Lyle leaned forward, scanning the article Joe had pulled up. His blood ran cold. "He's been sued three times for fraudulent business practices?"
"All settled out of court with non-disclosure agreements. But yeah, he's not exactly running a clean operation."
"What about the company that put in the bid on Heather's property?"
Joe clicked through a few more screens. "Haven't traced that connection yet, but I'm working on it. My gut says it's all related though."
Lyle paced the kitchen, his mind racing. "We need to warn her."
"Already thinking ahead of you," Joe said, reaching for his phone. "I've got a buddy in the DA's office in Dallas. I'll see what else we can dig up on Richards. Meanwhile, you might want to keep a close eye on Heather. This guy doesn't seem like the type to take no for an answer."
"Yeah." Lyle's voice was tight with concern. "I got that impression myself."
Just then, the sound of small feet padding down the hallway caught their attention. Charlotte appeared in the doorway, clutching Pudge to her chest, her eyes wide with fear.
"Uncle Lyle? I heard a noise outside my window."
Lyle was at her side in an instant, kneeling down to her level. "What kind of noise, sweetheart?"
"Like someone walking. And Pepper started growling."
Joe was already moving, his military training kicking in as he headed toward the front door. Lyle scooped Charlotte up, cat and all.
"It's probably just the wind," he said soothingly, though his entire body was on high alert. "But we’ll go check it out anyway."
He carried Charlotte back to her room, noting that both puppies were indeed on edge, their little bodies tense as they stared toward the window. Setting Charlotte on the bed, he moved to peer outside.
The moon cast enough light to illuminate the yard, and for a moment, everything seemed still. Then he caught it—a shadow moving off in the distance. In the direction of Heather's cabin. He nearly cursed the fact that he couldn’t actually see the cabin due to the bend in the pathway.
"Stay right here," he told Charlotte, his voice firm but gentle. "I'm going to make sure everything's okay."
Joe appeared in the doorway. “I called Kenny. He’s headed over.”
Lyle nodded and glanced at Charlotte. Joe understood. He’d stay with her.
Grabbing his phone, he made a quick detour into his room and retrieved his nine-millimeter Glock, checked the magazine, then headed out into the night, his steps quick but careful as he made his way toward Heather's place.
As he got closer, he saw that her porch light was on, and he could hear the sound of her dogs barking inside. His heart rate kicked up a notch.
Something wasn't right.
"Heather?" he called out, not wanting to startle her if she was already aware of the disturbance.
The door flew open, and she emerged with a baseball bat in her hands, her face pale but determined in the yellow porch light.
"Someone's out here," she whispered urgently.
"I know. I saw them from Charlotte's window." He moved closer, placing himself between her and the darkness beyond the porch.
But before either of them could move, the sound of an engine roaring to life shattered the quiet night. Headlights flashed as a vehicle—a dark crew cab pickup—peeled out from behind Heather's cabin, tires throwing gravel as it sped away.
Heather's grip on the baseball bat tightened, her knuckles white. "That's the same truck I saw in town."
"The one that spooked you earlier?"
She nodded, her voice barely a whisper. "It's like Bret's truck."
"Bret?"
