Chapter 10
CHAPTER TEN
LETTY
The safe house seemed smaller in daylight, like the walls had crept closer during the night.
Letty had taken over the dining table again.
Her laptop lay open next to her notebook, spread wide, with a highlighter tucked behind her ear.
Outside, the marsh looked deceptively peaceful.
Egrets moved through shallow water. The world did not look like it had burned three nights ago.
She took a cleansing breath. Disasters always look calm before and after.
It is the middle that wrecks you. She zoomed in on the Tidehaven marina development map, cross-referencing dock permits from the last eighteen months.
The council website wasn’t user-friendly, but she’d learned how to read chaos.
Patterns emerged when you looked long enough, even inside the bureaucratic chaos of council permits and temporary approvals.
Letty studied the permit revisions and the dock expansions, but it was the temporary service approvals and event access documents that caught her attention.
Her pulse picked up. The Palmetto Royale had received a temporary service dock exemption two days before the gala. She frowned. That dock section wasn’t normally accessible to outside vessels without clearance.
She opened a window on her laptop to cross-check the authorization signatory.
Well, shit, Assistant Harbor Master Jared Pike signed it digitally.
She clicked deeper and opened another file.
Vendor access logs with a temporary fuel transport permit issued.
She stared. The approval time frame coincided exactly with…
Her fingers froze on the keyboard. All this happened the morning of Salt & Steel’s training drill.
She pulled up her photo timestamps: 9:17 a.m., 9:26 a.m., 9:31 a.m. She studied the pictures. The small boat had appeared at 9:22, and the temporary dock permit window had opened at 9:15.
That wasn’t a coincidence. Her pulse quickened as the timeline started to align in ways that no longer seemed accidental.
She pulled up Will’s travel records from Rhea. She had scraped conference attendance metadata earlier.
His Charleston conference check-in badge had been scanned at 8:02 a.m. Her forehead crinkled as she gritted her teeth.
Charleston is two hours away. Even if he’d left immediately…
He couldn’t have been in both places. She stopped to ponder options.
Unless he hadn’t checked in personally. Unless someone else had.
Her stomach dropped as she moved to financial records.
The consulting firm she’d flagged earlier, Bayfront Risk Advisory, linked indirectly to Hargrove’s coastal acquisitions.
Letty dug further. First, she examined corporate filings, then individual board members and subcontractors. She shook her head when she saw a name that appeared in smaller text: Independent Fire Risk Consultant, William Thomas.
Her breath puffed out. That’s not proof, exactly, but it is proximity.
Wyatt’s voice came from behind her. “You’re pushing.”
She didn’t jump. She knew he had entered the room. “I’m working,” she replied.
Wyatt stepped into view, coffee mug in hand, expression unreadable. “You didn’t tell me you were digging into financials.”
“You were in the shower.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
She turned her chair to face him. “I don’t need supervision.”
His jaw ticked. “I’m not supervising.”
“It feels like it.”
He stepped closer, setting the mug on the table. “What did you find?”
She hesitated before she turned the screen toward him. “Temporary dock permit issued the morning of our training by Jared Pike,” she said. “Fuel access window opened fifteen minutes before the small boat appeared.”
His eyes scanned quickly. “And?”
“Will is listed as an independent fire risk consultant with Bayfront Risk Advisory.”
Silence. He leaned in closer to the screen. “That’s tied to Hargrove.”
“Yes.”
His jaw hardened. “Is it official?”
“Technically? Advisory capacity.”
“Which means deniable.”
“Yes.” She observed carefully. “I don’t know if he set the fire,” she hissed. “But he had access.”
“And knowledge,” Wyatt added.
“And motive.”
He straightened his posture. “You should’ve told me before digging this deep.”
Her spine stiffened. “I won’t allow you to protect me from my own work.”
His eyes flashed. “You don’t get to pretend you’re not in danger.”
Silence fell heavy between them, a sharp contrast to the peaceful marsh outside. She blew out another breath. “I am not pretending,” she replied. “I’m preparing.”
“You’re escalating.”
“So is he.”
He took another step closer. “You’re not bulletproof.”
“I never claimed to be.”
“Then act like it.” Her temper flared.
“I refuse to sit here while someone manipulates the narrative. That’s exactly what he’s counting on.”
His voice dropped. “And I refuse to watch you walk into something without backup.”
She crossed her arms. “Come on.” She smiled. “You’re my backup. We both know it.”
Her words made him go very still. “That’s not fair.”
“I know,” she said without backing down. “But you can’t wrap me in caution tape every time I get close to something.”
He ran a hand through his hair. “You think this is about ego?”
“No.”
“Then what is it?”
Her face softened. “It’s about fear.”
His gaze snapped back to hers.
“You’re afraid I’ll get hurt.”
“Yes.”
The admission disarmed her. “And I’m afraid if I stop digging, he wins.”
He paused as he looked at the screen again. “You think he staged it.”
“I think he coordinated it.”
He considered. “He wouldn’t light the match himself.”
“No, he’d hire someone who would.”
“Driscoll.”
“Yes.”
Wyatt exhaled slowly. “If he’s smart, he’ll assume you’re connecting this.”
“I am.”
“And that makes you a problem.”
“I already am.”
He stared at her before stepping closer again as he extended his hand to touch her arm. “You don’t move alone.” He held her gaze until she agreed.
“I wasn’t planning to.”
“You didn’t tell me.”
“I was about to.”
His brow lifted. “Before or after you decided to confront him?”
She didn’t answer.
“Letty,” Wyatt sighed. “That’s not happening.”
“I know, we don’t have enough yet.”
“You think he’ll just sit and wait for you to gather more?”
She held his gaze. “No.”
Wyatt looked out the window, toward the road. “You just made yourself a bigger target.”
“I was already one.”
“Yes.” His voice softened. “But he’s going to figure out that you know everything.”
They stood there in the quiet. Both realized the anger had burned off.
She stepped forward. “I’m not reckless, or na?ve.” She touched his arm. “And I don’t know… everything.”
He rolled his eyes.
“I’m not yours to manage.”
His jaw flexed as he dropped his hand. “You’ve made that clear.”
She feathered light touches over his arm. “But I am yours.”
That shifted something in his expression as he scoffed. “You cool down fast.”
“I process fast.”
His face softened. “Don’t get yourself killed trying to prove you’re smarter than him.”
“I don’t need to prove I’m smarter.”
“You are, but you are also stubborn as hell.”
She grumbled. “You’re grumpy when you’re worried.”
“You’re relentless when you’re scared.”
She froze. Well, damn, that man is smart. She nodded, staring at the screen. “He won’t wait,” she mumbled.
“No, he won’t.” He picked up his phone. “Cal needs to see this.”
She nodded, and as he stepped outside to make the call, she looked back at the financials again.
William Thomas. Independent Fire Risk Consultant. The title almost makes me laugh. He doesn’t want to manage disasters. The son of a bitch wants to manufacture them. And somewhere out there, he is probably watching the same clock I am, waiting for me to make the wrong move.
WYATT
It was early afternoon as Wyatt stood in the Salt & Steel kitchen, looking out at the road. He shook his head and yelled. “Company!”
Through the window, Wyatt saw Will before Will saw him.
Letty ran up to Wyatt. “What’s he doing here?”
Wyatt smiled. “You could just stay in here.”
She cocked her head. “Fat chance.”
He rolled his eyes as they walked to the Salt & Steel door.
Cal sauntered up behind him and handed him an earpiece. “Let’s see how this plays out with the two of you and him. We’re ready.”
I would expect nothing less. He led Letty to the door, keeping her behind his hip as Will stepped out of a rented black SUV, adjusting the cuff of his jacket like he was arriving at a faculty reception instead of a private security headquarters. He looked… composed, and that irritated Wyatt.
Letty stepped out behind him onto the dock, stiffening her posture. “Of course, dressed as if he’s about to give a presentation,” she grumbled. “I’m a little surprised he showed up without an entourage.”
Will spotted them and smiled.
Cal spoke into Wyatt’s earpiece. “It’s convenient that he came to us.”
Will approached without hesitation. He held his hands out from his sides with a knapsack on his shoulder. He climbed the dock ramp and stopped at a respectful distance. “Dr. Duval.” He beamed.
“Will.” She answered with no warmth in her voice.
“I hope I’m not interrupting.”
“You are,” Wyatt replied.
Will’s eyes flicked to him for the first time with a subtle assessment. “And you are?”
“Wyatt Boone.”
Recognition sparked in his eyes. “Ah,” He stiffened his jaw. “Salt & Steel.”
“Yes.”
“I’ve heard good things.”
Wyatt didn’t respond.
Letty stepped forward. “What are you doing here, Will?”
“I was hoping we could talk,” he replied easily. “In private.”
“No.” Wyatt’s curt response got a smile from Letty.
Will’s expression didn’t shift. “I don’t think I was speaking to you.”
“You are now.”
The air tightened as Cal stepped up from behind. “You can speak inside.”
Will nodded, accepting the invitation. “Fair enough.” He looked back at Letty. “I’ve been hearing some concerning rumors.” He stepped inside. “About the direction of your inquiry.”
She folded her arms. “My inquiry?”
“Yes. Into the fire.”