Chapter 25
Jada
I walked into the Pawsitive Connections barn and breathed deeply. It smelled like hay and sun-warmed wood, and something a little sweeter—maybe the lavender Lark sprinkled in the nesting boxes. I didn’t mind the smell. It clung to my skin, my clothes, followed me home like a clumsy puppy, but it was comforting. Real.
I scratched behind Olive’s ears—she was one of the rescue goats, pushy and loud and completely charming. She pressed her head into my hip like we’d been best friends for years. I smiled and reached for the bucket of feed.
“Okay, okay,” I laughed. “You’re not starving. Drama queen.”
I walked over to the stalls and gave Marvin, a shaggy pony who liked to step on my toes when he got bored, a pat on the neck, then grabbed the curry comb and began brushing his coat, letting the rhythm of it settle me. There was a peacefulness to this kind of work. Physical. Predictable. No judgments, no questions. Just a pony who liked to fart when I hit the wrong spot on his belly.
The thought made me grin.
I hadn’t smiled this much in… Well, who knew? And yeah, maybe that should’ve felt weird, but it didn’t. It felt like possibility. Like maybe, if I had to start over, this wouldn’t be the worst place to do it. Lark had offered me the part-time job without asking any questions, paying me cash until we could get my IDs. Working here made me feel capable, and I knew Hunter approved.
Hunter.
I glanced toward the open barn doors, like I might see him standing there in that quiet way of his. Calm and still, like a soldier who knew how to breathe without taking up space. He’d be back tomorrow. Just thinking about it made my stomach flutter.
We needed to talk. About school, maybe. I wasn’t saying I was ready to jump into anything huge, but vet assisting didn’t sound like the worst idea. It’d be something. A direction. And for the first time, the future didn’t feel like a threat. It felt…open.
Which was a hundred percent because of him.
Even now, he was across state lines, chasing down the pieces I couldn’t. Doing the hard things I wasn’t ready for. I didn’t know what I’d done to deserve him. But I knew one thing—if I was building a life from scratch, I wanted him in it.
The sound of tires crunching on gravel pulled me out of my daydreams.
I glanced toward the gate, one hand still resting on Marvin’s neck. A sedan pulled up, looking out of place next to the aging feed truck and beat-up pickup. It wasn’t unusual for visitors to show up—families coming to meet therapy animals, volunteers, vets—but this wasn’t that.
I squinted, waiting for someone familiar to step out. Two men emerged, both in suits. Suits .
“Great,” I muttered under my breath. “That’s not ominous at all.”
Then I remembered—Lark had run into town for supplies. Left about thirty minutes ago. Crap. That meant I was the only one here.
I wiped my hands on the thighs of my jeans, glanced down at the smudge of hay and goat slobber on my shirt, and sighed. I may have worked PR for a hotel before, but I was not built for customer-facing anything yet.
But I couldn’t exactly hide in the barn. They’d already seen me.
So I squared my shoulders and stepped away from the fence line, giving a small wave. “Hey there,” I called out, keeping my tone easy. “You’ll need to come back tomorrow if you’re hoping to speak with Lark. She’s out for a while.”
I thought that should’ve been the end of it, but they didn’t turn around.
The taller of the two smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “We’re not here to see Lark.”
I stopped walking. My stomach tightened. “Okay…?”
“We’re here for you, Jada.”
The way he said my name—it landed like a stone in my gut.
I glanced between them, throat suddenly dry. “Sorry, do I know you?”
The shorter one stepped forward. “Not yet. But we’d like to talk. Won’t take long.”
Everything in me screamed to run. Get out of here. Call Hunter. But I couldn’t. Not without making it obvious that I was rattled. And maybe I was, but I didn’t want these guys to see that.
I forced a smile, though I could feel it twitch at the edges. “Right. Well, unless this is about the goats, you’ll need to come back later. I’m working.”
They exchanged a look I didn’t understand.
The taller one adjusted his sleeves and said, “We think you might want to hear what we have to say.”
I took a small step back, keeping my spine straight and my expression carefully blank. But inside, my stomach had curled into a tight, cold knot. There was something about the way they moved. Controlled. Like they were trained to notice things the rest of us missed. The way they didn’t scan the animals or the barn like most visitors did, but instead kept their eyes locked on me.
And then it clicked. Of course. They were cops. I felt it in my chest before they even opened their mouths.
The taller one reached into his jacket, slow and deliberate, and held up a badge. “I’m Detective Johnson. This is Detective Kelly.”
No sirens, no handcuffs. Just quiet pressure and two sets of watchful eyes.
I swallowed hard. “Okay.”
My legs screamed at me to bolt. But where would I go? There wasn’t a single place on this property I could get to that they couldn’t follow. And running would make me look guilty.
Besides, there wasn’t supposed to be a warrant out. We’d checked.
Still, my voice was hoarse when I said, “What’s this about?”
The one called Kelly ignored the question. “You are Jada Banks, correct?”
I nodded.
“We’d like to ask you a few questions,” Johnson said.
I tried to think—what would Hunter do? He’d stall. Get more info before giving any. Keep calm, keep his face blank, keep them on their heels.
I pulled in a breath through my nose and shook my head lightly. “Now’s not really a good time. I’m at work. My boss’ll be back soon, and I’ve got a lot to finish.”
Kelly’s gaze flicked around the property. “Is anyone else here?”
That question should feel normal from a police officer. A safety thing, where they didn’t want to be blindsided. But every hair on the back of my neck stood up. I was suddenly too aware of how alone I was.
I forced a smile I didn’t feel and ignored the question. “You should come back tomorrow. I need to get back to work.”
And without waiting for a response, I turned and walked straight into the barn, shutting the door behind me with a quiet, deliberate click, wishing there were a lock. I held my breath, straining to hear the sound of tires on gravel, the growl of an engine pulling away.
But there was nothing. No doors slamming. No retreating footsteps. Instead, I heard the barn door creak open behind me.
They’d followed me.
My spine went rigid as I turned, trying to look composed even though my heart was trying to climb up into my throat. I didn’t know what my rights were. I just tried to think of what Hunter would say: don’t volunteer anything, don’t lie if you don’t have to, don’t panic.
I was already failing the last one.
The cheap phone Hunter had given me was in my backpack, which I’d left back in our cabin. Not that it would help. I only had two numbers saved—Hunter’s, and the one for Pawsitive Connections.
Johnson stayed near the entrance, his hands in his coat pockets, relaxed like we were just chatting about the weather. Kelly wandered farther in, eyes sweeping the interior of the barn. Toward the back door. Which meant I couldn’t keep them both in my line of sight.
I hated that.
“We just have a few questions,” Johnson said, voice calm, almost friendly.
I stepped to the side by the feeding bins to keep both men in sight and leaned up against the hard wood for support. “About what?”
His gaze flicked to Kelly, like they were debating how much to say. Then he looked back at me. “It’d be better if we could talk officially. If you wouldn’t mind coming with us.”
Reaching to pick up the feed scoop, I froze, darting my gaze between the two men. “Come with you where?”
My legs went weak just hearing the words. Visions of handcuffs and holding cells and sterile gray walls rushed in before I could stop them.
“I can’t,” I said, too quickly. “I’m responsible for the animals while my boss is gone. I can’t leave them alone.”
Johnson nodded slowly, like he’d expected that. “Of course. That’s admirable.”
Meanwhile, Kelly kept moving, fingers brushing the edge of a horse stall, gaze now fixed on the back exit. Blocking it.
My skin crawled.
“They look fine to me,” Johnson said, nodding toward the stalls like he had any idea what a healthy goat looked like. “You said your boss won’t be back for a while. We’ll be out of your hair in under an hour.”
“Hour’s a long time,” I muttered, barely covering the tremor in my voice.
Kelly stepped in closer, his voice smoother now, almost persuasive. “We really need to do this today, Ms. Banks. We came a long way.”
I tightened my grip on the feed scoop. “And you still haven’t said what ‘this’ is.”
There was a pause. Not long, but long enough for my stomach to flip.
“Official police business,” Johnson said, and it might’ve been the vaguest answer I’d ever heard.
I glanced between the two men again, the exits, then back to the animals, eyes focused on Olive like her twitching ears might offer some kind of solution. “If this is about Kenzie Hurst?—”
“We’re not here to talk about her.” Kelly cut me off, fast. That still didn’t mean they weren’t about to take me to jail.
Kenzie could’ve changed her mind. Maybe she’d told the police everything. Maybe they’d finally decided I didn’t deserve a second chance.
Johnson shifted closer, almost within reach. “We’re trying to give you the courtesy of answering questions voluntarily. We don’t want to arrest you.”
My breath hitched. I glanced again at Kelly, just in time to see him slip something from his coat.
Handcuffs.
Panic clawed up my throat.
“I didn’t—” I started, but my voice cracked and broke apart.
And then—the sound of a car engine. Close, tires on gravel. I didn’t know who it was, but I nearly sagged in relief. All three of us froze. Kelly’s eyes flicked to the barn doors, and without a word, he tucked the cuffs away like they hadn’t been dangling there seconds ago.
I dropped the scoop and rushed around Johnson toward the door, pushing it open so hard it banged against the frame.
Please let it be Lark. Or one of the wives from the ranch. Or one of the guys. Hell, I’d even take baby Tyson having learned how to drive.
But it wasn’t any of those people. It was a Garnet Bend sheriff’s department vehicle. Another cop.
So much for being saved.
But then I saw who stepped out—tall, sandy-haired, Garnet Bend’s own Deputy Lachlan Callaway—and some of the tightness in my chest eased. Not gone. But enough.
Lachlan wasn’t just some random badge. He was local. Hunter had talked to him more than once since we’d come to town, said he was decent. Smart. Observant. And most importantly—he knew I had no memory of who I used to be.
Still, that didn’t mean he was here to help me. But I clung to the tiny kernel of hope anyway.
Lachlan shut his door slowly, like he wasn’t in a hurry. His gaze swept from me to the two detectives standing in the barn doorway behind me. His expression didn’t change, but I saw it—the subtle flicker of something… tight in his jaw. His eyes.
Johnson and Kelly didn’t look thrilled to see him either.
“Afternoon,” Lachlan said, his voice light but not warm. “Didn’t expect to find company out here.”
Johnson stepped forward, holding up his badge again like it was a magic key. “Detectives Johnson and Kelly. We’re just here to ask Ms. Banks a few questions. Nothing formal.”
Lachlan’s eyebrows lifted. “Right. I heard you were asking around in town. Trying to find info about Jada.”
A beat passed. Long enough to make me sweat. Neither Johnson nor Kelly responded.
“Shame you didn’t swing by the sheriff’s office,” Lachlan added, still friendly. “We’d’ve been happy to help. Might’ve even saved you a trip.”
Kelly’s smile was all teeth. “Didn’t mean to step on toes. Just didn’t want to bother anyone with something so minor. We weren’t trying to be disrespectful.”
“Of course not,” Lachlan said, smile tight and too polished. “Appreciate that.”
The tension in the air was sharp now—bright and electric, like a summer storm about to crack. But none of it was aimed at me, and I was grateful for that small miracle.
If the three of them wanted to play power games, they could knock themselves out.
“Unfortunately, Ms. Banks isn’t cooperating,” Johnson said, with a dramatic sigh like I was some rebellious teenager refusing to hand over my phone.
I stiffened, unsure if I should jump in to defend myself or keep my mouth shut. I didn’t trust my voice right now. Or my brain. Or anything, really.
Lachlan stepped forward, just a little, hands resting easy on his duty belt. “She doesn’t have to cooperate,” he said casually. “Last I checked, there’s no warrant with her name on it.”
God bless him.
Kelly gave a short laugh, like they were all just old friends having a casual debate. “No, no, of course not. We’re just hoping to get a few things cleared up. Paperwork stuff. A few loose ends about Alan Ard.”
Alan. Not Kenzie. So maybe this wasn’t about the kidnapping. Not directly anyway. Maybe this was to see if I knew anything about how he died. I exhaled slowly, trying not to let it show.
Lachlan turned to me, his voice quieter. “Jada? You want to talk to them?”
I didn’t want to. Every instinct I had screamed no. But I also didn’t want to give them a reason to show up again tomorrow. Or the day after. Or worse—catch me alone again.
I swallowed hard. “I guess.”
“All right,” Lachlan nodded. “Why don’t we do this somewhere more comfortable? We’ve got an interview room at the station. Neutral ground. That sound okay?”
Neither of the detectives looked thrilled about it, but they didn’t argue either.
Kelly turned to Johnson. “Fine by me.”
I looked over at Lachlan. “I don’t have Hunter’s truck. I walked here from the cabin.” I prayed he wasn’t going to make me ride with the two detectives.
“You can ride with me,” he responded, walking over and opening the passenger side door. “I’ll drop you off at home after.”
“Of course,” Kelly said, a little too quickly. “We’ll follow behind.”
I got into the SUV, not sure what I should say or do. It was quiet, too quiet, except for the hum of the engine and the occasional crackle of gravel under the tires. My hands were folded tightly in my lap, fingers clenched so hard my knuckles ached.
Lachlan drove like it was any normal Tuesday. Not like I might be heading into something I couldn’t walk back from.
I shifted in my seat, glanced over. “Should I be worried?”
He didn’t answer right away. Which didn’t help.
Finally, he said, “There’s still no warrant out for you, Jada. I checked again before I pulled in at Pawsitive. If there were, you’d be in the back of this car, not the front.”
That was…something.
“And you really think this is just about Alan Ard?”
“I think it’s likely,” he said, flicking on the turn signal. “You were involved with him, and now he’s dead. It’s not surprising someone’s still trying to dot their I’s and cross their T’s on the case.”
I nodded, but my stomach was still a twisted mess of nerves. “You don’t like them,” I said quietly.
“No,” Lachlan said, without hesitation. “I don’t. They didn’t check in with the sheriff’s department when they got here, and that rubs me wrong. Not the polite way to go. They’ve been in town long enough to find your location. But I wanted to bring you to the station so I could keep an eye on things. That’s what Hunter would want.”
That made my throat tighten. Hunter. God, I wished he were here.
I stared at the dash for a second, then asked, “Should I tell them I don’t have my memory?”
“That’s up to you.” His voice stayed calm. Steady. “My advice? Answer as truthfully as you can. Don’t volunteer the information, but let them know you’ve had trauma that’s impacted your memory if you have to. I can confirm that if it comes up. You’re allowed to have a lawyer present. You’re allowed to stop the conversation at any time. Just remember—you’re not powerless in there.”
I nodded, though my heart was pounding like I was about to jump off a cliff. “Okay. They just make me uneasy.”
“If they get the info they need,” he added, “maybe this’ll help close things up. That’d be good for you. Good for Hunter too.”
That reminded me. “I left my phone. My bag’s still at the cabin.”
“I’ll send someone to grab it if you’re here long,” he said, easing the car into the parking lot of the sheriff’s department. “You focus on doing the best you can.”
I stared at the building as we pulled in. The brick looked harmless enough. But I was still scared.
Really scared.
And I didn’t know how this was going to end.