Lessons in Betrayal (Chapter Three)

Chapter 3
Hack walked into the stuffy sheriff's office around four thirty. Chief Baker was in his usual position behind his desk with his feet up and a cup of coffee in his hand listening to an oldies station on the radio. "Twist and Shout" gave way to "Teen Angel" as Baker plopped his feet to the floor and rolled himself out of the chair when he heard the door close.
"Are you trying the "sweat it out" approach to weight loss? It's like a sauna in here."
"Hack, do you always need to be a smart ass?"
"C'mon Chief, just teasing... but it is hot in here."
"The AC is on the fritz and won't be fixed until t'morra aft'noon. What'ya doin' here? It's a little too early in the day early to give yer'self up for thumpin up all the folks at the bar."
"I'm never going to live that one down, am I?"
"I still think you had help. No one could take on fifteen drunken rednecks and still walk away unharmed."
"Unharmed? My heart was broke because I didn't get to finish the only beer I bought that night!"
The chief let out a small chuckle and slowly shook his head.
"Seriously Chief, I found this in the creek between my house and town. I want to turn it in and give the owner a chance to claim it."
As Hack removed the computer from the bag and set it on the counter, he noticed an odd expression on the chief's face. Recognition...? Stifled surprise...? Maybe nothing... The chief looked it over briefly, then held up a finger as if to say "just a minute" and went to his desk and rifled through some papers. After a few seconds of what appeared to be aimless puttering, the chief said, "Hold on son, I need to make a call."
It was only a matter of seconds from the time he went into the back room, to the time that he came out. Baker rubbed a hand over his balding head and let a tired sigh escape his lips; a nervous habit that Hack himself is guilty of.
The chief hesitated briefly then said, "It's your lucky day son, there's a reward for this here machine."
"Chief, I don't want a reward. What I want is to give this thing to Dave. I know it's not the right thing to do, but I know what it can do for him."
"Well ain't that charitable of you boy? You can give him the reward if that does ya. But I got a job to uphold. What would I do if that feller that owns this thing come in here and I tell him I give it away? He be a right mad at me, an' I can't be havin' that."
"You're right chief, but Dave will be crushed."
"Now, now, Hack, he be a big boy, an' he be gittin' over it."
Hack wiped the sweat from the tip of his nose with the back of hand and absent mindedly wiped it on the seat of his already damp jeans. "Brown Eyed Girl" droned in the background. He picked up the ADA and handed it across the counter to the chief. The chief grabbed it with one hand, looked at Hack, then hesitated before grabbing it with the other hand, gently pulling it from Hack's hands to his.
"There now, that didn't hurt now did it?"
Hack couldn't help but notice how the chief eyeballed the ADA with what appeared to be greed.
"Don't run away son, we still have b'ness to tend to."
The chief carried the computer into the back room came back with a large pile of cash and set it on the counter in front of Hack. Five stacks of one hundred dollar bills still in bank wrap. Dumbfounded, Hack looked at the chief, who had a "just screwed your wife" sneer on his face. He was never particularly fond of the chief, but at that moment he hated him. Without another word, Hack picked up the money and walked out without looking back. Shutting out the closing bars of "Brown Eyed Girl" as the door banged shut behind him.

Even the heat of the late afternoon sun was a relief from the heat of Baker's office. Hack sat in the driver's seat of Jim's red chevy half ton and replayed the scene at the sheriff's office. "Something doesn't set well. I need to find Dave. Maybe he can help me sort this out," he thought to himself.
Hack pulled out of the parking lot and headed across town toward Dave's house. Approaching Jerry's Bar and Grill, he spotted Dave's silver Explorer in the lot.

Hack pushed open the plywood repaired door, to a blast of Garth Brooks from the jukebox and the smell of stale beer. As his eyes adjusted to the dark, he could see Dave's reflection in the mirror over the bar. He had his elbows on the bar and his head in his hands; totally entranced by his mug of draft.
Hack walked across the cracked and uneven tile floor and rested his hand on Dave's shoulder.
"Dave, I need to talk to you!"
Dave slowly turned around and wobbly got off from the bar stool.
"Hack where's the computer?" Dave said through a cold stare.
It was obvious that Dave had been drinking for awhile. This is not like him, especially this early in the day during the week.
"Dave, is everything alright?"
"Where's the computer, Hack?"
"Baker has it."
"Since when did you start doing the right thing Hack, were you hoping for a reward?"
"Well there was..."
"Shut up Hack, I didn't think you would do this to me. I never thought you would sell me."
"I..."
"Never mind, I don't want to hear your whining excuses."
Dave threw a twenty on the bar and walked out. Hack stood in complete shock at the turn of events that just occurred. It wasn't only shock, he was hurt. He and Dave had been through a lot together. He couldn't believe Dave wouldn't even listen to his side of the story.
As he watched Dave walk out the door and drive away, he wondered what there was to this story that he didn't know. He decided he should go home and try to clear his mind.
If he had only known how things were going to turn out, he would have stayed there and drank.