Chapter 5
Asher
Eric and Harmony were hosting another family dinner.
That wasn’t a complaint. I loved my family, but I was tired after working the orchard in the morning and running classes at the community center all afternoon.
Phoenix and Elyna were already there, Braden balanced on Elyna’s hip, his curls sticking up.
Sandy was setting out plates while Dad hovered near the counter, pretending not to oversee everything like he always did.
Becket leaned against the far wall, beer in hand, expression unreadable in that familiar cop way of his.
“Uncle Ash!” Braden shouted when he spotted me.
I smiled despite myself and scooped him up, earning a sticky-handed hug and a wet kiss on my cheek.
“Hey, buddy,” I said. “You saving any food for the rest of us?”
“No,” he said cheerfully.
Elyna laughed. “That sounds about right.”
We settled around the table, food being passed, glasses filled. For a few minutes, it was easy. Stories about Braden refusing to sleep. Phoenix complaining about work. Sandy asking Becket if there was anything to report around town.
That caused Dad’s eyebrows to rise. “Why aren’t you asking me that question?”
Sandy watched him with warm eyes. “Because you have a knack for keeping things quiet because you’re scared I might break.”
Dad winced. I don’t think Sandy was wrong. After Mom left him with five kids to raise on his own it seemed like he was scared to send Sandy running.
“Nothing major,” Becket answered.
Harmony watched it all with a soft smile, one hand resting on Eric’s arm. This was the version of family people imagined when they said the word. Halfway through dinner, Harmony leaned back slightly and tilted her head toward me.
“So,” she said casually, “I had a visitor this morning at the bakery.”
I stiffened without meaning to.
“Oh?” Eric said. “Customer or trouble?”
Harmony’s eyes sparkled. “A customer. Pretty blonde. Said she works at the orchard.”
My fork paused halfway to my mouth.
“And,” Harmony added, clearly enjoying herself now, “she mentioned you like to feed her.”
The table erupted in laughter.
Phoenix let out a low whistle. “Wow. Who’s the lucky lady, Ash?”
Sandy gasped theatrically. “Finally.”
Becket smirked. “Oh, little brother, do tell.”
I groaned.
Harmony laughed. “Relax. I’m just teasing. But she was nice. Quiet. Polite.”
Dad’s gaze sharpened immediately. “Working at the orchard?”
I shot him a look. “Don’t.”
“When did you hire her?” he asked.
“Dad,” I said. “Can we not turn this into an interrogation?”
Sandy frowned. “Leave him be, Pierre.” She leaned over and kissed Dad’s cheek, and his cheeks turned red. It was so odd to watch Dad and her together. Even after all the time that had passed.
“We should know who she is after everything this family has been through lately.” Dad shrugged.
“With all due respect, Dad, listen to Sandy,” I muttered.
Dad ignored the jab. “What’s her name?”
“Claire,” I said, more sharply than I intended.
Harmony’s smile softened. “She mentioned a best friend. Said she loved maple butter tarts.”
My chest tightened. Dad noticed.
“Asher,” he said slowly, “what’s going on?”
I exhaled hard and set my fork down. “She’s not here for trouble,” I said. “She’s here because her friend disappeared.”
The table went quiet.
“Disappeared how?” Sandy asked.
“Crossing the border,” I said. “Years ago. No body. No investigation worth a damn. She thinks Val-du-Lys has answers.”
Dad’s jaw set. “That’s dangerous.”
“I know.”
“This town doesn’t give answers easily,” Dad continued. “Especially not to outsiders.”
Harmony nodded slowly. “I understand why she’d want them.”
Dad looked at her sharply.
“She doesn’t even know me,” Harmony said. “And yet… I get it.”
She turned to me. “What’s she like?”
I hesitated. “I don’t know.”
“That’s not true,” Phoenix said.
I ran a hand through my hair. “She’s frustrating. Smart. Stubborn. Acts like she’s not scared when she clearly is.”
Harmony’s brows lifted. “She doesn’t seem like the kind of girl who’d go looking for trouble.”
“She isn’t,” I said immediately.
Then, because apparently, I was incapable of shutting up tonight, I added, “She went to the Frosted Mug. Asked about backroom poker.”
Harmony’s eyebrows shot up. “She did what?”
Becket straightened. “That’s… bold.”
“It was stupid,” I snapped. “She’s not built for that world.”
“And yet,” Harmony said gently, “she went anyway.”
I clenched my jaw. “She’s working on her master’s in criminology.”
That got Becket’s attention.
He nodded slowly. “I get it.”
Dad shifted uncomfortably.
“I understand the need to know,” Becket continued. “To close the loop. Not knowing eats at you.”
Harmony swallowed. “It does.”
She pressed her lips together. “After my mom was killed… I needed answers too. Even the ones I didn’t want.”
The table went still.
Elyna inhaled sharply. “My mom too,” she said quietly.
My chest tightened as the name settled between us like a bruise.
Elyna’s mom, Maggie, died in a car crash with Kyle Jensen in the car.
Mom and Maggie had been best friends. My sister Isabelle and I were the youngest of all my siblings.
At eighteen months apart we remembered mom less than the rest of my brothers.
Still that hadn’t stopped us from searching for answers since none of us knew why mom took off without ever looking back.
Hell it was the reason Becket became a cop and Eric was obsessed with saving every person he met.
No one spoke for a long moment. Eric finally cleared his throat. “Okay,” he said gently. “This was supposed to be a light dinner.”
Becket lifted his beer. “We’re not exactly built for light.”
A quiet, rueful chuckle moved around the table.
Eric squeezed Harmony’s hand. “Doesn’t mean we can’t try.”
I leaned back in my chair, the weight of the conversation pressing in.
Claire Segal didn’t know this family. Didn’t know how deep the scars ran here.
How many ghosts lived in Val-du-Lys. And yet somehow, she’d stepped straight into the center of it.
I didn’t trust her. But I couldn’t stop thinking about her either.
And that scared the hell out of me. After dinner, I thanked Eric and Harmony and took off towards my cabin.
I had moved into it over a year ago when Sandy started dating Dad.
I figured we could all use the space. I removed a wall that connected two cabins and opened the space so I could have a room to train and a room to sleep.
But tonight, my skin felt tight. Like I needed to head outside and let off steam.
I headed toward an area I set up for myself for training and hit the heavy bag harder than I needed to.
The chain rattled against the oak branch overhead, the sound sharp in the quiet.
My knuckles stung through the wraps, but I welcomed it.
Pain was easier than thinking. Dinner didn’t sit right.
Claire Segal didn’t sit right. I circled the bag, throwing another combination, breath steady, muscles burning.
This clearing just off to the side of the orchard was mine.
Dirt packed hard. A few mats stacked near the fence.
A bag I’d repaired more times than I could count.
Headlights flared at the edge of Maple Valley’s drive.
I stopped mid-strike and saw a car idling where it shouldn’t be.
I peeled off my wraps and jogged toward the road, irritation already curling tight in my chest. When I got closer, I recognized the car.
Claire’s. Window down. Engine running. She was staring down at something on her phone.
“Where are you going?” I asked.
She startled, looked up at me, then frowned. “Do you always like to sneak up on people?”
“You’re on my land,” I reminded. “It’s dark. And you’re leaving.”
“That’s true,” she confirmed, her tone carrying a hint of sarcasm. Her answer landed wrong.
“At this hour?” I asked. “After everything we talked about?”
She leaned back in her seat, crossing her arms. “You don’t get to interrogate me every time I step off the property.”
“I do when you’re doing something stupid,” I countered.
Her blue eyes flashed. “You don’t even know what I’m doing.”
“Enlighten me.”
She hesitated, and that worried me more. I had a fight to prepare for. I needed to stay focused. I didn’t need to worry about her and her next move.
“I’m just going for a drive,” she said too lightly.
“Bullshit.”
She exhaled sharply and rolled her eyes. “Why do you care so much?”
Because you’re walking straight into something that doesn’t let people walk back out. I didn’t say that out loud.
Instead, I said, “Because people don’t leave Maple Valley at night unless they’re looking for trouble or trying to avoid it.”
Her fingers tightened on the steering wheel.
“Fine,” she said, full of irritation. “You want honesty?”
“Yes.” I wasn’t asking for a lot.
“I’m looking for someone,” she said evenly.
My stomach dropped. “Who?”
She looked past me, toward the trees. “Nico Mercier.”
The name hit like a punch to the ribs.
“You’re what?” I snapped.
“His name came up in some articles,” she said, too calm. “Local. Went to high school here. Ties to the Bellerose operation.”
“You don’t go looking for Nico Mercier,” I said flatly. “Not alone. Not ever.”
She met my gaze. “I’m not asking you to come with me.”
“That’s not reassuring,” I scoffed.
She opened the door and stepped out of her car, standing her ground like she’d done it a hundred times before. “Asher, I know how to take care of myself.”
I laughed once, sharp and humorless, then my gaze raked over her body. She was wearing a tight white tank top that showed off part of her stomach and a pair of baggy jeans. That hid her slender figure. She looked beautiful. I blinked. “You went asking about backroom poker your first night in town.”
“And I walked out just fine,” she shot back.
“That doesn’t mean—”
“I’ve been doing Krav Maga for years,” she explained. “This isn’t me wandering into danger blind.”
That stopped me cold.
“You what?”
“Krav Maga,” she repeated. “Self-defense. Situational awareness. I’m not helpless.”
I studied her then. Really looked. The way she stood. Weight balanced. Chin lifted. No nervous fidgeting.
Dammit.
“That doesn’t make you invincible,” I said.
“No,” she agreed. “But it makes me prepared.”
I dragged a hand through my hair, frustration knotting tight in my chest.
“You don’t understand who you’re dealing with,” I said. “Nico’s not someone you corner with questions.”
“And Sophie wasn’t just someone who disappeared,” she fired back. “So forgive me if I don’t sit quietly and wait for answers that never come.”
Silence stretched between us. The night pressed in. Crickets. Leaves shifting in the breeze.
“You’re not going,” I said finally.
Her chin lifted. “I am.”
“Then you tell me where,” I countered. “And when. And you don’t go alone.”
“I don’t need a handler,” she snapped.
“No,” I agreed. “You need someone who knows this town.”
She watched me for a long moment, searching for something. Control. Motive. Maybe weakness.
“Fine,” she said at last. “I’ll tell you where I’m going. But I don’t promise to stop.”
I exhaled slowly. I hated that answer. And I hated even more that I respected it.
“You’re a very frustrating woman, Claire,” I said, trying to keep my voice even.
“You aren’t the first person to say that to me. I’m just determined. I thought you of all people would understand,” she finally said.
Her words cut deep, and she read that on me. She deflated. “It seems that Val-Du-Lys has a history of missing people.”
“The cases aren’t connected,” I snapped.
At least I didn’t think they were. Rosalie Bellerose died because she was married to a crime lord.
Mom left because of Maggie’s death, which was deemed accidental.
And then there were a few other people like Sophie who disappeared because they used the help of the Belleroses to gain illegal access to the United States and never made it across the border safely.
Just last year, news broke of a family who had frozen to death along the way.
She went quiet, and that seemed to be rare.
“Asher, Nico was there the night I said goodbye to Sophie. He was at the meet up point. He may have seen something,” she went on.
“Or he may have killed her himself,” I shot back. I felt terrible when she winced.
“Sorry, Claire,” I let out a breath. “Nico isn’t a good guy. My brother Eric went to high school with him.”
She watched me carefully. “You could’ve told me Harmony Bellerose was your sister-in-law.”
“She’s Harmony Thorne now, and it doesn’t matter because Harmony was never part of that world.”
She kicked the dirt. “Look, Sophie’s mom was killed last year. It was her ex-husband. He abused her for years. That’s why Sophie wanted to leave Canada. She was seeking safety, and her mother couldn’t afford to get them both over the border.”
I sighed and ran my fingers through my hair, feeling her pain, my whole body deflated. “I’m sorry, that’s tough.”
“Yeah, it is. Do you understand why I need justice for Sophie now?” She watched me intently.
At this point, I couldn’t lie. “I get it.”
“Okay.” She turned and got back into her car before I had a chance to say anything else.
Then she hit the gas and took off. I just hoped that wherever she was going she’d stay safe.
In the meantime, I finished training since I had a fight coming up.
But I made a mental note to speak with Becket.
Maybe he had heard about Sophie’s case or maybe his female friend in Montreal could do some digging.
Marcel Bellerose may have been laying low, but he was still around still doing bad things under the radar.