The worst part? I hadn’t even asked them if I could take her on a date. Yeah. Fucking idiot.
I blink and startle. The truck has taken the turn toward the old mine shaft again. This isn’t the first time in the past month.The pull of that place always seems to find me when my mind is heavy.
I’ve always put my feelings in a box with the intention to address the box later, but that no longer works. It sure as hell won’t work with Sophie, especially now that I know what she tastes like and that she’s in danger. The memory of her mouth on mine, the way she clutched my shirt, the soft sound she made when I kissed her back… It’s all still burning under my skin.
I pull over at the junction with the ridge road. Cold sweat coats the back of my neck. Sophie has carried this fear alone. She watched a man get shot. She’s been hunted. And I sat on my feelings like a coward.
Never again.
I learned that the hard way after finding Sarah Jenkins. That’s when I made a rule for myself. I’m not waiting for perfect evidence again. If my gut says something is wrong, I move.
I drive home, park, and make it as far as my porch before I stop. I breathe in the cold air as darkness falls around me, the night air sharp with pine and distant woodsmoke. The quiet of the ridge should calm me, but tonight it only makes the weight on my chest feel heavier.
Inside my cabin, I skip dinner. What I need is sleep so I can protect Sophie properly tomorrow. But sleep doesn’t come easy. I lie in the dark staring at the ceiling, replaying every moment from the kiss to the fear in her eyes when she told me her story.
My phone rings. I bolt upright. Sunlight streams through the window. “King.”
“Reeves. I’ve got something.”
I’m on my feet. “Talk.”
“The LLC traces through three shells. Clean paperwork, all dated within the last sixteen months. Whoever set it up knew what they were doing. But the original incorporation paperwork has a notary signature I can match to a 2019 filing in Portland.That filing connects to a known associate of a guy we’ve been trying to build a case on for six years.”
“Name.”
“Chaz Volkov. Goes by his first name on the streets. He’s careful. Doesn’t carry, doesn’t get close to deals, doesn’t make calls from his own phone. We’ve had three witnesses willing to come forward and two of them died before trial. The third one walked her statement back.”
The air in my kitchen goes still. “And the fourth one is now in Lush Hollow.”
“That’s the working theory.” Reeves exhales. “I’m reading her statement now. She’s the only living witness who can put him at a scene.”
I pull on a clean uniform. “Got a description?”
“Forties. Light build. Black hair. Likes expensive watches and leather jackets. Meticulous. Patient.”
“He’s here. Tracking her.”
“I figured you wouldn’t have called if he wasn’t. I’m putting paper in front of a judge. Witness intimidation, federal obstruction. Warrant should come through in twenty-four to forty-eight hours. Sit on him until then. Don’t approach. Keep a body on Sophie Wilde if you can do it quietly.”
“Copy.”
“He waits people out, King. That’s what makes him dangerous. If he hasn’t moved on her yet, he’s waiting for an opening.”
I hang up, grab my keys, and head straight for Roz’s. On my way, I see the rental car parked two blocks from the diner.
Fuck him.
Sophie is at the back door when I pull up, apron on, hair pinned back. She sees me and comes down the steps. “Did you hear anything?”
I tell her everything. The name. The Portland connection. The associate file. The patience.
She listens, hand on the railing. Steadier than I expected. “Chaz Volkov. Okay.”
“You’re not closing the diner or going back to your apartment alone. You’ll work your morning shift while Roz and Dani are here. At one o’clock, I’ll pick you up. We’ll go to your apartment, you’ll pack a bag, and then I’m driving you to my cabin. You’ll stay there until Reeves has the warrant and Volkov is in custody. Any objections?”
“No.” She doesn’t hesitate.
I expected a fight. Her agreement hits me hard. “Good.”
