Page 22 of Crossfire Creek Vengeance

“Please,” Jessa said.

“Yeah,” Deacon added. “Black.”

Shade huffed. “I’ll take a refill.” He motioned to the cup already on the table.

She nodded and walked off, the bell above the kitchen door jingling as she disappeared.

The moment she was out of earshot, Jessa turned on Shade. “Why did you want this meeting? And how did you know Deacon was going to be ambushed tonight?”

Shade rested his elbows on the table, hands clasped, eyes darting between them like he was weighing how much to reveal.

“I found out about the hit on the dark web,” he said finally. “Someone was looking for assistance bringing a dirty cop to justice.”

Deacon felt his pulse spike, and his jaw muscles felt as if they’d turned to iron. “Dirty cop?” he repeated, low and lethal. “You want to rethink that phrasing?”

Shade lifted a shoulder, unimpressed. “Wasn’t my wording, Sheriff.” He snarled the title like profanity. “I’m just telling you what was posted.”

“Who posted it?” Deacon snapped.

Shade met his stare head-on, eyes cold. “I. Don’t. Know.”

Deacon didn’t believe him, not fully. He also didn’t look away. Shade didn’t either. Between them, the space filled with something sharp, tense, and dangerous because somebody out there wanted Deacon dead… maybe Jessa, too, and Shade was sitting way too comfortable with that knowledge.

Shade leaned back as the coffees arrived, nodding his thanks to the waitress without taking his eyes off Deacon. The second she was gone, he exhaled as if he was tired of carrying secrets. Or tired of pretending not to have them.

“Look,” Shade said, lowering his voice, “it could’ve been Wynn who posted that request. He’s unhinged enough, grief-crazy enough, pissed-off enough to outsource violence if it gets him what he wants.”

Deacon didn’t argue. Not yet.

“But,” Shade continued, tapping a thick finger against the table, “you two need to be real damn careful about Corbin Knox.”

“We’re already there,” Deacon muttered. “Don’t trust him.”

“Never did,” Jessa added.

Shade nodded. “Good. Because something about the way those posts were worded… the phrasing, the cadence… it reminded me of him.”

Deacon frowned. “You saying Corbin was the one hiring guns on the dark web?”

“I’m saying the poster knew the system, but not like a pro.” Shade sipped his coffee, his eyes narrowing. “This was someone reckless. Someone arrogant. Someone who wanted things to hurt. And someone who thought they were smarter than they are. That’s Corbin all over.”

Deacon sat back, the pieces shifting in his head. The ambush. There could have indeed been two of them.

“So you think Corbin is hiring out attacks now?” Deacon asked Shade. “Why? What’s the play?”

The man shrugged. “Ask him. I’m just telling you what I think could be true.”

“And what aren’t you telling us?” Deacon pushed.

Shade stiffened. Just slightly, but enough.

“Let’s cut through the crap,” Deacon growled. “Do you have any reason to set up Corbin or Wynn? Any reason to drag Jessa into this? Or attack me?”

Jessa shot him a warning look, but he didn’t back off.

Shade’s eyes flashed, a hit of anger quick and hot. “You think I’d put a target on Jessa?” he growled. “You think I dragged my ass out here to play some game with your life?”

“You tell me,” Deacon shot back, unmoved.