Chapter 70
EMMA
Three days later, I need to get out of the house.
Jake's been hovering. Not obviously—he's too controlled for that—but I feel it. The way he checks his phone constantly. The way his eyes track me when I move from room to room at Blackthorn Ranch.
The way he tenses every time a truck drives past on the main road.
Cole Turner's threat hangs over us like smoke. Invisible but suffocating.
Yesterday, I managed to finagle some alone time at the Circle H to go over my dad’s notes.
Jake went with me but headed to talk with Jim, my foreman.
I ensconced myself in my dad’s office and made notes.
I jotted down the coordinates he circled twice for late-night runs, no livestock logged, trucks in and out fast. If there’s something out there—something Dad saw but couldn’t prove—I’ll find it.
I’ll go at dusk, park off the access road, hike in quiet and keep low. Get the shots. Get proof. Sitting here wondering what Dad meant won’t protect me, but knowing might.
I just have to figure out what excuse to give Jake.
But then on Friday afternoon, Jake’s nowhere to be found, so I strike while the iron is hot. I quickly make plans. I don’t know where Jake is, but if I slip out before he gets back, I’ll actually have a shot at checking out the section of land my dad noted.
My plans include the perfect alibi—Lily Carter.
Want to grab a drink at the Rusty Spur? Need girl talk.
Her response comes back in thirty seconds.
Lily Carter
Hell yes. 7?
Make it 8.
That should give me enough time to check out the coordinates. And I can honestly tell him I met Lily for a drink.
I leave him a note on the kitchen counter instead.
Out with Lily. Back by 10. Love you.
Simple. Direct. True.
He'll be pissed when he finds it.
But he'll understand.
I hope.