“Are you planning to kill me, Sheriff Harms? Not here, you wouldn’t be that stupid. But you’re afraid I’ll tell someone, aren’t you? You wouldn’t like that, it would mean a scandal, wouldn’t it, open everything up again? And there’s my father. You think I’d let him off the hook? Because of my half-sisters?” Martin walked up, grabbed the sheriff’s shirt collar in his fists, and shouted right in his face, “For the love of God, you crazy hick, he hired you to kill my mother! My mother!”

Sheriff Harms said very quietly, “Step away from me, boy, or I’ll heave you out the door. Believe me now. If you do ever say anything, ever lay your hands on me again, I’ll kill you and your wife. Count on it. Now get out, Austin.”

Martin stepped back, lifted his right arm, and unbuttoned his cuff. He shook his wrist, and Sheriff Harms saw the small gold medical alert bracelet. “This is my wire, Sheriff. Things have progressed, haven’t they? Everything you’ve said is crystal clear, for the future jury, on a tiny recorder in here. You’ve been had, Sheriff.”

“I see you think you’ve been pretty smart about this, don’t you,” Sheriff Harms said, eyes hot and dark. “But it won’t do you any good, you fucker. Your little wife either, if there even is a wife.” He looked again into the deserted street outside and raised his gun. “Okay, Austin, I don’t want to do it here, but it looks like I have to. What could I do, what with you coming in here and going crazy on me?”

A man’s deep voice said from behind him, “I don’t think so, Sheriff Harms.”

The sheriff whirled around to face the man he’d worried himself nearly sick over since that snowy night two and a half weeks before, the man who’d claimed to have seen Samantha Barrister. “You!” He started to raise the pistol, but Savich was faster. He turned, kicked out his leg so fast it was a blur, and sent the pistol flying into the front window with such force it shattered the glass and skidded on the sidewalk in front of the sheriff’s office.

Sheriff Harms yelled from the pain in his wrist, at the unfairness of it all, and lunged toward Savich.

Martin grabbed the sheriff’s injured arm, jerked him around, and sent his fist into his jaw. The sheriff staggered, but didn’t go down. Martin hit him against the side of his head, then landed a punch in his belly. The sheriff fell hard against his desk, landing facedown on the floor.

Savich stepped over him and tapped Martin’s shoulder. “Looks like you laid him right out. Good job.” He was grinning as he shook Martin’s hand. “Well done, Martin. Do you feel you got everything we came for?”

Martin grinned back as he rubbed his knuckles. “Yeah, I do.”

A Pennsylvania state trooper, Sergeant Ellis Wilkes, stepped in from the back of the office where a door led to three jail cells, then three more state troopers crowded in behind him. He stared down at the sheriff. “Imagine,” he said, “this man has been the sheriff of Blessed Creek for more than half of his life, and all of it because of a vicious, cold-blooded murder.”

Martin said, “Are you sure we’ve got enough on him?” He handed the small gold bracelet to Sergeant Wilkes.

“With the witnesses we have here today and that recorder, Sheriff Harms is toast. Oh yeah, he’s going down big time.”

“Good,” Martin said. “Good.” There was more relief in his voice than satisfaction. Finally, for him, it was over. Except for his dad.

He and Savich watched the state troopers haul out Sheriff Harms’s unconscious body. When they were alone, Savich laid his hand on Martin’s shoulder. “Your father, Martin. I spoke to the Boston police yesterday. In addition to everything else, they also have the evidence of over twenty years of payments to the sheriff. You can bet that Sheriff Harms will roll hard on him.

“The Boston police are waiting for me to call again before they pick him up.”

“You knew my father had to be in on it, didn’t you, Dillon?”

“Yes, it was the only thing that made sense. I have to call them, Martin.”

“But you didn’t say anything about it to me.”

“No.”

“Because you didn’t think I could handle it.”

“No, I didn’t tell you because I knew you’d have doubts. It had to come from Sheriff Harms.”

Martin Thornton nodded as he said without hesitation, “He paid this man to murder my mother. Make the call, Agent Savich.” Martin heard Janet’s voice, and turned to see her running ahead of Sherlock into the sheriff’s office. He was smiling as he caught her up in his arms.