Chapter 26
Riley
The sheriff’s office smelled of coffee and pine-scented cleaner as Dungar and I hunched over his meticulously organized evidence board the next evening.
Outside, stars spangled the night sky, and Main Street had gone quiet hours ago.
Only the occasional creak of the building when a gust of wind hit it just right interrupted our focused silence.
“It’s all here.” I traced a timeline we’d constructed across a sheet of graph paper. “Every luminook disturbance, every security breach, every suspicious sighting. We just missed the pattern.”
Dungar grunted in agreement, his finger tapping three specific incidents marked in red. “The timing shifted. First breaches occurred between noon and two. Then they moved to early evening. Now they’re happening after midnight.”
“Adapting to our surveillance schedule?” I said, my shoulder brushing his arm as I leaned in. The contact sent heat through me despite the seriousness of our situation. “I wonder if they’ve been studying our patterns.”
“If so, that means they’re watching us watching them.” Dungar’s dark eyes met mine, his expression somber in the low light. Even exhausted after days of investigation, with his hair slightly mussed from running his fingers through it, I found him breathtaking.
“Look at the locations.” I redirected my focus to the map spread across his desk. “First the outer perimeter was breached, then the storage areas, now they’re targeting the pens directly.”
Dungar nodded, arranging colored pins on the map. Red for confirmed breaches, blue for suspected activity, yellow for areas we’d reinforced. “They’re working their way inward, methodically testing our defenses.”
“This isn’t Mary’s group doing habitat enhancement.”
“No.” He placed the last pin, stepping back to assess the pattern. “This is someone else, but who?”
We’d been at this for hours, reviewing every scrap of evidence since discovering our original suspects were innocent. The humiliation of that mistake still pinched, but we’d moved past it, determined to find the real culprit before any luminooks were harmed.
I stretched, my back protesting the hours of my bent posture. “I need to move. Fresh air might help us think.”
Dungar’s eyes softened as he watched me roll my shoulders. “Stakeout?”
“You read my mind.” I reached for my jacket. “Let’s go remove that spiderweb that’s interfering with the camera pointed at the back of the maintenance shed.”
He was already collecting his equipment belt, flashlight, and radio. Each item went into its designated place on his belt. “I’ll take the east approach, you cover the west.”
“Planning to flank a spider?” I smiled, a spark of teasing cutting through my fatigue. “I like how you think, Sheriff.”
His answering smile made my heart stutter. “That’s why we make a good team, Deputy.”
The night air bit through my jacket as we slipped out the back door, avoiding the boardwalk out front that might alert anyone watching. Dungar’s hand found the small of my back, guiding me through the shadows between buildings with the confidence of someone who’d memorized every inch of the town.
“Stay low,” he whispered as we approached the maintenance area. “The moon’s bright enough to cast shadows, and our suspect could be near, watching.”
I nodded, crouching beside him behind a stack of lumber. From this vantage point, we could see both the back of the shed and the path leading toward the luminook pens. My pulse quickened as I scanned the silvery landscape, my every sense heightened.
Dungar pointed, his breath warm against my ear. “What do we have here?”
A shadow slid through the darkness near the shed door, moving slowly, carefully. They’d dressed in loose dark clothing and wore a ski mask to disguise their face.
“It’s them,” I whispered, and he nodded.
The person paused at the door, testing it, then moved around to the window.
“They’re checking to see if anyone’s inside,” I breathed.
Dungar’s body tensed beside mine. “Heading toward the pens now.”
They moved quickly, keeping to the shadows, using terrain features for cover. They knew exactly where to step to avoid the most visible areas.
“Let’s go,” Dungar growled.
We burst from our hiding spot, Dungar veering right while I cut left, executing the flanking maneuver we’d silently agreed upon. The figure froze for a second, looking our way, then bolted around the luminook pens and out into the vast plain beyond.
“Sheriff’s department. Stop,” I shouted, my boots pounding the ground as I gave chase.
They glanced back once, then redoubled their speed, fleeing across the plain, heading for the tree line where the darkness would give them plenty of places to hide. They moved with the confidence of someone familiar with the landscape, cutting across uneven ground without hesitation.
Dungar was faster than me, his longer legs eating up the distance, but even he was struggling to close the gap. The intruder ducked between two large boulders, briefly disappearing from view.
“Cut right,” Dungar called.
I veered sharply, hoping to intercept them as they emerged, but they’d already changed direction. By the time we reached the trees, the figure had vanished into the dense forest, leaving only disturbed underbrush behind.
Breathing hard, I stopped beside Dungar. “They knew exactly where they were going.”
“Someone familiar with the territory.” He frowned, scanning the silent forest. “They didn’t panic when we appeared. They had an escape route planned.”
“A local or someone who’s spent enough time here to learn the landscape?”
Dungar’s expression darkened. “Either way, they’re more prepared than we expected.”
So close, but they’d gotten away.
We searched the area for at least an hour, but found no further sign of the intruder. Whoever it was had melted into the night, leaving us with nothing but questions and the unsettling certainty that they’d return.
Dawn was breaking as we trudged back to town, the first pale fingers of light stretching across the eastern horizon. My phone vibrated in my pocket, and I fished it out, expecting a message from one of Dungar’s brothers.
Unknown number.
My stomach clenched. Only one person would call from a blocked line at this hour.
“I need to take this,” I told Dungar, stepping to the edge of the narrow trail through the deep grass.
He nodded, giving me space but staying close enough to be there for me if needed.
Hand shaking, I swiped into the call. “James.” I used my real surname for the first time in months.
“Good morning, Ms. James.” The familiar voice of Marshal Thomas, my handler from the Witness Protection Program, came through clearly. “I’m calling with news you’ll want to hear.”
My pulse quickened. “I’m listening.”
“The Blainsworth brothers were arrested yesterday on multiple counts of money laundering, securities fraud, and attempted witness intimidation.” A note of satisfaction rang out in his voice.
“Federal agents executed search warrants on their homes and offices simultaneously. The evidence is substantial.”
I struggled to process his words, my free hand unconsciously stretching out to find Dungar’s. He stepped closer, his warm fingers enveloping mine.
“Are you saying…?” I couldn’t finish the question.
“I’m saying the immediate threat to your safety has been neutralized,” Thompson said. “Their assets are frozen. Their passports have been seized. The network of hired help they’d assembled to locate you will have no financial or physical support any longer.”
“They’re really gone?” My voice came out small, disbelieving.
“The case is solid. They’re going to be locked up for a very long time.” I could almost see his warm smile. He must love being able to deliver good news every now and then. “You’re free, Riley. You can come out of hiding.”
The words I’d dreamed of hearing for two years washed through me. My knees shook, and Dungar’s arm slipped around my waist, supporting me.
“What does this mean for my status in the program?” I asked, though I already knew the answer.
“You have options now. You can maintain your new identity or reclaim your old one. Return to your former life or build a new one. The choice is yours.” He paused. “Do you need time to think about it?”
I looked up at Dungar, whose concerned eyes searched my face. The golden mark on my wrist stood out in the morning light, a reminder of everything I’d found here in Lonesome Creek.
Everything I didn’t want to leave.
“No,” I said. “I don’t need time. I’m staying where I am.”
“Sounds good. I’ll send the paperwork to make everything official. You’re no longer a protected witness, Riley James. You’re simply a citizen who chose a new name and a new life.”
“Thank you,” I whispered. “For everything.”
After a few more details about the formal end of my participation in the program, I ended the call, my hand barely able to hold onto the phone long enough to tuck it inside my pocket.
“Are you alright?” Dungar asked. “Do you need to sit down or…I could carry you anywhere you want to go.”
I did enjoy being in this male’s arms.
I turned to him, unable to contain the emotions surging through me. “They got them. The Blainsworth brothers. They’re in federal custody.”
His eyes widened. “You mean—”
“I’m free.” Saying it out loud made it feel real. “The people who were hunting me are in jail. I don’t have to run anymore.”
For a moment, Dungar simply stared at me, processing the implications. Then his face transformed with a joy so pure it stole my breath. He lifted me off my feet, spinning me in a circle before setting me down again.
“You’re safe,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “Truly safe.”
I nodded, tears blurring my vision. “I can stay in Lonesome Creek, Dungar.”
“With me?” The vulnerability in his question made my heart ache.
“With you.” I stroked his face, tracing the strong line of his jaw. “If you’ll have me.”