Richard steps forward, carefully removing his backpack. “Everything, Jake. Exactly where Thomas said it would be.”
One of the RCMP officers—Sergeant Miller, I think—moves closer. “Is that what I think it is?”
“Evidence of fraud, corruption, and murder dating back to 1905,” Richard confirms, placing the waterproof bag containing the documents on the table. “Along with enough gold to prove that Thomas Wolf’s claim was legitimate all along.”
The sergeant whistles low. “That’s quite a find.”
“One that nearly got us killed,” I add, unable to keep the edge from my voice. “Mayor Hawthorne showed up with reinforcements just as we were leaving.”
“That fits with what we’ve been hearing,” Constable Cook says, her sharp eyes taking in our disheveled appearance. “Declan has briefed us on the situation—the mining company’s history, the suspicious death at the ridge, the mayor’s involvement. It’s a lot to process, but the evidence you’ve brought back could be the key to unraveling everything.”
Julia, who has been uncharacteristically quiet since our escape, suddenly speaks up. “So what happens now? Are you arresting the mayor? Taking over the investigation?”
“It’s not quite that simple,” Sergeant Miller explains. “We need to review the evidence, establish jurisdiction, and build a proper case. But yes, we’re taking this very seriously.”
Declan motions us toward the dining room table, where maps and documents are spread out. “We’ve been planning next steps. The RCMP has agreed to protect us while we sort through the evidence and prepare formal complaints against NTM and Hawthorne.”
“What about Margret?” Richard asks quietly, his voice betraying his lingering hurt.
“We’re still determining her level of involvement,” Constable Cook says diplomatically. “Her calling Hawthornes complicates matters, but it doesn’t necessarily make her criminally liable.”
Caleb leans forward, his tactical mind already working on the problem. “Hawthorne knows we found something. He’ll be desperate to either recover it or discredit it.”
“Which is why we’re establishing a security perimeter around both properties,” Sergeant Miller explains. “No one gets in without proper clearance, not even the Pinecrest police.”
I sink into a chair, the enormity of everything finally hitting me. “So we’re essentially under police protection now?”
“More like collaborative witnesses in an ongoing investigation,” Constable Cook clarifies with a small smile. “But yes, we’re here to ensure your safety and the integrity of the evidence.”
Ella joins us, sliding a mug of hot tea in front of me. “Drink this. You look like you need it.”
I accept gratefully, wrapping my cold fingers around the warm ceramic. “Thanks.”
As the officers begin organizing the documents we’ve retrieved, I find myself watching Caleb. He’s engaged in intense conversation with Declan and Sergeant Miller, his face serious as he describes the hidden chamber and its contents. Even exhausted and trail-worn, he radiates competence and strength. When he catches me looking, his expression softens momentarily, a private acknowledgment passing between us.
“You should get some rest,” he says, breaking away from the discussion to come sit beside me. “You’ve been through a lot today.”
“We all have,” I point out, though I can’t deny the bone-deep weariness settling into me. “But I’m not sure I could sleep even if I tried. Too much adrenaline.”
He brushes a strand of hair from my face, his touch gentle. “Try anyway. We’ve got the RCMP here now. You can afford to stand down for a few hours.”
Before I can respond, the front door bursts open, and another RCMP officer hurries in. “Sergeant, we’ve got a situation. MayorHawthorne is at the property line with several officers and what appears to be a court order.”
The relative calm of the room evaporates instantly. Sergeant Miller straightens, his expression hardening. “What kind of court order?”
“He’s claiming it’s a search warrant for stolen property,” the officer reports. “Says these people trespassed on protected land and removed artifacts of historical significance.”
“That’s rich, coming from him,” I mutter, anger displacing my fatigue. “The only thing he’s interested in protecting is his family’s criminal legacy.”
“He’s trying to get ahead of this,” Declan observes grimly. “Casting himself as the victim before we can make our accusations public.”
Sergeant Miller exchanges a look with Constable Cook. “I’ll handle this. Cook, secure the evidence. No one touches anything until I return.”
As the sergeant strides toward the door, Caleb rises to follow. “I’m coming with you.”
“Me too,” I say, standing despite my exhaustion. I catch Caleb’s concerned glance and smile, “I’m supposed to be a journalist, remember? I should document this. And Julia should come too, she’s my cameraman.”
“I’m coming!!” Julia yells, grabbing her cellphone off the table.
