And now Tessa.
Caleb blew out a breath and shook his head. Talk about worst timing ever. In the middle of trying to figure out this case, he was falling for the girl next door—the one he’d had a crush on in high school and definitely had a thing for now.
The woman she’d become was exactly who he wanted to come home to. Her warmth and sweetness were nothing like the world he lived in. She was a refuge, a place he found solace.
And his life might be the thing that ended hers.
A shadow darkened the doorway, the shuffle of movement bringing his head up. “Pops.”
“You haven’t sat on the floor in a long time.”
Caleb shrugged. Pops came over and sat on the end of the twin bed that was Noah’s. The one with the rumpled covers, from Tessa sleeping there last night while Caleb camped out on the couch.
“Everything okay?”
“I’m just trying to figure this out.”
Pops said, “We need another pot of coffee for that.”
He wanted to argue that all of life’s problems couldn’t be solved by simply brewing another pot of coffee…but Caleb wasn’t sure there was evidence it didn’t work. Seemed like a lot of the time it did.
“I should get going soon,” Caleb said. “The shipping place opens in forty minutes.”
Pops nodded. “Show me what you’ve got. Maybe I can help.”
The old man always said that. He was smart, but no one was good at everything. He’d try and help with homework by making suggestions. Sometimes they actually helped Caleb figure out the answer, even though Pops had no idea how to do pre-Calculus.
Pops studied the invoice while Caleb looked at the photo, a grainy image of Nathan Kessler in a suit. That street could be so many places across the world. Who knew where it was taken, or who took it.
Caleb didn’t think he could get any valuable intel from this image. He flipped it over.
Huh.
A series of numbers had been handwritten on the back of the image, ones he hadn’t noticed before. They were faint, in pencil in the corner.
He typed the first set of numbers into a web search and discovered it was a SWIFT bank identifier code for a branch of a worldwide bank in Zurich.
“Now we’re getting somewhere.”
Pops said, “See? I helped.” He shook his head. “This isn’t money laundering, right? It’s just an invoice for aluminum. Not an unusual amount or price—like on TV when they order too much or overcharge.”
“Depends what it’s for, but you’re right there’s nothing unusual about that invoice.”
“What about the company, Westward Holdings?” Pops handed over the paper.
Caleb took a picture of the company name and address and ran a web search on the image. “Well, now. Look at this.”
“What is it, son?”
“The company is one owned by Newton Chathers. Isn’t he the brother of Colin Chathers, the Senator?”
“I try to ignore politics as much as I can. Unless it pertains to the ranch.”
Caleb knew that. The old man knew what he could control and didn’t stress about what he couldn’t. But he prayed for the world, the kingdom of God, and against the shedding of innocent blood every single time he said grace. Every day, every meal. He lifted up the entirety of things he couldn’t control.
It was a humbling thing to hear, realizing you were so small on such a huge planet.
“Colin Chathers is a Senator in Virginia. Supposedly he’s gearing up to announce a run in the next presidential election. And this indicates his brother and his brother’s company might be connected to Kessler.”
