Chapter Twenty
The antiseptic sting of the county hospital hit Isla the moment she and Garrett stepped inside. They had been here too often lately, too many hours spent waiting for news that was never simple, never easy.
Tonight was no different.
Sheriff Raines was in surgery. Randall, too. Both alive when they were brought in. Isla told herself she didn’t care about Randall, that she wanted him to suffer, but the thought of him walking away from everything he had done made her fists curl.
She and Garrett made their way down the hall to Trudy’s room and immediately spotted Crossfire Ops’ operative, Delaney Hart, who was at her post outside Trudy’s room. Delaney had a book open in her lap, but her eyes were sharp when Isla and Garrett approached.
Isla managed a weary smile. “Thanks, Delaney. You might not be needed much longer. The danger’s over.”
Delaney arched a brow. “You sure about that?”
“Sure enough,” Garrett said, though his voice carried the weight of everything they’d been through.
With that, Delaney took out her phone, no doubt to contact Noah to verify it was all right for her to leave, and Isla pushed open the door.
Trudy was propped up against a pillow, the harsh hospital light making the bruises stand out against her skin. Her eyes widened the moment she saw them.
“What are you doing here? It’s late. Past visiting hours. What happened?” she blurted, her words running together.
Isla’s throat tightened. God, it rattled her to see her foster mom in this bed, knowing exactly who had put her here.
Randall.
The man who’d stolen Harris’s life, the man who’d tried to destroy all of theirs. Isla eased closer, brushing her hand gently over Trudy’s.
“We found out who did this to you. It was Randall,” Isla said.
Trudy’s smile faded, replaced by a flood of emotions Isla could see flicker across her face—shock, anger, sorrow. “Randall,” she whispered, her eyes closing for a moment. “Tell me. What happened?”
Garrett pulled up a chair, his jaw tight. “We met Harris at an old ghost town school. First, his hired gun, Victor Kane, showed up, and Randall wasn’t far behind. Both tried to kill us.” He paused. “Randall confessed. He admitted to taking Harris all those years ago. And to killing Leah.”
A tear slipped down Trudy’s cheek, but she held his stare. “My God.”
Isla added softly, “Harris heard every word. He almost… he almost let the anger take him. He had a gun, and he wanted to pull the trigger.”
Trudy’s hand trembled on the blanket. “And?”
“I talked him down,” Isla assured her. “He let me take the gun.”
Trudy’s eyes filled with more tears. “And Harris? How’s he holding up?”
“He’s at the station,” Garrett explained. “The deputies are questioning him, but no one believes he was involved in the attack.”
Trudy’s grip tightened weakly on Isla’s hand. “That poor boy. Everything he thought he knew, ripped away in a night.”
Isla swallowed hard, the exhaustion pressing in on her like lead. She and Garrett were wrung out, every nerve still wired from the storm and the gunfire. But what they felt was nothing compared to Harris. His whole world had collapsed.
They didn’t linger long with Trudy. After the rawness of their words and the heaviness still in the air, it felt cruel to press her for more.
Isla bent and kissed her cheek, Garrett’s larger hand resting briefly over Trudy’s frail one.
“Get some rest,” Isla whispered. “We’ll try to bring Harris to see you in the morning. ”
Trudy nodded, eyes glassy but determined. “You do that. He needs family now more than ever.”
They left quietly, the door easing shut behind them, and walked back down the sterile hall to the waiting room.
The hour was late enough that the place was nearly empty.
Only Noah sat in the corner with Anais beside him.
She looked drained, her eyes swollen from crying, and when she lifted her gaze to them, Isla felt the ache of her grief.
“I just came from the station,” Anais said, voice rough. “Harris will be over soon, but I wanted to check on my dad.” She swiped at her face, shaking her head. “Even after everything he’s done, he’s still my father. But I’ll never forgive him for what he did.”
Anais’s face crumpled, and fresh tears spilled over as her voice broke. “Did Dad really kill Mom?”
Isla’s chest tightened. She wished she could soften the truth, but there was no mercy in lies. “Yes,” she said quietly. “He did.”
Anais pressed her fists to her mouth as if she could hold back the sobs, but they came anyway. “This is all my fault,” she choked out.
“No,” Isla started, but Anais shook her head hard, words tumbling fast.
“I had a friend… he’s good with computers.
He hacked files for me. I know it’s illegal, but I had to know.
At first it was just my own stuff, then my parents’, normal things.
And then I found something in Dad’s financials that didn’t add up.
So I kept digging. I told Mom. And she—” Anais’s voice cracked.
“She started searching on her own. She found that address, the house where she…”
Her words collapsed under the weight of it.
“She went there for answers,” Anais whispered, tears streaming down her face. “And Dad killed her.”
Isla leaned closer, her voice firm but gentle. “This isn’t on you, Anais. The blame is all on your father. Every bit of it.”
Anais shook her head, tears sliding faster until they broke into sobs. “I can’t—” Her words faltered, and she stumbled back a step. “I just need a minute.”
She sank heavily into one of the chairs lining the waiting room wall, burying her face in her hands. The sound of her sobbing echoed in the sterile quiet of the hospital.
Garrett bent his head toward Noah, keeping his voice low. “Any sign she was part of the attacks?”
Noah’s answer came steady. “Nothing. Not a shred of evidence that she was involved. And it’s the same with Paula. She was in the dark about what Randall did.” He paused, his expression grim. “Paula’s at the station now, being questioned. She’s shaken. But she didn’t know.”
“Good,” Isla and Garrett muttered in unison.
“Raines’ deputies swept Harris’s things,” Noah went on. “They found trackers. One on his phone, another in his fitness watch. And a third on his Jeep. That’s how Kane zeroed in on him.”
A chill slid down Isla’s spine. “So that’s how he knew where to find him.”
“Exactly,” Noah said. His jaw worked as if he were grinding back more anger. “But I’m betting Randall didn’t order Kane to fire those shots so close to Harris. He wanted control, not a body bag.”
Garrett’s gaze darkened, the muscles in his jaw turning to iron. “Still, Kane nearly put him in one.”
Isla nodded, her stomach twisting. “If Harris had been hit…” She let the words fade. No need to say more. They all knew how close it had come.
Garrett’s gaze locked on Noah. “What about Marion Cole? What did you find on her?”
Noah rubbed a hand over his face, weariness settling in his features. “She died when Harris was nineteen. Natural causes. No sign of foul play.”
“So, she didn’t have a part in what’s happened recently,” Isla muttered.
“No,” Noah said. “Randall and Marion were childhood friends. She had some family money, and she used it to help him get Harris settled after he took him. Later, after Randall married Leah and had more money than he could ever spend, he paid Marion well to stay quiet and keep raising Harris.”
Isla groaned. Randall hadn’t just stolen a baby. He had crafted an entire life of lies, and Marion had been woven into the heart of it.
The door opened, and Harris stepped in. Anais shot to her feet as if pulled by a string and wrapped her arms around him.
He seemed to welcome it, holding her close, and Isla felt a wash of relief.
At least they had each other now, with their mother gone and Randall facing prison if he even survived his injuries.
When Harris finally let go, his gaze shifted to Isla. “Thank you,” he said, his voice rough. “If you hadn’t stopped me, I would have pulled that trigger. I would have regretted it for the rest of my life.”
Emotion tugged at her chest, but she only gave a small nod.
Harris dragged a hand down his face. “I’ve seen Randall before, you know. Before tonight.”
That got Isla’s attention. “When?”
“Plenty of times,” Harris explained. “I didn’t know it was him until I saw his face tonight, but over the years, he was with Marion a lot. I thought he was her boyfriend. And later, he helped me get started in the music business.”
So, Randall had found a way to be part of his son’s life. The son he’d stolen.
“He called himself Frank Dalton,” Harris added. “I never questioned it.” His eyes burned with confusion and anger.
“No reason you would have questioned it,” Garrett assured him. “What about Leah, what about your mother, was she ever on any of those visits?”
“None,” Harris quickly replied, and that brought on yet more anger, more confusion.
Isla totally got that. All these years Randall had kept Leah from her own son, and he’d caused so many people to have to live with the sickening dread and guilt over Harris’ disappearance.
“Why? Why did Randall do this?” Harris asked. His voice cracked, and Anais slipped her arm around his waist, pulling him closer to her.
Isla drew in a breath, wishing she had a better answer for him.
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “My guess is that once Randall took you, the truth got harder and harder to face. Up until you were seven, he could have been arrested. After that, maybe he was safe from prison, but admitting what he’d done would have destroyed his reputation.
He could have lost his daughter, probably his friends too.
And Leah—she never would have forgiven him for keeping you from her. ”
“And Randall was probably terrified of losing you, too, Harris,” Garrett added. “Whatever twisted way he thought about it, keeping the secret was his way of holding on.”