Before Lily could answer, a loud, authoritative knock rapped against the front glass doors.
Mac walked over and slid the deadbolt open. Sheriff Jim Miller stepped out of the pouring rain, shaking off his wet raincoat. He was an older man with sharp eyes, heavily graying hair, and a weathered face that immediately tightened as he surveyed the scene. He looked at Ray, pinned in the booth, and then at Bear sitting with the little girl.
“Mac said it was an emergency, Bear,” Sheriff Miller said, walking slowly down the aisle, resting his hand casually near his duty belt. “He threw out a pretty heavy accusation on the phone. What the hell is going on here?”
Bear stood up. He reached into his vest pocket and pulled out the crumpled envelope Lily had brought him. He handed it to the Sheriff.
“That’s Claire Thompson’s little girl,” Bear said, gesturing gently toward Lily. “The man in the booth is Ray. He’s the guy Claire married. Claire died four months ago, Jim. City PD ruled it a fall down the stairs.”
Sheriff Miller frowned, taking the envelope. “I remember reading the obituary. Tragic. What does this have to do with him?”
“Read the letter, Jim,” Bear said, crossing his arms. “And look at the bank ledger inside. Then look at the bruise on that little girl's arm, and tell me if you think Claire’s death was an accident.”
The diner was dead silent as the Sheriff unfolded the letter. His eyes tracked back and forth across the page, absorbing Claire’s frantic final words. Then, he opened the blue bank ledger, checking the dates of the massive withdrawals against the date of Claire’s death.
When Sheriff Miller finally looked up, his expression was completely devoid of professional courtesy. He stared at Ray with a look of pure, unadulterated disgust.
“Sheriff, listen to me,” Ray pleaded, his voice cracking hysterically. “These men assaulted me! They kidnapped my daughter! I came in here to get her, and they locked the door and held me hostage! That letter is a fake! She forged it!” He pointed frantically at Lily.
Sheriff Miller didn't say a word to Ray. He walked over to Lily, kneeling down so he was at eye level with her. He noticed the purple bruise blooming on her pale wrist.
“Did he do that to you, Lily?” the Sheriff asked gently.
Lily nodded. She pointed to the envelope in the Sheriff’s hand. “I found it under the floor in my closet this morning. He caught me. He hit me and took it, and locked me inside. When he went to the kitchen, I got out and took it back. He said he was going to take all Mommy’s money and send me away where nobody would ever find me.”
Sheriff Miller closed his eyes for a brief second, taking a deep breath. When he opened them, he stood up, pulled a pair of heavy steel handcuffs from his belt, and walked directly over to the booth.
“Ray,” Sheriff Miller said coldly. “Stand up and put your hands behind your back.”
“You can’t do this!” Ray screamed, attempting to resist as Tiny hoisted him to his feet. “You have no proof! That’s a child’s imagination! I know my rights!”
“You have the right to remain silent,” Sheriff Miller barked, spinning Ray around and forcefully clicking the cuffs shut around his wrists. “And I highly suggest you start using it. You are under arrest for child abuse, fraud, and forgery. And as soon as I get this letter to a judge, I’ll be calling the City PD to reopen a homicide investigation. Now move.”
Hawk and Tiny happily assisted the Sheriff in escorting Ray out of the diner. Ray continued to scream, cry, and hurl insults, completely stripped of his dignity and power. The heavy glass doors shut behind them, cutting off the pathetic wailing, leaving the diner in a sudden, peaceful quiet.
Bear watched through the window as Ray was shoved into the back of the Sheriff’s cruiser in the pouring rain. The red and blue lights flashed against the wet asphalt, reflecting beautifully off the chrome of the motorcycles parked outside.
When Bear turned back to the bar, Mac had already handed Lily his cell phone.