Setting Up Trap
Brendon moved with urgency, his boots hitting the pavement in a rhythmic cadence as he made his way toward the library. The city had begun to wake, the sun creeping up over the rooftops, casting long, golden streaks against the brick walls. A few morning stragglers roamed the streets, shopkeepers rolling up their metal shutters, a few early joggers making their rounds. It was a peaceful sight, one that felt almost foreign after the chaos of the past few days.
But peace was an illusion.
His thoughts flickered back to the message he had received the night before. Drago. That bastard had been behind the attack, but his arrogance made one thing clear—he was still searching for something. The package. Brendon had no doubt now; it wasn't in police custody. Which meant one thing—Robert had done something with it.
The library's heavy oak doors creaked as he pushed them open. Inside, the familiar scent of aged books and dust settled around him. Warm golden light spilled in through the stained-glass windows, illuminating the rows of shelves. Robert sat at the front desk, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, a coffee cup steaming beside him.
"Morning, Sheriff," Robert greeted, stretching. "Damn, I haven't slept like that in years."
Brendon smirked. "I can see that."
Robert looked at him, noticing his tense expression. "Something's up?"
Brendon scanned the room. "Where's Devina? She was here before I left."
Robert's brow lifted in amusement, his lips curving into a teasing grin. "Why? You miss her already?"
Brendon rolled his eyes, but before he could respond, Robert continued, "I mean, I don't blame you. She's a fierce beauty, smart as hell too. Can't say I wouldn't—"
"Hey! Cut it out, man. No time for jokes." Brendon pulled out his phone, flipping the screen toward Robert. "Look at what Sofie sent me."
Robert straightened as his eyes darted across the screen. The text messages between Bradley Norman and Jacob Williams filled the screen, the conversation filled with frustration, desperation, and the lingering weight of something much bigger.
Robert's lips parted slightly as he read.
Messaging App Conversation—
Timestamp: 22:47 PM
Bradley Norman:
Jacob, we need to talk.
Jacob Williams:
What's up?
Bradley Norman:
It's about Bronson. I've got proof, man. Video proof.
Jacob Williams:
Proof of what?
Bradley Norman:
The abuse. The slurs. Everything he's done to us. Caught it on my phone today.
Jacob Williams:
Brad… I hear you. I do. But you gotta think this through.
Bradley Norman:
What's there to think about? He's been getting away with this for too long. If we take this to the right people, he's done.
Jacob Williams:
And then what? You think the system's just gonna work like it should? You really think they'll handle this the right way?
Bradley Norman:
I don't care how the system works—I care that he gets what's coming to him.
Jacob Williams:
And I care about what happens to you when you push this. You know how these things go, man. Retaliation. Smears. They'll turn it on you.
Bradley Norman:
So what, we just let it slide? Let him keep doing this to us?
Jacob Williams:
I'm saying there's other ways. Ways that don't put a target on your back.
Bradley Norman:
Jacob… If I do nothing, then I'm saying it's okay. And it's not okay.
Jacob Williams:
I get that. But I need you to be smart about this.
Bradley Norman:
Smart is making sure he pays.
Jacob Williams:
Smart is making sure you don't end up worse off because of him.
Bradley Norman:
…So you're saying I should just drop it?
Jacob Williams:
I'm saying, think it through. Let's talk to the right people first. Make sure you're protected.
Bradley Norman:
Man, I don't know. I just want justice.
Jacob Williams:
And I want you safe. We do this, we do it right. No rushing. No reckless moves.
Bradley Norman:
Fine. But I'm not letting this go.
Jacob Williams:
I wouldn't expect you to. Just… let's be careful, alright?
Bradley Norman:
Alright. But Bronson's not walking away from this.
Jacob Williams:
Then we make sure he doesn't. The right way.
(Chat ends—Timestamp: 23:12 PM)
Brendon watched as Robert's fingers clenched into fists.
Robert muttered, "What the hell… Bronson…? You mean our grumpy, stick-up-his-ass Bronson is behind racial misconduct?"
Brendon exhaled. "Yeah. Plus—"
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded newspaper clipping. He laid it on the desk, smoothing out the creases. It was an old article, one detailing an incident decades ago—another case of racial targeting, one that involved Bronson's father.
Robert's face darkened. "You're saying this is a generational thing? That he's carrying on his old man's legacy?"
Brendon's voice was cold. "It's not just about being a racist, Robert. Think about it. Bronson is a man in power. If he's capable of this, what else is he capable of?"
Robert hesitated. His loyalty to the town, to its people, was clashing with the evidence in front of him. "Even if this proves he's a racist… that doesn't mean he murdered a teenager, Brendon. That's a big leap."
Brendon's jaw tightened. "Don't be an emotional fool. Get a grip on yourself."
Robert's nostrils flared. "Excuse me?"
Brendon's voice was level but firm. "You don't have to believe me. But facts don't lie, Robert. If you really want the truth, then help me prove it."
Robert hesitated for a moment before letting out a slow breath. "What are you thinking?"
Brendon smirked, a dangerous glint in his eyes.
"I'm going to set a trap."
---
Brendon left the library with his plan forming rapidly in his mind. To catch a predator, you have to make them think they're in control. Bronson was careful—if it had not something to do with Bradley's disappearance, he wouldn't act recklessly. But if someone pushed the right buttons? If someone made Bronson feel cornered? That's when people show their true selves.
Outside the Library – A Call to Ricci
Brendon stepped outside, letting the cool morning air clear his head as he dialed Ricci's number.
After a few rings, Ricci picked up. "Brendon, good timing. I was just about to call you."
Brendon's grip on the phone tightened. "Did you find Bradley?"
"Yeah. That punk is actually outside the town," Ricci replied. "Just saw him in a cabin in the woods."
Brendon exhaled sharply. "Okay, I'm coming."
He ended the call and took off toward his car. The trap for Bronson would have to wait—first, he needed to find Bradley.
As he drove off in a taxi, his mind raced with possibilities. If Bradley had gone into hiding, that meant he feared retaliation. That meant Bronson wants to kill him or something like that.
And that meant Bronson wasn't just a suspect.
He was a threat.