Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
NATALIE
"This can't be right," I muttered, staring at the spreadsheet on my laptop. It was Friday morning. I had been in Sable Point for two weeks, and my brain was fried.
The numbers didn't add up. There was a discrepancy in the books—a sizable gap between the expected revenue from Ever Eden Orchard's sales and the actual amount hitting their accounts.
A knot formed in the pit of my stomach as I cross-referenced the figures against my dad's meticulous records. He had always been so careful when it came to his clients' finances. This kind of glaring error was completely unlike him.
Unless it wasn't an error at all.
My pulse quickened as an unsettling thought took root. What if the orchard's books didn't match Dad's files because someone was deliberately cooking the numbers? Skimming profits, hiding losses, fudging the data to cover their tracks .
I swallowed, my mouth bone dry. No, that couldn't be it. The Evertons were our family's oldest friends, pillars of this community. They'd never do anything so underhanded.
Would they?
A memory from Dad's wake surfaced.
You did what you had to do.
That's what Jasper had said to Elliot. Was this what he meant?
The thought was almost too disturbing to entertain. But the evidence was staring me in the face. Something wasn't adding up with their accounts, and the only logical explanation was fraud.
"Natalie? You okay, honey?"
I jumped at the sound of Jeanette's voice, slamming the laptop shut with more force than intended. She eyed me with concern as I scrambled to compose myself.
"I'm fine," I lied, offering her a tight smile. "Just going over some numbers."
Jeanette nodded, seemingly satisfied. She busied herself with the copy machine, humming softly under her breath.
I screwed up my courage and opened the laptop again. The more I studied the figures, the more glaring the discrepancies became. Tens of thousands of dollars were vanishing into thin air between the orchard's reported sales and the deposits hitting their accounts.
"Jeanette," I began, trying to keep my tone casual, "were you aware of any issues with the Ever Eden account?"
Her brow furrowed. "No, not that I recall. Your father always spoke highly of their operation. Said they ran a tight ship over there."
I nodded absently, chewing my bottom lip. That only deepened the mystery—not to mention my growing unease. Dad trusted the Evertons implicitly, both as clients and as friends. He would never have turned a blind eye to any financial improprieties on their part.
Which meant one of two things was happening: either the Evertons were deliberately defrauding their accountant, a prospect that seemed too outlandish to even consider. Or someone else was manipulating their books behind the scenes.
My mind whirled with unsettling possibilities. Embezzlement, money laundering, ties to organized crime. All the seedy facets of financial malfeasance that I had expected from the cutthroat world of corporate accounting, but not here . Not in Sable Point.
I screwed my eyes shut, pinching the bridge of my nose as a dull ache blossomed behind my eyes. Get a grip, Natalie. You're spiraling down a rabbit hole of wild speculation.
My mind flitted to Jasper, to the quiet intensity simmering behind those warm brown eyes. Did he know about this? Was he somehow involved?
The thought of him being mixed up in anything illicit made my stomach churn. Then again, I hadn't really known him for years. Maybe he wasn't who I thought he was.
I was preparing to question Jeanette further, but the ring of the office phone cut me off. She shot me an apologetic glance before hurrying back out to the front desk to answer it.
Left alone with my racing thoughts, I revisited the damning numbers. I toggled between spreadsheets, scanning rows of data until the figures started to blur together.
It was all there in black and white. Somehow, someway, the orchard was hemorrhaging money at an alarming rate. And based on the timeline, it had been going on for months, draining their coffers like a tiny leak that had finally cracked the dam.
A panicked chill crept over me as the full implications started to sink in. If the Everton's orchard was on the brink of collapse, it could devastate this entire town. Ever Eden was one of the economic pillars of Sable Point, a beloved institution that had been there for generations.
Not to mention the personal toll it would take on the family. They were decent, hard-working people who had poured their blood, sweat, and tears into that land. To see it all crumble around them, to lose their legacy and life's work...
A fresh wave of grief overwhelmed me, quickly followed by a surge of protective instinct. I might have been gone for years, but the Evertons were as much my family as my own flesh and blood. We'd been through too much together for me to turn a blind eye now.
There was no way I could just hand this over to some buyer who wouldn't give two shits about this family. No matter what truth was lurking beneath the surface, I had to get to the bottom of it. Had to find a way to help them, to save Ever Eden.
I opened a fresh document to start compiling my findings. I'd need concrete evidence, an ironclad case to present if—when—I confronted the Evertons about this mess. I might have been a "big-city hotshot" for a while, but this was personal. Which meant I couldn't afford to make even the slightest miscalculation.
I was so engrossed in my work that I didn't hear the office door open until a familiar voice broke the stillness.
"Natty Light!"
My startled heart pounded as Chase bounced into the office.
"Hey, Chaser." I tried for a casual tone, but it came out strained. "What're you doing here?"
He shrugged, all nonchalance as he leaned against the doorframe. "Just thought I'd pop in and see my favorite girl. It's been too long."
"I saw you a few days ago, dork. But your timing is impeccable as always." I gestured to the stacks of files covering every available surface. "I'm drowning in paperwork over here."
His eyes widened in horror. "Sweet Jesus, Nat, what have you gotten yourself into?"
"Oh, you know. Just trying to single-handedly rifle through thirty years of work to make it somewhat presentable to a potential buyer."
Chase's expression sobered as he crossed the room to perch on the edge of my desk. "That bad, huh?"
I sighed, pushing a hand through my hair. "Honestly? I have no idea. The books are a mess, the accounts are all over the place. I'm starting to think..."
I trailed off. I couldn't bear to voice my suspicions, not out loud. And especially not to Chase. He might have been the black sheep of the Everton clan, but he loved his family. I didn't want to worry him until I had to.
He frowned, studying me intently. "What? You're starting to think what, Nat?"
I waved a dismissive hand. "It's nothing. Just a lot to process. I'm sure it'll all make sense once I get a handle on things."
"Well, you know what they say—all work and no play makes Natty Light a very dull girl." He slid off the desk with a wink. "C'mon, let's get out of this depressing office for a bit. You need a break."
"Chase, I couldn't just?—"
"Yes, you could. In fact, you're going to. Doctor's orders."
"You're not a doctor."
"Semantics."
I opened my mouth to protest further, but he cut me off with a look.
"Don't make me call in reinforcements. You know I'll do it."
My mouth twitched into a reluctant smile as I pictured him dragging Jasper in here to gang up on me. As overbearing as Chase could be, he had a point. I could use a reprieve from these maddening numbers and the sinking pit of dread they were inspiring .
"Fine," I conceded, snapping my laptop closed. "You win. But just for an hour or two, okay? I can't stay out too late."
Chase's answering grin was pure trouble, and he held up two fingers. "Scout's honor, Nat. Now grab your shit and let's blow this popsicle stand."
I obediently gathered my things, an odd sense of excitement thrumming beneath my skin. It had been too long since I'd let loose, allowed myself to be reckless and irresponsible even for a night. Two shots at Andy's birthday hadn't done the trick. Sammy's sour attitude and Chase's alarming behavior had been much too effective at sobering me up.
Maybe it would do me good to embrace the chaos for once. To let go of the burdens weighing me down and just... breathe.
"So where are we going, oh wise and benevolent friend of mine?" I asked as we stepped out onto the sidewalk.
The weather in northern Michigan was beautiful this time of year. I was busy closing my eyes and tilting my head back, feeling the sun warm my face when Chase slung his arm around my shoulders, steering us down the block.
"Where else? Callaghan's is calling our names."
Callaghan's Bar, with its neon beer signs and perpetual haze of stale cigarette smoke, was not the kind of establishment I frequented these days. But then that was sort of the point, wasn't it? To step outside my comfort zone, to embrace wildness and unpredictability.
"You're a bad influence," I said, bumping his hip with mine. "But fine, lead the way to the den of iniquity."
His loud, unrestrained laughter drew curious glances from passersby. I couldn't find it in myself to care. I already felt lighter, freer, than I had in ages.
The smell of stale beer hit me as we pushed through the battered door of the bar. A comforting wave of nostalgia washed over me. This place hadn't changed a bit since our high school days.
Of course, back then, it was about the thrill of doing something we weren't supposed to. Now, as I slid onto a cracked vinyl barstool beside Chase, it was more about seeking refuge. A temporary escape from the responsibilities and expectations that had been pressing down on me since the moment I crossed the town line into Sable Point.
"What'll it be, Choi?" Chase asked, shooting me his signature lopsided grin. "I'm buying, so go crazy."
I glanced at the chalkboard listing out the daily specials, mostly local craft beers and cheap domestics. I contemplated something fruity and sweet, a treat to sip and savor.
But deep down I craved something stronger. Something to numb the gnawing sense of dread that had been growing steadily for the past few days. The more time I spent working in my father's office, the less comfortable I felt.
"Whiskey," I said decisively, the word feeling deliciously illicit on my tongue. "Double, neat."
Chase's eyebrows shot up, but he didn't question it. He just flagged down the bartender—a hulking, bearded behemoth I didn't recognize—and placed our order.
"Damn, Nat," he murmured as the guy turned to grab our drinks. "I didn't realize you were such a badass these days."
I shrugged. "What can I say? The big city toughened me up."
He chuckled, and I relaxed a bit more. God, I'd missed this—the sense of being known and accepted without question or judgment. Not having to put on a show or be constantly on like I had to with Liam or my friends and coworkers in the city.
The bartender set our drinks down with a thunk, fixing me with an appraising look. I met his gaze steadily. "Thank you," I said, bringing the glass to my lips.
"I don't know you," the bartender said.
"What I think you meant to say was, 'you're welcome.'"
The whiskey set my throat ablaze in the most delicious way. I closed my eyes, savoring the slow bloom of heat.
When I opened them again, he was still staring. I stared back. This guy looked like he'd just walked off the set of Sons of Anarchy. Not sure what his beef was, but I didn't budge.
"Alright, Kai," Chase cut in. "Relax. This is Natalie. Just got back in town, but she's a native. Lived in Sable Point longer than you have."
"Yeah, Kai . I'm a native. Who are you?" Two more seconds of eye contact, then he turned on his heel and went about his duties without another word.
When my standoff with the biker bartender ended, Chase was watching me with a curious expression, like he was seeing me for the first time. I offered him a sly smile, feeling reckless and invincible. "What?" I took another slow sip from my tumbler. "You act like you've never seen a girl drink whiskey before."
He blinked then grinned, tipping his bottle of beer toward me. "You're full of surprises these days, Nat. I like it."
We clinked drinks. Then Chase launched into a story about some misadventure from his latest stint working on a commercial fishing boat. It was easy, hanging with him like this. Easy to let the worries and responsibilities fade into the background noise of a small-town dive. Easy to be this version of myself again, a little wild and completely carefree.
We drank and swapped stories, the whiskey loosening my tongue until I was laughing more freely than I had in years. At some point, Chase slid closer on the battered barstool and casually draped his arm over the back of my seat.
Alarm bells rang, but not fast or loud enough because the next thing I knew, Chase was kissing me. I froze, staring wide-eyed as the door of Callaghan's swung open and Jasper walked in.