His eyes were dead, empty. " They came this morning," Harvey said. His voice was flat. " Wade's men, said if I don't withdraw from the group, if I don't stop cooperating with you, they'll go after my daughter. She lives in Phoenix, has two kids.
They showed me pictures, pictures of my grandchildren at school, playing in their yard. They know where my family lives. They know their routines." Garrett felt ice in his veins. " Harvey, I can't do it.
I can't risk them. I thought I was strong enough, thought I could stand up to Wade, but my grandkids" His voice broke. " I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, but I can't. It's okay.
I understand. No, you don't. You don't have kids. Don't have grandkids. Don't have anyone they can threaten.
I do, and I can't let them get hurt because of me. Harvey picked up the gun. For a terrible moment, Garrett thought he was going to use it, but Harvey just held it, looking at it like he was considering options he shouldn't have to consider. Harvey, put the gun down. Why?
What's the point? If I keep fighting, Wade hurts my family. If I quit, I'm a coward who let him win. Either way, I lose. You don't lose.
You protect what matters most, your family. That's not cowardice. That's love. Then why do I feel like I'm betraying everyone? Garrett sat down across from him.
Slow movements, non-threatening. Because you're a good man. Good men feel guilt when they can't save everyone. But Harvey, you're not responsible for Wade's evil. You're only responsible for your choices.
And choosing to protect your grandchildren, that's the right choice. Harvey was shaking. What about Evelyn? What about the others? We'll keep fighting with or without you.
That's not on you. That's on us. But if I quit, others will quit. The group will fall apart. Maybe, or maybe they'll understand.
Maybe they'll respect a man who knows what matters most and isn't afraid to admit it. They sat in silence, the gun still on the table, Harvey still holding it. Finally, he set it down. Put his face in his hands, started crying. Deep, wrenching sobs, the kind that came from shame and relief and exhaustion, all mixed together.
Garrett waited, let him cry, didn't try to fix it. Just stayed present. When Harvey finally got quiet, Garrett said, Go to Phoenix. Stay with your daughter for a while. Get your grandkids somewhere safe.
When this is over, when Wade's in prison, you can come back. You really think you can put him in prison? Yes. How? He owns this town.
He owns the town, doesn't own the FBI, doesn't own federal law, doesn't own the truth. Garrett stood. Take care of your family, Harvey. That's your fight. This is mine.
He left Harvey at the kitchen table, drove back to the church, broke the news to the group. The reaction was what he expected. Shock, anger, fear. If Wade could threaten Harvey's grandchildren, he could threaten anyone's family. Two more families withdrew that afternoon.
Both with kids or grandkids they couldn't risk. Both apologetic, both ashamed, both understanding that sometimes protecting family meant walking away from justice. 15 families left, down from 18. We're losing people, Margaret said. Wade's dividing us, picking us off.
No, Garrett said. We're finding out who can go the distance. 15 people fully committed is stronger than 18 people half committed. We move forward with who we have. But that night alone in his house with Sarge, Garrett wondered if he was right.
Wondered if they could actually win this. Wondered if Wade's resources and ruthlessness would eventually grind them down to nothing. His phone rang. Agent Pritchard. Mr. Holloway, we have a problem.
Another one? I've been ordered to slow down the investigation. Someone with influence made calls. Political pressure. My supervisor wants me to focus on other cases.
Says the Wade Kimball situation is not a priority. Garrett closed his eyes. Wade got to your boss. Looks that way. I'm going to keep investigating on my own time, but officially, the bureau is backing off.
So, we're on our own. For now. But Mr. Holloway, I meant what I said. My father died because of men like Wade. I'm not letting this go.
Just need you to understand it'll take longer, be harder, require more evidence. How much more? Enough that my supervisors can't ignore it. Enough that the political pressure won't matter. We're talking overwhelming proof, smoking gun, something Wade can't talk his way out of.
What if I could get you that? How? What if someone got Wade to confess on tape admitting to everything? Naomi was quiet. Then that would do it.
But how would you get Wade to confess? He's not stupid. He's arrogant, and arrogant men make mistakes when they think they've won. What are you planning? Something stupid, probably illegal, definitely dangerous.
Mr. Holloway. Can't tell you more. Plausible deniability. But if I can get you that confession, will it be enough? Another pause.
Yes. Tape confession admitting to pattern of illegal lending, extortion, and threats. That would be enough to arrest him immediately. Build charges from there. Then that's what I'll get you.
Garrett, don't do anything that'll get you killed. Wade's dangerous. So am I when someone burns my garage and threatens my friends. He hung up, sat in the darkness, thinking, planning. Sarge watched him, patient, waiting for direction.
We're going to do something dumb, boy, Garrett said to the dog. Something Kate would yell at me for. Something that might get us both killed. You in? Sarge's tail thumped against the floor.
Always in, because that's what partners did. They stood together, faced danger together. Didn't back down even when backing down was the smart choice. Garrett picked up his phone, dialed the number on the settlement agreement Richard Brenner had left. Brenner answered on the second ring.