Chapter 7
Brayden leaned back against an old, moss-draped live oak tree in the side yard of Monroe’s B&B on Bay Street. His cell phone in hand, he occasionally shifted to send a text message. To anyone passing by, he looked like one more relaxed tourist enjoying the shade.
In reality, his attention was divided between the physical therapy session taking place on the back porch and the general hum of activity around the house.
Unlike the Hideaway, Monroe’s ran a true B&B experience, renting individual rooms, offering a fully prepared breakfast, and serving light refreshments in the evening.
Someone was always on standby, much like a concierge, making sure guests had what they needed for an ideal stay.
Also, unlike the Hideaway, this B&B was in the heart of Brookwell, in the height of tourist season.
The steady traffic blended with voices as people moved between the local shops and the beach.
The expected noise was comforting and a big improvement over the construction annoyances he’d been coping with since his arrival.
Twenty feet away, Veronica worked with Abigail, fulfilling her commitment to keep the older woman on schedule with her post-op rehab.
Roni’s voice was calm and light, her directions precise, as she guided Abigail through a slow, controlled external arm rotation.
She had her hair pulled up into a clip, revealing the long line of her neck.
The navy-blue cropped pants hugged her toned legs as she moved, and the loose striped top flowed easily as she demonstrated, supported, and corrected her client.
She looked professional, cool, and utterly in control. As if the wild incident earlier hadn’t happened at all.
Brayden suspected he was the only one who could see the telltale signs of stress under her smile and the rigid set of her shoulders—as if her typically perfect posture was trying too hard.
He noticed the clench of her jaw every time a passing car slowed down for the stop sign at Bay and Central.
The events of the morning—the inundation of law enforcement, the search warrant, and the smug arrogance of Silas Vanbeck—had left their mark.
Veronica wouldn’t crack in front of a client, but he could see her usually unflappable poise fraying at the edges.
“Keep your breathing steady,” Veronica reminded her client. “Relax and let the motion be natural. No forcing it.”
“I’m trying.” Abigail lowered her arm and sighed through a wry smile. “Patience is hard, even at my age.” She paused for a drink of water. “Are you all right? We heard there was some nonsense and commotion at the Hideaway this morning.”
Brayden didn’t move, but he was listening.
The news about the search warrant had traveled fast, though he hadn’t expected B&B guests to have heard.
On the drive over, they’d stopped for gas and the cashier had quizzed Roni about the multiple cars from the police department and sheriff’s office.
Worse, somehow he’d heard about the reportedly stolen goods.
He assumed Vanbeck had leaked the story to erode the Hargrave credibility. It had been satisfying to disabuse the cashier of any wrongdoing, though clearly, it would be an uphill battle against the island rumor mill.
“Can’t beat a small town for a good line on juicy news,” Roni replied. “Nothing to worry about.” She sipped from her own water bottle. “A misunderstanding at best. I really can’t say more than that.”
“Well, I’m glad to hear it.”
“Thank you. Let’s just focus on getting that shoulder healed up. One more set.”
How she summoned that friendly, sincere smile was a marvel. Brayden shifted his focus as his phone vibrated in his plan. The caller ID showed a Guardian Agency headquarters line.
“Leggett,” he murmured, keeping his voice low so he wouldn’t disturb Roni or her client.
“Morning, man. You ready for the rundown on those ECM serial numbers?” Connor, his research assistant on this case, had been tracking the details on those units since Brayden found them.
The man was a tech savant who could dig up a paper trail through a brick wall and, having been trained by Claudia, the original best in class researcher, he was virtually unstoppable.
After Brayden had documented and removed the ECMs with Gamble recording the process via video call, Jess had taken the items to a safe deposit box for security.
Gamble was handling the legalities, treating the situation as a recovery rather than a movement of stolen goods.
The finer legal points weren’t Brayden’s priority.
He trusted his bosses to keep him on the right side of the law during his assignments.
“Give me some good intel,” Brayden said. Preferably something he could use to make Vanbeck squirm even more.
“Those ECM computer units you recovered were never installed in the machinery next door,” Connor revealed, a note of triumphant satisfaction in his tone.
“I tracked the manufacturer shipment records. Those specific serial numbers belong to a batch of backup replacement parts purchased three weeks ago. Legally bought and paid for by Deepsouth Excavation, LLC.”
Brayden smothered an oath. His gaze tracked the lovely landscaping and blooming flowers in the yard, but he was seeing that construction site. How long would they pretend they’d been shut down? “Let me guess. Deepsouth Excavation is a wholly owned subsidiary of Indigo Reef.”
“Nailed it,” Connor said. “Financials show no records of actual work completed, just a trail of expensive equipment bought and sold. Indigo Reef bought those units, kept them in storage, and then reported them stolen last night. It’s a total fabrication.
They bricked their own machinery, pulling the working ECMs to make the theft report look credible, while planting the backup inventory in the Hideaway shed. ”
“A lot of effort and expense just to frame Veronica,” Brayden whispered as a cold, dangerous fury settled into his chest. “Granted, I’m sure they don’t care which sister takes the fall. Any idea why they’re desperate enough to burn tens of thousands of dollars forcing them out?”
“Not to mention the formal complaints of industrial sabotage,” Connor continued.
“Until the authorities can pull back the veil on the bogus witness statement, the police department is under massive pressure from Indigo Reef’s legal team to provide protection at the site.
Vanbeck is claiming the Hargrave sisters are an ongoing threat to their business interests. ”
Brayden managed to keep his thoughts on Vanbeck’s fate to himself. The last thing they needed was an overheard death threat floating around. “So the site is locked down,” Brayden noted. “How long?”
“Unknown.” Connor was quiet for a moment, probably searching his online sources.
“Lead time on ECM replacements vary. They can’t legally run a single engine next door without admitting the stolen units were a scam.
Best guess is it’ll be a couple of days before anyone would believe they received new units. And that’s pushing it. “
A slow, razor-sharp smile spread across Brayden’s face. “A double-edged sword. They wanted to frame Roni, but now they’ve legally cornered themselves into a complete work stoppage.”
“Exactly.” Connor chuckled. “Watch your back, Brayden. Vanbeck is furious. He’s got to know it wasn’t Veronica who swapped out the contents of that crate. He’ll be looking for a way to make you pay for the embarrassment today.”
“Let him look,” Brayden said. “I’ve got plenty of friends in high and low places. Y’know, it might be worth it to send a drone over the site, just for kicks.”
“Be careful,” Connor said, ending the call.
Brayden slid the phone back into his pocket as Veronica wrapped up her session with Abigail. She gently massaged a cold pack around the woman’s shoulder, her movements methodical and caring. According to the protocol she’d shared on the way over, this marked the last ten minutes of the appointment.
“Thank you, Veronica.” Abigail patted her hand. “I’m sure my physical therapist at home will be thrilled by the progress. And you’ve taken such care to keep our vacation on track. I meant it when I said I wanted to come back to the Hideaway once the development is done.”
“I’ll look forward to hosting you,” Roni said. “Do you have anything fun planned for tomorrow night?”
“Not that I’m aware of.” Abigail grinned. “You have a suggestion?”
“Well, the Hideaway is hosting the local dance club. After work hours, so the construction site will be quiet. They’re teaching a shag class on the beach.
Free admission. The classic, relaxed moves won’t strain your shoulder at all.
The event starts at seven with light refreshments available.
It’s not the same as having the place to yourselves, but you would be able to enjoy the beach. ”
“That sounds like fun. Can the grandkids come along?”
“Of course,” Roni replied. “I hope to see you there.” With a wave, she walked over to join Brayden and they headed out to his truck.
The moment they were out of sight, her professional composure completely crumbled.
Her shoulders slumped, and she pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes, taking a ragged, trembling breath.
Brayden curled his arm around her. “You’re doing great,” he crooned at her ear. “Hang in there.”
Straightening, she gave him a grateful smile. “She’d heard about the warrant this morning. It makes me want to choke Vanbeck for spreading his lies. You know he did it.”
“Not arguing.”
“Even though we’re in the right, there will be some damage. I’m not sure how much the community events will save our business reputation. Maybe not at all.”
Heedless of who might be watching, he gathered her close to his chest. She let out a soft, shuddering sigh, burying her face in his neck, her hands gripping his shoulders as if he were the only lifeline in her world.
“We’ll get through it,” he soothed.
“I want to believe you,” she whispered, her voice thick with unshed tears. “But we look like the bad guys, especially after that feel-good article on Indigo Reef.”
“The truth will come out,” he reminded her. “Sooner rather than later. I’m sure of that.”
“I hope so. I overheard Betty Jo’s staff talking in the hallway. They think Natalie and Celeste and I are sabotaging the developers because we can’t compete. Rumors like that could destroy everything we’ve built.”
“Shh,” Brayden murmured, his hand gliding up and down her back.
“Those rumors aren’t anything of substance.
” He scrambled for the right words. “It’s nothing more than a thin fog, easily burned away with the smallest ray of sunshine.
People here know you and your sisters have integrity.
They know y’all care about this town as much as your personal business interests.
Never once have any of you been selfish.
” His fingers gently tangled in her blonde hair.
He held her tight, willing his confidence into her. “Come on, now. Take a breath.”
She pulled back slightly, her blue eyes wide, vulnerable. “You’re right. It’s just a moment.”
“One you’re entitled to,” Brayden said. “But remember, whatever the rumors, the developers didn’t win. They’re stuck in a mess of their own design.”
Veronica blinked, a tear spilling over her lashes. “You’re right.”
Brayden gently wiped the tear from her cheek before giving her a sweet kiss. “Let’s focus on enjoying the quiet at the Hideaway while the research team digs up the evidence you need to shut them down for good.”
“You think that’s possible?”
He nodded. “I absolutely do. It will probably take some time, but this gaffe will cost them. Time, construction costs, plus money and more time in court when their fake witness and the fraud come to light.”
“Good. The sooner the better.”
He couldn’t agree more.
A watery laugh suddenly escaped Veronica’s lips, her grip on his arms tightening. “They’re shut down and we’re not enjoying the silence nearly enough. We need to make the most of it.”
Smiling, he opened the door and she hopped in. She caught his shoulders, indulging in a lingering kiss. “One more client. I hope you don’t have other plans for this afternoon.”
“I’m all yours,” he replied. And his brain was a storm of ideas for ways to enjoy several hours alone with Roni on that private beach.
“You’re incredible,” she said when he slid into the driver’s seat. “I’m so glad you’re helping me through this mess.”
“I told you,” he whispered, reaching out to hold her hand. “You’ll never be without me. Now, let’s get you some lunch so you can go into your next appointment feeling strong.”