Whispering Rock (Virgin River #3)(106)

“Oh, Jack, we have things to do around here.”

“We certainly do,” he said, laying her gently on the bed and leaning down to pull off her boots. “Yes, we do.”

The sheriff’s department’s detectives were extremely cooperative in letting Mike listen in on some of the interviews they conducted with both Jordan Whitley, Brendan Lancaster and students who may or may not have been victimized by the suspects. He considered it very fortunate that only three Virgin River girls seemed to have fallen prey, because there were others around Valley High School who appeared to be suspiciously likely to have been drugged and raped. And, as Tom had suspected, there were more drugs involved—what was referred to as white dope. Two short weeks after these young men were apprehended a fount of information and piles of reports had been generated and confessions were falling like raindrops around the county ADA.

Brie’s reputation as a prosecutor extended beyond the boundaries of the Sacramento Valley, and when she offered her services as a consultant to the local district attorney, they welcomed her help gratefully. The one thing she never thought she’d be able to do she did extremely well—she assisted in interviewing teenage girls who were likely rape victims. Her skills were impressive, but it was her compassion and finesse that probably assisted in prepping at least one girl for a possible trial. Carra Jean Winslow knew exactly what had happened to her, and who had raped her.

The most interesting thing to Mike—and so unsurprising as well—was that these boys, Whitley and Lancaster, were singularly unimpressive. They were neither clever nor savvy—they were simply idiots with access to dangerous drugs and the opportunity to use them. Lancaster had been present at a couple of raves held in a larger town down the coast where he had located and purchased GHB, sharing his wealth with Whitley. He also had a local marijuana dealer he worked with, and traded pot for meth and ecstasy. He had the stuff and was dealing. It boiled down to teens in search of a good time and the misfortune to have ended up being around these two losers.

It didn’t take Lancaster long to flip and turn on his suppliers. This delighted Delaney, who’d been looking hard for white-dope dealers. He was also willing to flip on Whitley—he was pretty much the only witness to the rapes. Unfortunately for Whitley, the only person he could turn over was Lancaster—so it looked as if the rape charges might stick.

No names of teenagers were published in the local papers, but that didn’t keep the word from spreading. In Virgin River, Mike found some of his neighbors wanted to express their gratitude for his work. He was given a case of good wine, half a butchered calf, a dozen jars of canned tomatoes that were put up last summer. He pulled a couple of bottles of wine from the case for Brie, but took the rest of the wine and produce to Preacher. Since he’d taken his job, Jack and Preacher hadn’t allowed him to pay anything for his meals at the bar. That was the way things worked around here. All for one, one for all…

Mike leaned against his SUV, waiting outside the sheriff’s department for someone, a young woman who had just completed her third round of questions with detectives. When Brenda Carpenter came out, a svelte young blue-jeaned girl with a book bag slung over her shoulder, he pushed off the car. “Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” she returned.

“I talked your dad into letting me give you a lift home. I thought maybe you and I could have a few minutes.”

“What for?” she asked with a shrug. “There can’t possibly be anything more you want to ask me. Not now.”

He opened the passenger door for her. “Nah. No more questions. But I might want to tell you a couple of things.”

She gave a heavy sigh, but needing that ride, she got in. Mike hurried to the driver’s side, because once they were under way, she couldn’t refuse to go with him. “Brenda, it was very brave, what you did,” he said.

“I didn’t have that much of a choice,” she said.

“Well, but you did. You could have lied, you could have refused to talk to anyone, you could have feigned sick…. I can think of a hundred ways you could’ve been unhelpful—but you gutted it out. And knowing what that meant to you, I just wanted to thank you.”

She looked at him. “Why thank me?” she asked.

“Well, it’s my town—you’re my family, my people. If I’m doing my job, I try to make sure you’re safe. Believe me, I know from personal experience how hard it is to answer some of those questions.”

“Yeah. Your wife,” she said. “You must think I’m a pretty big sissy for holding out so long after what your wife was brave enough to do.”

“Not at all, Brenda. Number one, my wife is thirty-one. Number two, she’s not only a lawyer, but one with experience in prosecuting dangerous criminals. Three—she had some serious backup in me and Jack and many others. You’re just a kid who was never sure what happened to you. You were up against a lot.”

“Thanks. I guess.”

“Really, kiddo. For me and Brie—we’ve been through some scary stuff and have kind of thick hides by now. Now all we want is a peaceful life in a peaceful town.” He laughed. “Jesus, I hope that’s not asking too much.”

She was quiet for a long moment. “I’m sorry you went through all that. I know what it’s like.”

“Thank you, I know you do,” he said. “Hopefully it’s behind us now. We want a family, you know. You get to be my age, you don’t want to miss too many chances at that.”