Chapter 40 #2
“Sorry I couldn’t come sooner,” he said and bent to kiss Ava’s cheek.
“Had poachers going after the buffalo heard in the canyon. By the time I wrapped that mess up and found out what happened, it was already over.” He set the grocery bag on the counter and began unpacking—takeaway containers of homemade stew, a loaf of crusty bread from Nessie’s Place, and a bottle of moonshine.
“Thought you two might need something stronger than tea after today.”
“Always thinking of others,” Ava said, patting his arm before shuffling to the kitchen for glasses. “Such a good boy.”
Julius’s gaze found Naomi, concern etched across his handsome features. “You okay, cuz?”
Her eyes suddenly burned, and she blinked against the tears. “It’s been a hell of a day.”
Julius set the grocery bag down and moved toward her, arms open for a hug.
She stepped into his embrace automatically, letting herself be enveloped in the familiar scent of pine and leather that had meant safety since childhood.
His arms tightened around her, and for a moment, she allowed herself to lean into his strength.
“I saw the videos,” “I heard what happened,” he said, his voice rumbling against her cheek. “Ghost really went berserk and did a number on Mitch.”
The casual dismissal of Owen’s actions made her stiffen. “He wasn’t going berserk. He was responding to a threat. He was protecting me.”
“By assaulting a tribal officer in front of half the town?” Julius shook his head, his expression darkening. “That’s not protection, Naomi. That’s a man with control issues who clearly has a history of violence. You’ve heard the rumors about what he did before coming to Valor Ridge.”
“Rumors that aren’t true,” Naomi said, pulling away from his embrace. The warmth of his hug turned cold, and she rubbed her arms where he’d touched her.
Julius sighed and held up his hands. “Hey, I’m on your side here. I’m just worried about you. This guy shows up, and suddenly you’re in the middle of all this chaos.” He ran a hand through his dark hair. “First the abduction, now this. It’s like you keep inviting danger into your life.”
“I didn’t invite any of this,” Naomi snapped. The anger felt good—better than the guilt and fear that had been eating her alive all evening. “I’m trying to find answers about Mary Rose, about Leelee. About all the women who’ve disappeared.”
“And I respect that. I do.” Julius moved to the counter, reaching for the moonshine and three glasses Ava had set out. “But there are safer ways to go about it. Ways that don’t end with your boyfriend assaulting a tribal officer.”
“He’s not my—” Naomi began automatically, then stopped herself. What was Owen to her? Lover? Protector? Something more complicated that didn’t have a neat label?
Julius poured three fingers of clear liquid into each glass and handed one to her. “All I’m saying is, be careful. The company you keep says a lot about you. And that guy...” He shook his head. “He’s trouble, Naomi. The kind that gets people hurt.”
She accepted the glass but didn’t drink, the moonshine burning her nostrils as she inhaled. “You don’t know him.”
“I know men like him.” Julius’s voice hardened slightly, a flash of something cold crossing his face before it smoothed into concern again. “Dangerous men who think violence solves problems. Men who drag down everyone around them.”
Ava made a dismissive sound as she took her own glass. “Some problems need solving with teeth, not talk.”
“Not you too, Grandmother,” Julius groaned, but there was affection in his exasperation. He raised his glass. “To family. The only ones who’ll always have your back.”
Naomi lifted her glass but didn’t drink. The words felt hollow, a platitude that couldn’t begin to address the storm raging inside her. Family hadn’t saved Mary Rose. Family hadn’t protected Leelee. Family hadn’t kept her from being abducted and beaten.
Owen had saved her. Owen, who wasn’t family but had become something just as essential.
“Did you hear about Sampson Padilla?” she asked, setting her untouched glass on the coffee table. “He’s dead. Apparent suicide.”
Julius’s expression shifted, a flash of something—surprise? Concern?—crossing his features before settling into appropriate gravity. “Jesus. When?”
“Last night,” Naomi said, feeling strangely hollow as she formed the words. “Sheriff Goodwin says he left a note confessing to Leelee’s murder.”
Julius’s eyes widened. “A confession? That’s... unexpected.”
“It’s bullshit. Sampson wouldn’t hurt Leelee. He loved her like a daughter.”
Julius took a long sip of his moonshine, his throat working as he swallowed. “People aren’t always what they seem, cuz. You know that better than anyone.”
Something in his tone made her pause. She studied his face—the perfect composure, the practiced concern in his eyes.
Had he always been this... polished? This careful?
“Goodwin’s saying Sampson was mixed up with the cartel,” she continued, watching for his reaction. “That Leelee was collateral damage.”
Julius nodded slowly. “Makes sense. His shop was struggling. Eddie mentioned he’d been acting strange lately.”
“Since when do you talk to Eddie Padilla?”
“Small town.” He shrugged. “Our paths cross. Besides, I’ve been keeping tabs on the case. For you.”
Ava shuffled back to her rocking chair, moonshine untouched in her hand. “Strange timing, a suicide right when the federal men start poking around.”
“Very strange,” Naomi agreed, not taking her eyes off Julius.
He sighed and set down his glass. “Look, I get it. You want there to be some big conspiracy because it’s easier than accepting the truth—that sometimes the simplest explanation is the right one.
” His voice softened. “I wanted that for Mary Rose too. Remember? I couldn’t accept that she’d just run away. But she did.”
“No, she didn’t,” Naomi said automatically. The familiar argument felt like picking at a scab that had never fully healed. “She was taken.”
“Maybe,” Julius conceded. “But after all these years with no evidence...” He trailed off, shaking his head. “Sometimes we have to let go, Naomi. For our own sanity.”
“Let go?” The words tasted like ash in her mouth, and she stood, suddenly unable to remain still. “No. I won’t. Everyone else let go of Mary Rose the second she was gone. They let go of Alice Dougherty. They let go of Leelee.”
“Naomi—”
“No,” she cut him off. “Sheriff Goodwin is covering something up. Sampson’s ‘suicide’ is too convenient. And now Deveraux—” She stopped abruptly, a terrible thought forming. “Wait. How did you know it was Mitch that Owen attacked?”
Julius blinked. “What?”
“You said Owen ‘did a number on Mitch.’ If you were in the canyon, out of cell service, then how did you know?”
Julius stared at her for a beat too long before his face smoothed into an easy smile. “It’s all over social media, cuz. Half the town was recording it on their phones.”
The explanation made sense, but something cold slithered down Naomi’s spine. She touched the fox pendant at her throat, drawing comfort from its solid weight.
“Right,” she said. “Of course.”
“You’re exhausted,” Julius said, his voice gentle. “Seeing threats everywhere. It’s understandable after what you’ve been through.”
Naomi swallowed, suddenly aware of how isolated they were in Ava’s cabin at the edge of town. No Owen. No backup. Just her, her grandmother, and her cousin, who suddenly felt like a stranger despite the familiar face.
Julius drained his glass. “Jesus. Sampson?” He shook his head and turned away to pour another one. “I can’t believe he’d strangle Leelee with her own stockings. You think you know a guy.”
At Naomi’s sharp intake of breath, he froze, then very slowly set the bottle down.
“Fuck.” He turned, and the look in his eyes had her taking a step back, knocking her shoulder into the wall. “I wasn’t supposed to know that detail, was I?”