Chapter Twenty
REID
I SKIP MY usual marsh run with Emery Thursday morning, and by the time I make it to the marina, the air is already thick with humidity. I find Tate, shirtless as usual, in the bait shop. He’s leaning on the counter like he was expecting me.
“Well?” he asks, raising his eyebrows. “Did you talk her out of it?”
“I haven’t talked to her much at all,” I mutter. “I’m not going to change her mind.”
“You two lovebirds have a fight?” Tate smirks, amused with himself.
I ignore that. “I thought if I gave her some space to think about it, she would come to her senses, but I don’t think she’s going to.”
Tate shakes his head. “She’s going to the meeting tonight? Going in front of the council?”
“Yeah.” My voice comes out sharper than I mean it. “I practically begged her not to. She’s convinced showing them her charts is going to change something.”
He blows out a slow breath. “And you think she’s going to make herself a target like this.” It’s a statement more than a question.
“She’s digging into things they want to stay buried.”
Tate takes a sip of his coffee. “What are you going to do?”
“I’m not sure yet,” I admit, crossing my arms. “I don’t know if I can go there and watch her throw herself to the wolves. But how can I not?”
Tate leans back, eyes on me. “You can’t cage her, Morgan. Sounds like she’s going to do what she’s going to do.”
“I’m not trying to cage her. I’m trying to keep her breathing.”
Tate narrows his eyes, pushing his lips together. “You still think they did something to Penny, don’t you?”
Before I can answer, my phone buzzes with a text.
Emery: Will you be there tonight?
My stomach knots and I type out the only thing I know right now.
Me: I’m not sure.
I AVOID THE research center all day, and for the most part, things are quiet.
Boats come in, I tie them up and log them.
I refill fuel bins. Work the bait shop for a couple of hours.
Anything to keep my mind off Emery. I’m calling it a day by mid-afternoon when Kayla comes bounding out of the lab, backpack bouncing as she moves past me toward the gravel lot.
She waves. “Hey, Reid!”
I stop, wary. “Shouldn’t you still be in school?”
“Half-day.” She grins and I see how young she really is. “I came to help Emery. She says I’m getting good at checking tags and recording data. Isn’t it awesome what she’s doing?”
I stare at her. “Awesome’s not the word I’d use.”
Her smile falters. “She’s trying to save the turtles.”
“She’s risking her life for some reptiles, and there are people who won’t think twice about shutting her up,” I mutter. “And you cheering her on like it’s a pep rally isn’t helping.”
Kayla blinks at me, stung, but her chin lifts. “You sound like you’re scared.”
“I’m not scared.” The words rip out before I can stop them. “But she doesn’t know when to stop. And neither do you.”
“I guess you won’t be there tonight then…” Kayla lets her voice drop, disappointment written all over her face.
I meet her eyes and shake my head, feeling her glare burn into me as I turn my back and head for home.
I CIRCLE THE courthouse square twice before I finally pull into a spot in the back. Emery’s navy-blue Toyota Prius sits in the front row. I’m sure she was here early. Guilt twists in my chest at the thought of her waiting there alone, watching for my arrival.
I glance at the clock on the dash. Seven-thirty seven.
The town business bullshit should be wrapped up by now, which means they’ll open the floor to community members to speak.
I should just drive away. I told her I wasn’t sure if I was coming.
I have no obligation here. It’s probably better to let her have the floor, let her get shut down, let her see for herself how pointless this is.
I’m not fit to protect anyone—I’ve proven that time and again with my failed mission.
I missed all the signs with Penny. I couldn’t protect her.
I don’t know what makes me think I can protect Emery now.
But the thought of her standing up there alone—face to face with the good old boys of Tidehaven—turns my stomach.
For a long beat I just sit there, forehead against the steering wheel, fighting myself.
“Fuck,” I mutter. Then I shove the door open and step out.
By the time I push through the doors, her voice is already carrying over the microphone, steady and confident.
My throat tightens, because she’s doing it without me, just like she said she would.
I head for the back row, sliding into a seat in the shadows. Her eyes catch on mine, but she keeps talking.
The projector hums behind her, maps, charts and graphs that probably don’t mean much to the average resident.
Mayor Wynn nods politely, but I can see the irritation in the tight line of his mouth.
Councilman Roy Beck leans back in his chair, arms folded, eyes narrowed like he’s already decided she is a nuisance.
Then a picture of the turtle we found yesterday fills the screen. A close up of its damaged shell, the white chalky residue obvious to even the untrained eye. When she mentions the cut tag and the residue test, a murmur ripples through the room.
Roy Beck leans forward, cutting her off. “Dr. Caldwell, are you accusing your neighbors of criminal activity based on a blurry photograph and a field test you can’t verify?”
Emery doesn’t falter. “I’m presenting facts. Data. Science doesn’t lie, Mr. Beck. Ignoring this isn’t going to make it go away.”
Beck smiles without warmth. “Sometimes what you think you see in the marsh isn’t your business to explain.”
That does it. I’m on my feet before I know it, fists clenched at my sides. Heads turn; eyes dart. Emery’s gaze flicks to me, a look of surprise flashing on her face, but I can’t sit still while they dismiss her like that. While they subtly threaten her in front of everyone.
I stay silent, but the message is clear: I’m with her.
“Miss Cald—” the mayor interrupts.
“Doctor,” Emery corrects and pride flares in my chest. That quickly turns to fear when I think about how dangerous it is to poke these men in public.
“Doctor Caldwell,” he repeats. “We’re done here.” He bangs his gavel sending the message that she’s been dismissed.
Emery keeps her chin held high as she gathers her things. My pulse is hammering in my ears, and the crowd is chattering, watching us as I meet her at the doorway.
“Let’s go,” I grind out, guiding her out before she can argue.
We’re barely in the hall when we come face to face with Dale Langford, leaning against the wall like he was waiting for us, a smug grin on his face. He straightens, stepping close enough to her that I prepare to take a swing at him.
“Dr. Caldwell,” Dale drawls, too friendly. His palm finds her lower back, and she shifts uncomfortably. “Brave speech tonight. This town cares a lot about its reputation.” He pulls a business card out of his pocket. “If you want to see the boatyard sometime, I’d be happy to give you a tour.”
I step between them so fast that Dale drops the card, sending it fluttering to the floor. “She’s good, Langford,” I say, my voice gravel. “She’s not interested.”
Dale shoots me a wide smile, his eyes sharp and glittering. “I’m just being neighborly, Morgan.”
“You don’t know the meaning of the word,” I growl.
Behind him, his father tips his hat, silent and watching.
Emery lets out a breath beside me, shoulders tense but head still high. I take her arm, peppered with goosebumps, and steer her toward the exit. My hand burns with the need to hit something, but I keep it steady on her instead.
Once we’re outside, she jerks free, glaring. “I could’ve handled that.”
“Like hell you could,” I snap. I look at her, at the fire in her eyes, and I know this fight isn’t over. Not between us, not between her and the town.
“I don’t need a fucking bodyguard.” Emery narrows her eyes at me.
“Langford put his hands on you. You did.” My voice is rougher than I mean it.
“Jealous?” she scoffs, turning away.
“Emery. Fuck!” I shout in frustration, following her to her Prius. She ignores me, climbing in.
“I’ll see you around,” she mutters, slamming the door. She throws the car in reverse, and a second later her taillights bleed red across the blacktop as she pulls away, leaving me standing in the lot.
I stay there in the dark, fists in my pockets, watching her go. Every instinct in me shouts to follow, to make her understand what she just stirred up in that room. But chasing her down in the moment will only make her dig her heels in deeper.
So I let her go. For now.