Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
Caleb was still thinking about that kiss the next day, early in the morning.
And no, he hadn’t left town. After spending just a short ride with Tessa, inset with that sweet moment, he just hadn’t been able to bring himself to leave.
Instead, he’d decided to take the phones and IDs he got off those men to town today and ship them express as soon as the shop opened.
Some peace would be nice. Maybe not because I’m trying to convince myself I did the right things, but if You could take the fear?
Protect Pops and Tessa, and her father.
He needed wisdom—and an answer on how to take down Nathan Kessler.
Caleb knelt in the closet and pulled the white envelope that had been in the safe from the spot where he’d hidden it.
Under the loose floorboard in the closet where he’d found a couple of baseball cards he and Noah had left behind.
Things they’d thought were priceless years ago.
A silver dollar he’d totally forgotten about that he slipped in his jeans pocket now because it felt like a piece of Noah with him.
Caleb’s hair fell over the sides of his face. He tucked back one side and sat on his behind in the closet door to tug the paper and photo out of the envelope.
Had his parents really sent this?
He didn’t want to think about if his mom or dad had touched this.
Why they’d chosen to get involved, and the whole minefield of why they stayed away.
He’d rather not think about them at all, so he didn’t get all twisted up about it.
Noah was the same, but he didn’t show his emotions the way Caleb could.
The ache in his chest was about missing his brother. Nothing else.
He didn’t want to care if his parents came back, or if he ever saw them again.
Caleb set the two pages on the floor and took a photo of both, sending them to his brother’s email address with a note.
This can’t stay with me. It needs to get out.
Lives, and justice, are at stake.
He knew who he could trust in this world and who he couldn’t. Bottom line was that it landed on Noah and Pops.
And now Tessa.
Caleb blew out a breath and shook his head. Talk about worst timing ever. In the middle of trying to figure out this case, he was falling for the girl next door—the one he’d had a crush on in high school and definitely had a thing for now.
The woman she’d become was exactly who he wanted to come home to. Her warmth and sweetness were nothing like the world he lived in. She was a refuge, a place he found solace.
And his life might be the thing that ended hers.
A shadow darkened the doorway, the shuffle of movement bringing his head up. “Pops.”
“You haven’t sat on the floor in a long time.”
Caleb shrugged. Pops came over and sat on the end of the twin bed that was Noah’s. The one with the rumpled covers, from Tessa sleeping there last night while Caleb camped out on the couch.
“Everything okay?”
“I’m just trying to figure this out.”
Pops said, “We need another pot of coffee for that.”
He wanted to argue that all of life’s problems couldn’t be solved by simply brewing another pot of coffee…but Caleb wasn’t sure there was evidence it didn’t work. Seemed like a lot of the time it did.
“I should get going soon,” Caleb said. “The shipping place opens in forty minutes.”
Pops nodded. “Show me what you’ve got. Maybe I can help.”
The old man always said that. He was smart, but no one was good at everything. He’d try and help with homework by making suggestions. Sometimes they actually helped Caleb figure out the answer, even though Pops had no idea how to do pre-Calculus.
Pops studied the invoice while Caleb looked at the photo, a grainy image of Nathan Kessler in a suit. That street could be so many places across the world. Who knew where it was taken, or who took it.
Caleb didn’t think he could get any valuable intel from this image. He flipped it over.
Huh.
A series of numbers had been handwritten on the back of the image, ones he hadn’t noticed before. They were faint, in pencil in the corner.
He typed the first set of numbers into a web search and discovered it was a SWIFT bank identifier code for a branch of a worldwide bank in Zurich.
“Now we’re getting somewhere.”
Pops said, “See? I helped.” He shook his head. “This isn’t money laundering, right? It’s just an invoice for aluminum. Not an unusual amount or price—like on TV when they order too much or overcharge.”
“Depends what it’s for, but you’re right there’s nothing unusual about that invoice.”
“What about the company, Westward Holdings?” Pops handed over the paper.
Caleb took a picture of the company name and address and ran a web search on the image. “Well, now. Look at this.”
“What is it, son?”
“The company is one owned by Newton Chathers. Isn’t he the brother of Colin Chathers, the Senator?”
“I try to ignore politics as much as I can. Unless it pertains to the ranch.”
Caleb knew that. The old man knew what he could control and didn’t stress about what he couldn’t.
But he prayed for the world, the kingdom of God, and against the shedding of innocent blood every single time he said grace.
Every day, every meal. He lifted up the entirety of things he couldn’t control.
It was a humbling thing to hear, realizing you were so small on such a huge planet.
“Colin Chathers is a Senator in Virginia. Supposedly he’s gearing up to announce a run in the next presidential election. And this indicates his brother and his brother’s company might be connected to Kessler.”
“Does it indicate anything illegal?”
Caleb shook his head. “This bank account might. I should send these numbers on the back of this photo to Noah. He might have a friend in some clandestine agency, or know someone who can check into all this and figure out what we’re supposed to learn from it.
If the senator, or his family, is connected to Kessler then it’s possible that the guy is trying to get a friend of his elected. ”
“Maybe he wants to control the presidency from behind the scenes.”
“It’s absolutely possible. And if that’s the case, then bringing down Kessler and Chathers will put a stop to that plot. We can’t have someone like Nathan Kessler thinking he can pull strings behind the scenes in Washington.”
Pops shook his head. “Bit above my pay grade.”
“I don’t know about that. Seems like you’re doing just fine.”
His grandfather smiled.
“I’m glad I came home. Thanks for keeping the porch light on, Pops.”
“I told you I always would.”
“You knew your two prodigal grandsons would need a place to come home to.” Caleb tried to make light of it, but the truth was this old man had saved his life more times than he could count, and Pops had never given up on either of them.
Pops swallowed. “I’m real glad you came home.”
“I knew I could, and that’s a powerful thing.” Not that he’d simply had nowhere else to go. He’d needed Pops, that steady presence of his and the physical strength he had. “Thanks for being here.”
“One day it’ll be yours, and I’ll be gone.” He cleared his throat. “I’m realizing I need to savor every moment I have here and do what I can to make it count.”
Caleb didn’t want to think about that, but there would be a time when Pops wouldn’t be here. “If we can get Noah to come home for Christmas, we can really make it count. The three of us.”
Pops nodded, a sheen of moisture in his eyes. “I’d like that.”
“Me too.” Caleb stood. “Love you, Pops.”
His grandpa stepped into his arms, and they shared an embrace that lasted until they’d said what they needed to without words.
“Love you, too, son.” Pops patted his back, and Caleb stepped away.
Caleb sniffed, gathering up the papers and the package with the phones. He put the envelope back in the floor.
“That’s where you hid stuff all those years?”
Caleb chuckled. “I figured you knew. You always seemed to be one step ahead of us.”
Pops shook his head. “I doubt that. But I ran a pretty good game.”
“You had two lost teenage boys on your hands. I’m not sure I could’ve done it if I got saddled with all that, and I’m not sure you could’ve done it better.” He set a hand on Pops’ shoulder. “No one asked you to take us on. You just did it.”
“They loved you,” Pops said. “They didn’t want to have to leave you, but they had important jobs.”
“They weren’t here for Noah and me. You were.” He kissed the old man on the forehead. “I’ll be back soon.”
Pops lifted his chin.
Caleb headed for the front door, blinking back the tears that had gathered in his eyes. From thinking about his parents, missing Noah, and feeling the pain in his arm from the flames…all of it made it so his emotions were a whole lot closer to the surface.
Pops had stepped in when his parents stepped out. He’d assumed for a long time it was because they’d been killed, and the truth had never made it back to the family.
Now he knew it was their choice it was all the more poignant that Pops took them on.
Given Caleb’s current situation, the desire to have a normal family Christmas with his twin and their grandfather—and Tessa and her dad—was more powerful than ever.
If he could close this case and bring down Kessler.
Or put in motion the end of what had them all in danger…
Then he’d be able to embrace the holiday season fully.
He could finally think about a future with the girl next door.
Caleb drove to town in Pops’ truck, the highway almost empty except for a couple of trucks.
People braving the cold to get where they needed to go.
Rush hour in small town Montana didn’t exactly get busy.
Adding the snow on the sides of the road, and the heavy clouds threatening to bring more precipitation tonight, it was probably better to stick near the homestead.
He would, just as soon as he got this package mailed.
Even just months ago he’d have said he wanted to be an agent forever. Coming home and taking over the ranch from Pops, living the life the old man had been born into, had been the farthest thing from his mind.
Now it was like the dream of Christmas. It felt a whole lot like home should feel. Like peace, and comfort.
The work he’d been taught to do was what integrity and honor looked like. A life where he could court Tessa and convince her that marrying him would be the best choice she ever made.
Caleb wanted it.
He gripped the wheel, more certain of this decision than he’d ever been in his life.
The tires slid on the surface of the road and a second later he was spinning. Ice. Had to have been ice. He steered into the skid but kept turning out of control.
The truck bumped down an embankment into a ditch full of last week’s snowfall. Below it, ice. Below that thin layer of freezing cold water.
The hood splashed into it, spraying winter river water across the windshield.
Caleb managed to keep his head from hitting the steering wheel. The truck stopped moving and he sat there, still gripping the wheel with both hands.
Someone smashed the passenger window with a heavy duty flashlight. A second later they reached through the broken window for the package.
Caleb scrambled for his gun, but he was too late.