Back in my room now. Boots drying by the heater, hands still shaking from the day, rain hitting the window like it’s trying to punch its way through. Something shifted hard today. Lines got drawn. Today was the first real move in the fight for justice in Port Townsend, and I can feel the weight of it sitting heavy in the center of my chest.
Morning — Starting the Fight for Justice in Port Townsend
Walt was already in the shop when I walked in, lights flickering overhead, sawdust floating in the cold air. Mara stood near the window staring out at the water, arms folded tight like she was bracing for impact.
“We need someone who won’t back down,” Walt said. “I know a lawyer up in town — Claire Reddick. Tough as nails. Doesn’t scare easy. If anyone can handle this properly, it’s her.”
We grabbed the laptop with the security footage — the video of Eddie being shoved into the black SUV — and headed out together. No one talked. There wasn’t anything left to say.
Claire Reddick
Her office sits above an old insurance storefront — paint peeling around the windows, brass plaque worn dull. A place built for fighting, not impressing. Inside, the air smelled like paper, rain, and old wood. Shelves crowded with files. Certificates on the wall, not displayed — just existing, like facts do.
Claire leaned forward as she watched the footage. Jaw tight. Eyes sharp. Hands still. She didn’t blink.
She ran the footage a second time, slower, leaning so close her breath fogged the laptop screen.
“This is evidence,” she said. “Not enough to win a case yet — but enough to force outside scrutiny. Once this goes public, Greaves won’t be able to keep every door closed.”
She studied each of our faces before continuing.
“You understand what stepping into this means? Once you start the fight for justice in Port Townsend, you don’t get to step back out.”
Nobody said a word. Nobody hesitated.
“Good,” she said. “Then bring me statements from anyone who saw something, and get Eddie’s testimony directly. I’ll prepare filings. Move fast, before someone tries to make this disappear.”
Walt nodded. Mara looked like she was holding her breath.
We left the office with something we hadn’t had in days: direction.
County Jail
The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead like they were ready to fall. Eddie looked rough — face bruised, hands shaking, eyes firing between shame and fear.
“They threatened Anna,” he said right away. “Told me if I didn’t go along, they’d make sure she paid for it.”
He told us everything:
- Forced into the back of the black SUV at the marina
- Driven to a warehouse outside town where his truck was already parked
- Something tossed into the glovebox by the suits
- Phone taken
- Ordered to drive away alone
- Pulled over minutes later after an anonymous tip
“I thought keeping quiet would protect her,” he whispered. “But I was wrong.”
Mara put her hand over his, firm and steady.
“You’re not alone anymore,” she said.
I slid a printed still frame across the table — Eddie being shoved into the SUV.
He stared at it like it cracked open the world.
“They didn’t know about this,” he said. “They didn’t know anyone saw.”
Exactly.
The Counterpunch
Back at the marina, we duplicated the footage six different ways — cloud copies, USB sticks, encrypted email to Claire, backup to someone outside town. Insurance.
When we stepped outside, headlights swept across the wet pavement — the black SUV pulling into the yard. Two silhouettes behind the glass. Engine idling. No movement. No words.
Just pressure.
They stayed long enough to make sure the message hit. Then pulled away slow, like they owned the ground under them.
Not anymore.
Where It Stands
The fight for justice in Port Townsend isn’t quiet now.
We crossed a line today.
There’s no walking backward from this.
Sand Rating
6 / 10 — structure cracking
They wanted silence.
Tonight we started making noise.
— BG
🌊 Travel light. Swing hard.
Leave a Reply