Chapter 32: WOLVES CIRCLING
Burton meets me at the door. Silent. Professional. His eyes track my movements. Cataloging. Assessing.
"Deputy Webb. Mr. Proctor is expecting you."
The mansion is exactly what I expected. Old money aesthetic. Tasteful. Powerful. A farmhouse expanded into an estate without losing its roots.
Burton leads me through halls lined with art. Not reproductions. Originals. Wealth displayed casually.
The study is wood-paneled. Warm. Intimate. Proctor sits behind a desk that probably cost more than my annual salary.
He stands when I enter. Offers his hand. "Deputy Webb. Thank you for coming."
I shake. His grip is firm. Confident. The handshake of a man who knows his power.
"Mr. Proctor."
"Please. Sit." He gestures to a leather chair. "Brandy?"
"Why not."
He pours from a crystal decanter. The brandy is amber. Expensive. He hands me a glass, takes his own, sits across from me.
"To new understandings," he says.
We drink. The brandy is smooth. Complex. Nothing like the bourbon at Sugar's. But somehow less honest.
"You've had an eventful few days," Proctor observes. His eyes are analytical. Calculating. "Twenty-three dead criminals. The official story is gang violence. Territorial dispute."
"That's the official story."
"It's almost believable." He swirls his brandy. "Almost."
I don't respond. Let the silence work.
"The thing is," Proctor continues, "I have people. They watch. They report. And what they reported was... interesting."
My Criminal Instinct pulses. Danger. But not immediate. Calculated danger.
"Interesting how?" I ask.
"A deputy who moves like someone trained beyond standard police academy. Who engages multiple opponents and wins. Who survives injuries that should have been debilitating." He leans forward slightly. "Who is clearly more than he appears."
He knows. Not everything. But enough.
"You have an interesting imagination," I say.
"I have excellent intelligence." He smiles. "But I'm not here to expose you, Deputy. I'm here to employ you."
"I already have a job."
"And you'll keep it. I'm not asking for exclusivity. I'm asking for... selective assistance."
I sip brandy. Wait for the pitch.
"Occasionally," Proctor says, "situations arise that require exceptional capability. Situations where normal enforcement is insufficient. Where someone with your unique skills could be invaluable."
"What kind of situations?"
"Varied. A rival becoming too aggressive. A shipment needing particular protection. A problem requiring creative resolution." He sets down his glass. "I don't want to own you, Deputy. I want to employ you. Occasionally. Specifically. For tasks that require what you can do."
My Criminal Instinct reads it as genuine. He wants an asset, not a servant.
"And payment?"
"Generous. Five thousand per task. More for complex assignments. Cash. Untraceable." He pauses. "And one other thing. Information."
"About?"
"About the people who came to Banshee. The ones you killed." His expression sharpens. "Ukrainian organization. Very dangerous. Very interested in someone here. I assume you were protecting that someone."
He's deduced Carrie. Or suspects.
"That's quite an assumption," I say carefully.
"It's an educated guess. But here's what matters—those people will come back. With more men. More resources. And when they do, you'll need allies." He gestures around. "I have resources. Connections. Information networks. Things that could help you prepare."
It's a good pitch. Appealing. Dangerous.
"Why me?" I ask. "You have Burton. Other people."
"Burton is loyal. Capable. But he's not you." Proctor stands. Walks to a painting on the wall. Amish farmland. Simple. Peaceful. "My mother painted this. Before she died. She wanted me to stay simple. Stay clean. I didn't."
He touches the frame. Gentle. Human.
"I built this," he continues. "This town. These operations. Through will and ruthlessness. But I'm not stupid. I recognize when someone is... exceptional. You are exceptional, Deputy Webb. And exceptional people are useful. If we can find terms we both accept."
I study him. The crime lord. The businessman. The man with his mother's painting on his wall.
"I'll think about it," I say. "Carefully."
He smiles. Returns to his seat. "That's what I like about you. You think. Your sheriff acts on impulse. Emotion. Loyalty. You calculate. Assess. Make strategic choices."
He's right. The comparison to Lucas is accurate. And dangerous.
"Lucas is my partner," I say.
"Of course. And I respect that. Any arrangement between us would not conflict with your partnership. Unless circumstances made it unavoidable." He refills my glass. "But partnerships evolve. People change. Options matter."
It's a wedge. Subtle. Skillful. Planting doubt about Lucas's judgment. About our alignment.
I should reject it. Should defend Lucas absolutely.
Instead, I drink brandy and file the observation as dangerous.
"I need time," I say.
"Take it. But not too much. Opportunities have windows." He stands. Interview over. "Burton will show you out."
I stand. Shake his hand again. "Thank you for the brandy."
"Thank you for considering my proposal." His grip is firm. "I think we could do great things together, Deputy. If you're willing to embrace what you are."
Burton appears. Leads me back through the halls. The art watches us pass. Witnesses to power.
At the door, Burton speaks. First time tonight. "You made an impression."
"That good or bad?"
"Depends." His eyes are hard. "Mr. Proctor values competence. But he also eliminates threats. Right now, you're potential ally. Don't become necessary enemy."
"Noted."
I drive back through Banshee. The town is quiet. Dark. Normal.
But nothing feels normal anymore.
Proctor's offer sits in my mind. Five thousand per task. Information. Resources. Protection against Rabbit's return.
All I have to do is become Proctor's occasional weapon.
The wolf inside me doesn't hate the idea.
That's the problem.
Author's Note / Promotion:
Your Reviews and Power Stones are the best way to show support. They help me know what you're enjoying and bring in new readers!
You don't have to. Get instant access to more content by supporting me on Patreon. I have three options so you can pick how far ahead you want to be:
🪙 Silver Tier ($6): Read 10 chapters ahead of the public site.
👑 Gold Tier ($9): Get 15-20 chapters ahead of the public site.
💎 Platinum Tier ($15): The ultimate experience. Get new chapters the second I finish them . No waiting for weekly drops, just pure, instant access.
Your support helps me write more .
👉 Find it all at patreon.com/fanficwriter1