Free Resolution: Evan Warner Book 1 by Shawn Underhill, Nick Adams

took a long breath and got completely serious. “Obviously I can’t be certain, but I think these guys on Bow Street might have him. They’re the most obvious suspects, according to my friend Tim. It’s well known that they’re into all sorts of bad crap around here. The Bensons. Jared and Seth.”
    “If they’re so well known, why hasn’t anyone stopped them?”
    “Everyone knows that Bow Street is a mess. No one does anything about anything down there.”
    She was right. Bow Street is nearly a mile-long stretch of drugs and poverty and prostitution. Kids having kids. Despair and crime. Because it’s somewhat set apart from the rest of the city, behind the old mill buildings, where many of the workers used to live, it gets forgotten. One of those cases where it’s easier for the rest of a community to just look the other way as much as possible. Avert their eyes until they reach the nicer side of town.
    “I guess the Bensons are tight with one of the Franklin cops,” she said next. “Franklin only has three. That’s all they can afford. From everything I’ve heard, two are straight, the chief and one of the deputy’s. The other one is crooked. He lets a lot slide.”
    I said, “So these Benson guys have a free pass to do whatever.”
    “Basically.”
    “Guess I’ll need to go down there and snoop around.”
    “It’s sketchy down there.”
    “I wouldn’t go if I were you.”
    “I’ve driven by about twenty times. They’ve got beware of dog signs in the crappy yard.”
    “That’s another thing,” I said.
    “What is?”
    “Your car. It stands out. If things get ugly, you don’t want these people knowing who you are.”
    She deflated a little. “I never thought of that. This is a small place.”
    I nodded.
    “I see a lot of the same cars all the time.”
    “Exactly.”
    “Wait,” she said. “Are you saying that you’d seriously go down there and look around for me? For Simon?”
    I shrugged. “Someone has to.”
    She was quiet. Looking at me. Like she didn’t understand me.
    “What?”
    She said, “I’d go. I just ...”
    “It’s no big deal for me,” I said. “I deal with idiots all the time.”
    “Question.”
    “I might have an answer.”
    “Are you military or something?”
    I could have had a lot of fun telling her how I couldn’t say too much. My missions were classified. My unit did not officially exist. That sort of thing. But I didn’t. She seemed to have a sense of humor. But she was also going through a rough stretch. No need to bury her in sarcasm.
    I said, “My parents own a big campground. I’m basically a watchdog with thumbs. I deal with the drunks and morons that need to be thrown out. Been doing it since I was sixteen, so I’m used to conflicts and I’ve gotten pretty good at handling them.”
    Kendra looked over at Frank. Then back to me. She exhaled.
    “This is so weird.”
    “What is?”
    “This whole thing. It’s like you came along to answer my prayers. You’ve got to understand, I’m not used to getting much help.”
    I said nothing. I was thinking of Clint in Pale Rider. Just showing up to fix problems, clean up a town. Beat some bullies with an axe handle and then ride off into the sunset.
    “But what else can I do?” Kendra finally said.
    “Keep raising the reward,” I said. “Wait. Be miserable without your dog.”
    “It’s not just me,” she said. “My dad misses him terribly. He’s sort of sick, so he’s home most of the time with Simon. He’s miserable about this. Even more miserable that he can’t do much to help me.”
    “What’s wrong with him?” I spoke the words automatically, before considering if I should ask.
    “Gulf War Syndrome. That’s our best guess. The doctors aren’t even certain because the symptoms are all over the place. Mostly it’s like his immune system has been compromised. The body can’t recover or maintain itself.”
    I said nothing. I’d heard a little about it on the news here and there.