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.
Mr. Holloway, changed your mind about settlement? No, I want to meet Wade face-to-face, man-to-man. No lawyers, no witnesses. Just him and me. We settle this like adults.
That's unusual. Tell him I'm offering him a deal. I walk away, drop the case, convince the others to walk away. In exchange, he reduces Evelyn's debt to zero and leaves her house alone. Why would you do that?
Because I'm tired. Because my garage is ash. Because I'm 67 years old and I don't have the energy for a year's-long legal battle. Wade wins. I'm acknowledging that, but I want something for Evelyn before I quit.
Brenner was quiet, calculating. I'll pass the message along, but Mr. Holloway, if this is some kind of trap, It's not a trap. It's surrender. Wade should understand that. He's good at making people surrender.
The call ended. Garrett sat back. The plan was forming, risky, probably suicidal. But if it worked, if he could get Wade alone, get him talking, get him to admit to everything while wearing a wire, that was a big if. About a dozen big ifs stacked on top of each other.
But it was the only play they had left. Wade called the next morning, direct, not through his lawyer. His voice was smooth, confident, victorious. Garrett Holloway, heard you want to talk. That's right.
Smart man. Took you long enough to realize you can't win. Guess I'm slow. Where and when? Your pawn shop, tonight, 9:00 p.m. Just you and me.
Why would I agree to that? Because you want to look me in the eye when I admit defeat. Because you want to savor your victory. Because you're the kind of man who needs witnesses to know you've won, and I'm offering to be that witness. Wade laughed.
You're right about that. Okay, tonight, 9:00 p.m. My shop. Come alone. Bring your surrender in writing. I will.