Chapter 41
She knew something had changed the moment Roy came in.
He wasn’t angry or loud. Just tight, like he was holding on to news he hadn’t figured out how to say yet.
“They put cameras up,” he said, dropping his keys on the counter. “Everywhere.”
She kept her expression neutral. “Cameras?”
“Yup. At the farm, both barns, the house and the driveway.” He shook his head. “Caleb had his guys do it.”
His guys.
She filed that away.
“How many?” she asked.
Roy shrugged. “Enough. He’s got access. Mia, too.”
That was all she needed to hear. The fire hadn’t scared Mia. It’d brought backup.
She nodded slowly. “I guess that makes sense.”
Roy exhaled. “She didn’t even mention it to me.”
There it was.
She tilted her head slightly. “The cameras?”
“Any of it,” he said. “I heard about it after the decision was made.”
His mouth tightened, just a fraction. Not angry. Hurt.
“The fire?” she asked.
“Yeah,” he said after a beat. “Someone crossed the line.”
Roy didn’t know—and she wasn’t telling—that other pieces were already in place. The rumors. The cancellations. The small sabotages that never looked connected on their own.
“That kind of thing rattles people,” she said lightly, smoothing her thumb along the edge of her phone. “Makes them overreact.”
“Or lock things down,” Roy replied.
“Exactly.”
Cameras meant the property was closed to her now. No room for mistakes or improvisation.
She picked up her phone, glanced at the screen, then set it back down.
“I just hope this settles things,” she said, her voice mild, eyes watchful. “Mia’s been through enough.”
Roy nodded, but his gaze drifted past her, unfocused.
“Yeah,” he said quietly. “She has.”
She didn’t miss what he didn’t say.
Mia hadn’t called him. Or asked for his opinion. And someone else was handling the important things now.
And Roy knew it.
Cameras meant that the farm was no longer an option. That didn’t end anything. It just redirected it.
Her phone buzzed.
She glanced down without thinking.
Ridgeway Foundation Fundraiser
Catering by Plated Perfection
Hosted at the Event Barn at Whitmore Farm
She stared at it, her pulse ticking louder in her ears.
That wasn’t right.
She opened it. Read it again. And again.
Roy noticed. “What’s wrong?”
“Ridgeway switched caterers,” she said, keeping her voice steady.
He frowned. “I thought that one was yours.”
“So did I.”
The room suddenly felt smaller, the air pressing in. She couldn’t catch her breath.
The fire hadn’t stopped Mia, and now, the cameras protected her.
But this—this was public humiliation.
She’d told everyone that Ridgeway was hers. Now, people would talk. Probably already were and most likely laughing at her.
Roy exhaled. “That’s rough.”
She forced a smile. “It happens.”
This wasn’t about losing a job. It was about being erased. She stayed. Built her business. Her father donated to Ridgeway. And Mia came back and took what should’ve been hers.
She scrolled again, catching a comment about logistics and off-site storage for rentals.
She looked up casually. “Mia keeps a lot of her stuff off-site, right? Tables, linens, plates, silverware, that kind of thing.”
Roy nodded. “Some of it. Easier than hauling it back and forth and storing it at the barn.”
“What if that’s what the fire was all about? People poking around,” she said lightly.
Roy frowned. “You think someone was snooping around and set it by accident?”
“Or on purpose,” she said. “Fires don’t always start because someone means to burn the place down.”
The woman shrugged. “When a site isn’t being watched, people notice.”
That was the hook. Not an accusation, just concern.
“If it seems like anyone can come and go without her knowing,” she added quietly, “people draw their own conclusions.”
Roy’s jaw tightened. “That wouldn’t be fair.”
“No,” she agreed. “But fair doesn’t seem to matter much lately.”
She didn’t push. She didn’t have to.
Roy stared at the floor, jaw tight, already turning the problem over in his head. How could he fix it? How could he be the hero?
She stayed silent and let the moment stretch. Roy always needed to fix something. A way to prove he was capable. Someone to protect.
The farm might be protected now, but that didn’t mean Mia was.
She leaned back slightly, letting the idea take root. Some ideas only needed a nudge.
He’d get there on his own. He always did.