Across the table, Dad’s face pinched in alarm. “Son, what’s wrong? You all right?”
Trevor leaned forward, suspicion flashing in his eyes. “Why do you look like you just dodged a bullet? What aren’t you telling us?”
The laughter cut off as abruptly as it had started, leaving my throat raw and my chest burning. I dragged both hands down my face, trying to breathe, but the truth was already clawing its way out.
“Because it wasn’t just about a bale,” I said, my voice rough, uneven. “They came into my house. Held Jasmine and me at gunpoint. Told us to find what they thought was missing. After that, I kept seeing the same car tailing me for weeks. Then—nothing. Until now.”
The silence was heavier than a storm front.
Dad’s face drained of color. “Jesus Christ.”
Trevor cursed, shoving back from the bench. “And you didn’t think to tell me? Any of us?”
Spence’s jaw tightened. Reef’s hands curled into fists against the tabletop, knuckles white. Nobody had to speak—the way their shoulders stiffened, the way their eyes darted, said enough.
Faith let out a slow breath, her expression tight but not surprised. “That… would explain the pressure you’ve been under.”
Waylan’s jaw snapped tight. “And you didn’t report it? You were held at gunpoint in your own home, tailed for weeks, and you kept that to yourself? We could’ve helped. Maybe even caught the bastards.”
I met his glare, pulse still hammering. “Or made it worse. Unless you bagged the guys they worked for too, coming forward would’ve painted a target on every one of us. Reporting it would’ve just told their boss exactly who to silence. We had to buy time.”
The sheriff shook his head, disgust etched deep. “Hell of a gamble, son.”
“Yeah,” I said, voice flat. “But we’re sitting here breathing, aren’t we? Sometimes gambling’s all you’ve got.”
Dad gave a slow nod, though his eyes stayed hard.
I let out a long breath, my pulse finally leveling. “Sometimes gambling pays off. Still… I was beginning to think maybe you were right, Dad. Remember after Kylie died, when you said maybe we were cursed?” My throat tightened as I forced a half-smile. “I’ve been carrying that in the back of my mind ever since.”
Faith leaned in, her gaze cutting sharp again. “Kylie’s murder was no curse, Kai. It was a hit. Narco ties. That’s not rumor—that’s fact. But as for whether it connects to the same players shaking you down now? Less likely. Could be coincidence. Could be overlap. We can’t say for sure.”
Her eyes slid to Coulter. “And your mom… that was a heart attack, wasn’t it?”
Coulter nodded slowly, but Dad leaned forward, bristling. “That’s what the report said. But I never believed it. Your mother was healthy as a horse.”
The words made my chest cinch tight. Mom’s laugh in the kitchen, dirt under her nails from the garden—those memories didn’t belong anywhere near the filth of narcos and cover-ups. I hated the thought of her name tangled in it.
Faith’s brows lifted, like she wanted to dismiss it, but something in her expression flickered. “Strange, I’ll give you that. Two drownings tied to one family, in a place this small—it’s unusual.” She turned to Waylan. “Ever cross your mind there might be a connection?”
Waylan shifted, heavy in his uniform, his tone flat. “Only as an intuition. Nothing more than that.”
Faith nodded once. “Sometimes intuition’s enough.” She scanned the table, sharp eyes catching the sidelong glances, the tension in every jaw. “If you want me to open an investigation—”
“No.” The word tore out of me harsher than I meant. I shook my head. “I’m not suggesting that. Quite the opposite. I don’t want any more investigations. Not into my mom. Not into anything. We caught a break here, and I’d rather move on with our lives.”
The silence stretched, glances trading across the table—Reef to Spence, Coulter to Dad, all of them avoiding Faith’s eye. She caught it all, reading the silence like testimony.
Spence finally gave a short nod, like he’d been expecting me to shut it down. “He’s right. Enough digging for one lifetime.”
Faith’s mouth tightened, but she leaned back in her seat. “Alright. Just know the offer stands if anyone changes their mind.”
I turned to her. “So this fed who dug into the numbers—you called him?”
“I did,” she said evenly.
“I guess we have you to thank.”
Her eyes flicked toward Jasmine, just for a second. “You don’t have to thank me. I’m just doing my job.”
