Page 43 of Tracking Safety

“I look forward to it.”

Fenn tucked the clipboard under his arm. “Have a good afternoon, Mr. King.”

He walked back toward his county vehicle.

Caleb appeared at his shoulder. “Well . . . that looked interesting.”

“He didn’t deny a connection to the Hardings. Didn’t confirm it either.”

Fenn pulled from the gravel driveway and turned onto the road.

The door of the main house opened behind him, and Luke turned to find Naomi on the porch, Grace balanced on her hip. She had temporary custody of the six-month-old. The child was Richard Harding’s daughter.

Temporary was the word that kept Luke up at night. Grace’s uncle, Dale, had filed for custody weeks ago, and the hearing was coming up soon. On paper a blood relative outranked a houseful of people Grace wasn’t related to at all. The fact that the Kings were the only family the baby had ever known might not count for much in front of a judge.

One more thing balanced on a knife’s edge. One more reason he couldn’t afford whatever Fenn and the Hardings were circling toward.

She looked at Luke. “Was that who I think it was?”

“Roger Fenn.”

Her jaw tightened. “That’s what I thought. I called Kori. I guess she’ll be getting here too late.”

Kori Hutchins was not only the newest attorney in town, but she was also dating Wyatt.

“I’d love to hear her take on the situation,” Luke said.

Because he needed to nip this problem in the bud.

As Wes stepped away to call one of his contacts, Jenna remained at the table. Remington was with her, and she felt safer with the dog around.

She’d always wanted to get a dog when she and Luke had been together. Luke hadn’t been in favor. He’d said they had enough on their plates with the kids, and she couldn’t argue that.

Still, dogs added so much to life. They were instant companions and protectors.

Maybe one day, she’d finally get the dog she’d always wanted.

She turned her glass in slow circles on the table and watched the street through the window.

Only half of her sandwich was gone, and she’d hardly tasted any of it. She forced herself to take another bite before setting the sandwich down again.

Think about something else besides almost being killed.

Luke’s face slammed into her mind.

She’d had two years to imagine what seeing him again might look like. She’d run through their “reunion” so many times that she thought she’d accounted for every version—his anger, his coldness, his refusal to hear her out.

What she hadn’t accounted for was the way his composure had cracked for that one unguarded moment. She hadn’t considered the raw look underneath his expression that he’d put away so fast she almost wondered if she’d imagined it.

Sitting in this restaurant, she understood that whatever happened next—whatever Wes found out, whatever Luke decided, whatever the Barone organization had or hadn’t sent to Blue Ridge Hollow—the hardest part of coming back wasn’t the danger.

It was this. Being close enough to see what she’d done to Luke and not being able to fix it.

The chair across from her scraped back.

She looked up. Wes settled into his seat, his grim expression setting off all her senses.

Her back muscles tightened. “Tell me.”