Chapter 9
Julie was halfway through her second cup of coffee when someone knocked on the cottage door.
She glanced at the clock above the small kitchen sink. It was just past nine in the morning and she wasn’t expecting anyone. The rented cottage sat far enough from the main road that visitors were rare.
Setting down her mug, she crossed the worn hardwood floor, peering through the window beside the door.
Cole Morrison stood on the narrow veranda with his hands shoved deep in the pockets of his work jacket. He looked uncomfortable in a way that had nothing to do with the cold.
Julie opened the door. “Hi, Cole.”
“Hi, Julie. I’m sorry to show up unannounced.” He shifted his weight, and she noticed the tension in his shoulders, the lines around his eyes that hadn’t been there at dinner. “I asked Susan where you were staying and she gave me your address. I hope that’s okay.”
“It’s fine.” She stepped back, gesturing him inside. “Come in. It’s freezing out here.”
He entered cautiously, as though unsure of his welcome. The cottage’s living room felt smaller with him in it. He was a tall man, and the space wasn’t built for someone his size.
“Would you like a cup of coffee?” she offered.
“No, thanks.” Cole remained standing near the door. “I won’t take up much of your time. I have something to ask you, and I’ll understand if you say no.”
Julie waited, studying his face. Whatever had brought him here, it wasn’t good news.
“There was an incident at the construction site,” he said. “Someone sabotaged the equipment and stole some expensive tools. The sheriff’s department is investigating, but they don’t have the resources for much more than filing a report.”
The journalist in her came alive and questions formed before she could stop them. “When did it happen?”
“Sometime during the night. I found it this morning.” He met her eyes. “I need someone who can discreetly investigate what happened. I need to understand who’s behind it and why.”
Julie felt something tighten in her chest. “You want me to look into it?”
“You have the skills,” Cole told her. “You know how to ask the right questions and understand what people aren’t saying out loud.”
She took a step back, shaking her head. “I’ve only lived in Sapphire Bay for a couple of months. You need someone who has relationships with the police and knows the community. I wouldn’t know where to start.”
“You’d start the same way you’ve started every investigation in your career.” His voice remained steady, but she heard the strain beneath it. “By learning, listening, and by being good at what you do.”
“I’m not a private investigator. I’m a journalist. Was a journalist.” The correction tasted bitter. “There’s a difference.”
“Not much of one, from where I’m standing.”
Julie moved to the window, looking out at the bare trees and the glimpse of lake beyond. “I’m sorry about what happened, but I’m not the person you need.”
Silence filled the room. She expected Cole to argue, to push harder. Instead, when he spoke again, his voice was quiet.
“I understand why you don’t want to help me.
But I’m asking anyway because I don’t have anywhere else to turn.
” He paused. “The truth is, I’m worried.
Not just about the project, but about what it means if someone in this community hates what I’m doing enough to destroy equipment in the middle of the night.
I need to know if this is one angry person or something larger.
I need to understand what I’m dealing with. ”
Julie turned to face him. The vulnerability in his eyes caught her off guard. This wasn’t a wealthy developer throwing money at a problem. This was a man genuinely frightened by what he’d discovered.
And despite every reasonable objection, she felt something respond to that fear.
“Even if I wanted to help,” she said carefully, “I’m looking for a full-time job. I can’t commit to something that might take weeks or months.”
“Then help until you find a job.” Cole’s response was immediate. “Whatever time you can give me, I’ll take it. I’ll pay you a consulting fee. And if you find work tomorrow, there’s no hard feelings.”
She should refuse. Every logical part of her brain screamed that this was a terrible idea. She knew nothing about the local dynamics, had no official standing, and would be operating completely outside her comfort zone.
But another part of her, the part that had driven her career, whispered something different. This was an opportunity to use skills that felt increasingly worthless. To prove, if only to herself, that she still had value beyond rejection emails and empty days.
“I don’t like starting something I can’t finish,” Julie told Cole.
“If you get another job, I’ll follow on from where you stop.”
Julie crossed her arms, trying to find one more solid reason to say no.
But the truth was, she’d already started thinking like an investigator.
Who had access to the site? What local groups opposed the development?
What did the timeline of the sabotage reveal about the perpetrator’s knowledge and opportunity?
The questions felt natural in a way nothing else had since she’d arrived in Sapphire Bay.
“Okay, I’ll do it. But only until I find another position,” she said finally.
Relief washed over Cole’s face. “That’s all I’m asking.”
“And I need to be clear,” Julie told him. “I might not find anything useful. I might turn up nothing but dead ends and speculation.”
“That’s more than I have right now.”
Julie nodded slowly, already regretting this decision even as a small spark of purpose flickered to life in her chest. “All right. Tell me everything that happened, starting from when you arrived at the site this morning.”
Cole pulled out one of the cottage’s mismatched chairs and sat down. And as he began describing what he’d found in the pre-dawn darkness at Finley Point, Julie reached for the notebook she’d thought she’d never use again.