Page 36 of Crossfire Creek Vengeance

But he wasn’t alone.

A second figure sat in the passenger seat. Corbin Knox.

Jessa’s stomach dropped. “What the hell is he doing there?” she asked in a whisper.

Deacon zoomed in until the image blurred. “Trying to see if Wynn’s holding him at gunpoint,” he muttered. “But I can’t get a clear read.”

Corbin didn’t look restrained. Didn’t look terrified. If anything, he looked… calm. Focused. Watching the road like he expected them.

“We’re not walking into that blind,” Deacon said, voice clipped.

He grabbed his phone and dialed. “Raines to dispatch. I need units en route to my residence, end of the main road. Requesting backup for arrest of suspect, Marty Wynn.”

He listened, jaw tight, then ended the call. “My county deputies are on the way,” he relayed to her. “ETA twenty minutes.”

Twenty minutes. A lot could happen during that short time.

Deacon turned back to his phone, this time scrolling to Corbin’s number. He hit call and stared at the security monitor, jaw tight. On-screen, Corbin glanced down at his vibrating phone. His expression didn’t shift. No hesitation. He answered.

This time, Deacon hit speaker. “Corbin, why are you here?”

“Wynn asked me to come as a witness.” Corbin’s voice came through the speakers, smooth and too calm for someone sitting with a man accused of attempted murder.

“A witness for what?” Jessa snapped.

Corbin looked straight at Wynn, as if checking for permission before answering. “He says he wants to clear his name. Says he didn’t try to kill you two.”

Beside him, Wynn leaned closer to the phone, his voice ragged but certain. “I didn’t. I swear it. I only want the truth about Lauren’s murder. Someone killed her, and Noah needs to pay for what he did.”

A knot twisted in Jessa’s gut, anger, grief, confusion all snarled together. Deacon didn’t hide his skepticism.

“You’re pointing fingers without proof, Wynn. If you want us to believe you, start talking,” Deacon snapped out. “And no, don’t demand that Jessa and I meet you at the end of the road where you or someone else could have the chance to ambush us.”

Wynn didn’t answer. Jessa watched on the monitor as he stared out the windshield, jaw grinding.

Corbin huffed. “Wynn and I don’t agree on everything. I’m not convinced it’s Noah. The guy’s clean. Almost too clean.”

Jessa stiffened. “Then who do you think killed my mother?”

Corbin hesitated, just long enough to set off every warning bell in her head. Finally, he said, “Shade.”

Not a surprise since she suspected him, too. “You really think Shade killed Lauren?” she pressed.

“I think he could have,” Corbin replied. “He had access to her files. She suspected he hacked her more than once. And he had reason—debts, leverage, blackmail material. Something went wrong between them. He’s not telling you everything.”

Wynn let out a sharp, dismissive breath beside him, shaking his head. “It wasn’t Shade,” he muttered. “It was Noah.”

Jessa stared at the grainy footage. Wynn agitated, Corbin tense but composed. Two men with two different stories… and neither one she fully trusted.

Not even close.

On the screen, Wynn leaned forward, gripping the steering wheel as if it were the only thing keeping him tethered to reality. “If you want to keep talking, you come to the end of the road,” he demanded.

Deacon opened his mouth, probably to shut that down hard, but Jessa touched his arm, stepping closer to the laptop.

She raised her voice just enough for Wynn and Corbin to hear through the phone. “Wynn… if you really believe Noah is trying to kill us, kill you, then meeting in the open is a bad idea. If he’s the threat, then any one of his operatives could be watching us right now.”

Wynn’s head snapped toward the tree line on the security feed. Paranoia flickered across his features, sharp and visible even through grainy footage. He scanned the road. The brush. The sky. His breathing picked up.