Chapter 9
Brayden had received text updates from Trent confirming there hadn’t been any issues while they’d been gone.
Still, when they arrived, he checked the Hideaway security system through his cell phone app before he let Roni out of the truck.
She’d been silent for the entire drive. The only exception was when he’d suggested she invite her sisters over to talk. That had been met with a resounding no.
One word as a response wasn’t the norm for her. One word over the course of fifteen minutes had him worried.
Now, the quiet construction site wasn’t nearly as much of a relief as it had been hours ago.
Their plans for an easy and fun afternoon, summarily revoked.
Despite the fresh air gusting periodically, he felt uptight and uneasy.
And a little too helpless. It was as if Roni was simply waiting for the sword to fall, severing this dream and her ties to the home she loved.
He’d expected her to grill him about changing out the planted ECMs for materials that Natalie might use.
Now that he’d pulled it off—with support from the Guardian Agency—and he could talk about it, he wanted to tell her everything.
If only so she could laugh over the whole story with him.
It hadn’t been the easiest thing to make the swap, but it would go down as one of the more entertaining days of his career.
Another big wind gust carrying the scent of rain shoved at him as he paced the deck.
He heard voices too. Someone was at the construction site, probably replacing the original ECM’s they’d pulled.
He wouldn’t be surprised if they claimed some overnight shipping miracle and started up first thing tomorrow.
He cringed, anticipating Roni’s reaction. There had to be a way to help her. She was retreating. Gathering her defenses. And he suspected she was preparing to reach out to her dad—going hard against her sisters’ wishes.
He couldn’t blame her, but neither would he sit back while she stressed out. He called Connor, hoping for some news. “You get anything?” he asked as soon as he heard the click of the research assistant picking up.
“I’m looking at the photo of the plat map you just sent over,” Connor replied. He sounded wired and completely dialed in, based on the rapid-fire tapping of a keyboard clicking in the background.
“You’re not mainlining caffeine, are you?”
“Not today.” Connor’s bark of laughter came and went in a blink.
“This slick stunt is impressive. Would be taken at face value, I’m sure,” he said.
“And it’s a dirty piece of work. According to the country records system, the digital metadata shows the file was uploaded to the county database from a remote terminal outside the municipal building at two in the morning three weeks ago. ”
“What about the assistant registrar who signed off on it?” Brayden asked, keeping his voice low. He continued to scan the tree line of the maritime forest, making sure it was only the wind causing the shadows and movement. “The one Holly said moved away?”
“Lyle Gleason,” Connor grumbled. “Sonya ran his financials for me.”
It took a beat for Brayden to remember Sonya was Connor’s wife and specialized in forensic accounting for the agency.
“Gleason resigned his county post and packed up his house,” Connor was saying.
“He bought a fifty-thousand-dollar center-console sportsman boat three days later. Paid with a personal check. His account was a fraction of that on his last day of work. The boat is currently registered at a slip in Key Largo. Following the prior ownership on the boat is a tangled web of shell corporations, but the head of the snake is Deepsouth Excavation.”
Again, with the bogus company. “Which means Indigo Reef bought themselves a county registrar to attempt to annex thirty feet of Hargrave land,” Brayden rumbled, his jaw clenching. “This is criminal, right? Bribery, land fraud, and whatever else goes with falsifying the plat map.”
“You’re exactly right. Gamble is working on the best legal strategy.
” Connor sighed. “Proving any of this will take serious time. Weeks, maybe months. If Indigo Reef requests a town council meeting to get approval for the easement, Vanbeck’s legal team will walk in there with their certified document.
Under local municipal codes, without a conflicting, legally binding historical survey to challenge it on the spot, the council is obligated to recognize the active record. They’ll have to grant the easement.”
“Even through the protected forest?”
“Odds are good, they’ll ask for access from the Hargrave side, making it look like they care about the environment,” Connor said.
Brayden had never been happier that Roni wasn’t close by. If she heard this conversation, she’d be fuming and stressing out even more.
The line clicked, and a second voice joined the call.
“Hello,” Patrick Gamble said. “I wanted to jump in here and give you an idea of what we’re thinking.
Officially, Gamble and Swann now represent the Hargraves.
Celeste’s signature is on file. Based on the false witness that triggered the warrant and what we know of the wayward ECMs you found, we can file a civil suit for fraud tomorrow morning, but it won’t trigger an automatic stay on the easement if Indigo Reef chooses to push. ”
Brayden swore under his breath. “If the council grants that easement, the developers will have trucks rolling before the meeting adjourns.”
“You’re probably right,” Gamble allowed. “The best defense is the original plat map.”
“The Hargraves are looking,” Brayden said, his chest tight.
“But they don’t have it. Celeste says the plat map in the safe deposit box only holds the nineties deed description, which lacks the original easement language.
The best source is David Hargrave, but he’s notoriously poor about communicating.
Maybe you could use your legal influence to encourage a swift reply?
I can have Veronica send you his contact information. ”
“I’ll do my best,” Gamble promised. “Right now, that piece of history is the best shield the Hargrave sisters have. Keep your eyes open, Leggett.”
“Will do,” Brayden said, swiping the screen to end the call.
He slipped the phone into his back pocket, leaning his broad forearms against the deck railing as he stared out toward the ocean.
The normal waves were higher, the whitecaps plentiful as they charged the shore.
The wind shifted again, sending a limb rattling blast through the live oaks.
Tattered streamers of Spanish moss whipped across the yard with dried leaves and palm fronds.
Over the ocean, the horizon was heavy with storm clouds gathering, tumbling layers of gray.
That sky was promising a challenging night ahead.
Which would prove worse, the storm rolling in or the reaction from her sisters if Roni succeeded in contacting their father?
Maybe when it was over, she’d be able to use Gamble’s contact as an excuse they might accept more easily.
All three of the sisters struggled with their father’s abandonment. The man’s occasional interactions with Roni didn’t magically cure everything that was wrong with the relationship.
Brayden scrubbed at his jaw, wishing he could fix it all with a hug and some reassuring words. Given the chance, he’d shelter her from every struggle. He’d carry the whole damn world on his shoulders just to ease her way.
She deserved that. And so much more.
As the first fat drop of rain splattered against the hot wood of the deck, Brayden knew that some battles could only be fought from the inside out. All he could do was stand watch, keep the developers at bay, and be ready to catch her when the real storms in her life finally broke.