Chapter 25 #2
We went to bed, but sleep eluded me. I lay staring at the ceiling, replaying every detail of the investigation, every assumption I’d made. Beside me, Riley’s breathing eventually evened into sleep, but my mind refused to quiet.
At 5:00 AM, I gave up pretending to rest. I carefully slipped from bed, not wanting to wake her, and went to the kitchen to start coffee. The familiar routine of measuring grounds and arranging mugs in precise alignment helped settle my churning thoughts.
“Couldn’t sleep?” Riley’s voice came from the doorway. She wore one of my shirts, her hair tousled from the pillow, and the sight of her in my space made my chest tighten.
“Too many variables to process.” I handed her a mug of coffee, prepared exactly how she liked it. “I keep thinking about what I missed, what I should have done differently.”
She leaned against the counter beside me. “Tell me something. In all your years of law enforcement, have you ever had a case where everything went exactly according to plan?”
I considered this, sipping my coffee while I reviewed my mental files. “Most cases have some unexpected elements.”
“So this feeling, this frustration with things not going perfectly is not new.”
“No, but—”
“But you still solve problems. You adapt, you adjust your approach, and you find new angles of looking at things.” She reached for my hand. “That’s what makes you good at your job, not your ability to predict everything.”
Her confidence in me was humbling. “What if I can’t solve this one? My systematic approach may not be enough.”
“Then we’ll solve it together.” She squeezed my fingers. “We make a good team, remember?”
I turned to study her face, taking in the certainty in her eyes. “How are you so sure?”
“Because I’ve seen you work. I’ve seen how you care about protecting people, how you never give up until you find the truth.” She lifted our joined hands, kissing my knuckles. “Besides, I have a vested interest in your success now.”
“Because of the mating bond?”
“Because I’m falling in love with you.” The words came out soft, almost whispered, but they hit me low in the belly.
I stared at her, unable to think. “Riley—”
“I know it’s complicated. I know my past makes everything harder. But being with you, working with you, seeing how much you care about doing the right thing—” She shook her head. “I can’t pretend I don’t feel it anymore.”
I set down my coffee mug and turned to face her fully, framing her face with my hands. “I love you too. I have since the moment you walked into my office. Maybe even before, when I was waiting for someone I didn’t know I needed.”
Her radiant smile transformed her face. “Really?”
“Really.” I leaned down and kissed her. “I love your analytical mind, your courage, and the way you challenge me to be better. I love how you fit in my life like you were always meant to be here.”
“I love your careful attention to everything, how safe you make me feel, and the way you see patterns in chaos. I love that you bought a grill because I mentioned liking grilled food.”
I chuckled against her mouth. “I’d buy a dozen grills if it made you happy.”
“Just the one is perfect.” She pulled back enough to meet my eyes. “We’re going to figure this out, Dungar. I know it.”
As the sun rose over the mountains, we prepared for the day ahead. I organized my notes while Riley made breakfast. When we rode into town, the golden light of dawn painted everything in warm hues, including the future that felt possible despite the unanswered questions ahead of us.
Aunt Inla's store wouldn't open for another hour, but I could see her moving around inside, preparing for the day. I knocked on the door, and she appeared a short time later, her silver-threaded hair coiled into a neat bun at her nape.
"Dungar, what brings you here so early?" She ushered us inside. "And Riley! Good morning."
"We need to ask you about official correspondence from our king recently," I said. "Specifically, communications regarding luminook habitat modification."
Aunt Inla's expression shifted to confusion. "Oh, that. Yes, I received my copy not long ago, a beautifully written letter from His Majesty himself. Such lovely penmanship."
My stomach dropped. "Your copy?"
"Well, yes. As senior community liaison, I always receive copies of royal directives that affect town operations.
" She moved to a filing cabinet behind the counter, sliding open a drawer.
"I assumed you received yours as well, which is why I didn't mention it.
The king was quite specific about coordination between our offices. "
She produced an envelope bearing the royal seal, the thick parchment unmistakable. I took it and read the elegant script that confirmed everything Mary had told us.
"This authorizes comprehensive habitat modification for surface-dwelling luminooks," I said, my voice tight. "Effective immediately upon receipt."
"With full cooperation between your office and the designated xenobiologist, yes." Aunt Inla studied my expression. "Dungar, dear, surely you received your copy?"
I shook my head, still staring at the document that validated everything I'd dismissed as suspicious. "No. I received nothing."
"But that's impossible. Royal correspondence always goes through proper channels. And I love my postmaster task here in Lonesome Creek. I tucked your letter into your mailbox myself."
A mailbox that I often forgot to open. I'd organized almost everything in my life, but this had somehow slipped through.
"Let's go see if Cara and Billy are up," Riley said. She explained to my aunt.
"Sounds like you might have your answer, then," my aunt said with a pert nod.
Riley's hand found mine, squeezing gently. "It's not your fault."
"Isn't it?" I carefully refolded the letter, placing it back in its envelope, tucking it into the folder in the drawer. "My entire approach to this case was based on incomplete information."
"You couldn't have known someone might tamper with the mail," Aunt Inla said. "Assuming that's what happened. Royal correspondence has never been intercepted before. Never."
But it may have been now, and the implications were staggering. If Mary, Ava, and Joyce weren't the thieves, then someone else was targeting the luminooks. Someone who'd remained hidden while I'd focused on the wrong suspects.
"We need to reconsider everything," I said as we left the general store. "The fence cuts, the equipment in the maintenance shed. Mary’s group didn’t agitate the luminooks."
"So we have an unknown suspect with professional capabilities and unknown motives." Riley's investigator mind was already working through the possibilities. "Someone who's been operating while we watched the wrong people."
We strode down the boardwalk to the saloon, finding Cara sitting at a table with Billy when we arrived.
Cara looked up with a smile as I approached. Billy slunk lower in his seat.
Riley and I tugged out chairs and sat. I quickly explained about a letter going missing, noticing how Billy fidgeted and looked ready to bolt.
"Do you happen to know anything about the sheriff's letter, Billy?" Cara asked.
"Maybe," he whispered.
She sighed. "I didn't hear you."
His shoulders slumped. "It's up in my room. I couldn't read it, and I can read a lot."
"Billy," his grandmother grumbled. "Go get it this instant."
He slid out of his seat and raced up the back stairs to the second landing, the thud of his sneakers ringing out as he hurried down the hall. He returned shortly with the letter.
Exactly the same as Aunt Inla's.
"Apologize," Cara growled.
"Sorry." Billy looked ready to slump on the floor.
"Don't think your parents won't hear about this, young man," his grandmother said. She stood and took his hand. "I'm terribly sorry. I promise nothing like this will happen again."
I just nodded as she took Billy back upstairs.
Riley and I left, striding to the jailhouse and settling at our desks, ready to begin our day.
"We'll start over," I said, tugging a fresh pad of paper and a brand-new pen from the drawer, placing them carefully on my blotter. "New investigation, new approach. This time, we'll find the right answers."
"We will." Her confidence in us, in me, steadied something that had been shaking since the interrogation revealed our mistake. "And next time, we'll check with Aunt Inla first."
I laughed despite the gravity of the situation. "Next time, I'll account for five-year-old interference in my contingency planning."
"Now you're learning." She stretched her arm out between us, and I took her hand, meshing our fingers together. "Our mistake eliminated three suspects and confirmed the king's initiative. That's progress."
She was right, though it didn't ease the sting of professional failure.
We had work to do, a real threat to identify and stop.
The luminooks were still in danger, and someone could still be planning to exploit them.