meant he was plotting something genuinely vile. I thanked him, told him I'd make sure I showed up for my shift on Wednesday, grim in the knowledge that he'll probably want me to do another run for him. When we pulled out of the cabin's long driveway, I took a left back toward Raleigh, and he took a right, disappearing off to god only knows where.
Now that I’m close to Silver’s, I message her to let her know I’m heading her way.
Me: Almost at your place. Gonna leave your beater. Should I knock?
I’m turning onto her street when she answers.
Silver: I resent that. My car is not a beater.
Silver: I feel rude as hell, but would you mind dropping it off and going? Things aren’t good over here.
Me: No problem
Silver: You have plans tonight?
Me: At your mercy. Have something in mind?
Silver: What’s your address? I’ll come over after ten.
My nerves revolt, making me feel nauseous. Silver, coming to the trailer? I told her I wanted her to come over when we were at the cabin, but I didn’t really think about all that that entailed. The place needs more than a little TLC.
Me: 1876 Bow Hill Rd. You know which park?
I arrive at her place while she's still replying. I make it quick, pulling into the driveway, parking, killing the engine. I get out, looking up at the house—beautiful, serene, ivy climbing up the fascia, roses planted in the beds. The kind of house I dreamed of living in when I was a kid—and then I spy her, standing at one of the upstairs windows. My poor Silver looks like a ghost up there, alone, pale behind the glass. She really is so fucking beautiful. She raises a hand, pressing it against the window, a small, sad smile on her face, and I want to kick in the front door, race up the stairs and take her into my arms right this second.
She said now wasn’t good, though,