Chapter 25
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
The day of the operation crawled by like a wounded animal.
Jo arrived at the station early, before the sun had fully cleared the trees.
She needed the quiet—time to think, to steady herself before the chaos of the day began.
Lucy was already there, curled near Sam's office door, which meant Sam had beaten her in.
Of course he had. The man probably hadn't slept at all.
She poured herself a coffee she didn't want and settled at her desk, pulling up case files she had no intention of reading. The evidence box was locked in Sam's office now, waiting. Everything was in place.
All they had to do was survive the next sixteen hours.
Kevin arrived at seven-thirty, looking about as rested as Jo felt. He dropped into his chair with a grunt and immediately started typing—busywork, same as her. Something to do with his hands while his mind churned through everything that could go wrong tonight.
Wyatt came in fifteen minutes later, and Jo had to give him credit—he looked almost normal. A little pale, maybe. A little tight around the eyes. But he walked to his desk with the same steady stride he always used, nodded to Reese, scratched Lucy behind the ears.
If she didn't know better, she'd think it was any other day.
But she did know better. And so did everyone else.
The morning passed in fragments. Phone calls that didn't matter. Paperwork that would still be there tomorrow. The station filled with its usual sounds—voices, footsteps, the gurgle of the coffee maker—but underneath it all was a tension that hummed like a live wire.
Keller arrived at ten.
Jo saw him come through the front door—that measured stride, the professional smile he gave Reese—and felt her shoulders tense. He'd been watching them yesterday. He knew something was happening.
The question was what he planned to do about it.
Keller made his way through the bullpen, exchanging pleasantries with Kevin, nodding to Wyatt. Normal. Routine. But his eyes kept moving, cataloging, assessing. When his gaze landed on Sam's closed office door, something flickered across his face.
Then he was knocking, waiting for Sam's gruff "Come in," and disappearing inside.
Jo watched the door close and felt her stomach tighten.
Inside Sam's office, Keller settled into the chair across from the desk without waiting to be invited. Lucy lifted her head, watching him with calm, assessing eyes, but didn't move from her spot near the window.
"Chief Mason." Keller's voice was pleasant, professional. "Got a minute?"
"What's on your mind, Agent?"
Keller leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "Something's going on. I'm not blind. The closed-door meetings, your team going quiet whenever I walk in. People exchanging looks they think I don't notice." He spread his hands. "If this is connected to Cooper's murder, I need to know."
Sam kept his expression neutral. "We're following leads. Same as always."
"With respect, Chief, that's not an answer." Keller's jaw tightened. "Cooper was my partner. We worked together for three years. I have a right to know what's happening with his case."
Sam studied him for a long moment. The grief seemed genuine. The frustration too. But Sam hadn't survived this long by taking things at face value.
"What makes you think something's going on?" Sam asked.
Keller's expression shifted—something harder underneath the professional mask.
"Because I've been doing my own digging and there is something fishy about agent Shaw.
" He said the name like it left a bad taste.
"She's on personal leave. No official assignment, no Bureau sanction for being here.
I asked around—quietly—and no one seems to know what unit she's actually with. "
Sam felt something tighten in his chest. Keller had reached the same conclusion they had.
"Go on," he said.
"She's been asking questions. About cases I've worked, people I've talked to.
At first I thought she was just thorough—new agent, trying to prove herself.
" Keller shook his head. "But it's more than that.
She's digging into things that have nothing to do with Cooper.
Old cases. Cold files. The same files your team has been pulling. "
"You think she's compromised."
Keller met his eyes. "I think she might be working with the people who killed my partner."
The words hung in the air. Lucy shifted slightly, her attention fixed on Keller.
Sam weighed his options. Keller had come to him with information that confirmed what they already suspected. Either he was genuinely on their side, or he was very good at playing a long game.
"We're setting something up," Sam said carefully. "A meet. Tonight. Trying to draw out whoever's been pulling strings."
Keller straightened, his whole body going alert. "Let me help."
"This is a local operation. We're not—"
"Cooper was my partner." Keller's voice hardened. "I've been chasing shadows for weeks while his killer walks free. If you're getting close to whoever did this, I want to be there."
"I don't know how deep this goes," Sam said slowly. "If Shaw is dirty, there could be others. I can't risk this operation on—"
"I'm not dirty." Keller's voice was flat. "Cooper and I were close. Whoever killed him, I want them to pay. That's all I care about."
Sam held his gaze for a long moment. Lucy hadn't growled. Hadn't even tensed. She just watched, calm and patient, the way she did when she was reserving judgment.
"Alright," Sam said finally. "But you follow our lead. This is our town, our operation. You're backup, nothing more."
Keller nodded. "Understood. What do you need from me?"
"The meet is tonight. Midnight. Old mill on Route Seven.” Sam watched Keller's face carefully as he continued.
"Wyatt will be the one making contact. He'll have a wire, and we'll have people in the trees.
I want you as his shadow—close enough to intervene if things go sideways with all of us, far enough back that you don't spook whoever shows up. "
Keller didn't ask how Wyatt had arranged the meet. Didn't ask what Wyatt's connection was, or why he was the one making contact. He just nodded.
"I can do that. Keep him safe until you move in."
"If Shaw shows up—or anyone connected to her—we take them down. Clean and by the book. No cowboy stuff."
"Understood." Keller stood, extending his hand. "Thank you, Chief. For trusting me with this."
Sam shook it. "Don't make me regret it."
After Keller left, Sam sat in silence for a long moment. Lucy rose and padded over, resting her head on his knee.
They were committed now. The pieces were in motion.
Tonight, they'd find out who was really pulling the strings.
At four o'clock, Sam called a brief meeting in his office—just the core team, door closed. He told them about hsis meeting with Keller and how Keller had volunteered as backup.
"Final positions," he said, spreading a hand-drawn map of the mill property across his desk. "Kevin, you're here." He tapped a spot on the south side. "Good sight line to the main entrance, easy access to the road if someone tries to run."
Kevin nodded. "Got it."
"Jo, you're on the north approach with me and Lucy.
We'll have eyes on both the front and back of the building.
" Sam looked at Wyatt. "You go in through the main door.
Stop in the center of the floor—there's good acoustics there, the wire will pick up everything.
Don't go deeper into the building unless you have to. "
Wyatt's jaw tightened. "And Keller?"
"He'll be positioned between you and the north exit. Close enough to intervene, far enough back to stay hidden. We don't move until we have something on tape. A threat, an admission, something we can use. Wyatt, your job is to keep them talking."
"I can do that."
"I know you can." Sam held his gaze. "One more thing. If things go sideways—if you feel like you're in immediate danger—you say the word and we come in hot. Don't try to be a hero."
Wyatt nodded slowly. "What's the word?"
Sam almost smiled. "Lucy."
Despite everything, Wyatt let out a small huff of laughter. "Of course it is."
The meeting broke up. Jo lingered at the door, watching Sam roll up the map and slide it into his desk drawer.
"Hey," she said quietly. "You okay?"
Sam looked up. For just a moment, she saw the exhaustion underneath—the weight of command, the fear of sending his people into danger.
"Ask me tomorrow," he said.
Jo nodded. "Tomorrow, then."
The hours crawled toward midnight.
Jo went home to change—dark clothes, practical boots, her service weapon cleaned and loaded. Bridget was waiting in the kitchen, Pickles curled in her lap, her face pale but determined.
"Promise me," Bridget said as Jo headed for the door.
Jo paused, hand on the knob. "Promise you what?"
"That you'll bring everyone home."
Jo turned back. Her sister looked so small in the dim kitchen light, surrounded by the quiet comfort of the cottage she'd made her home. This was what they were fighting for. This fragile peace. This hard-won second chance.
"I promise," Jo said.
She hoped it wasn't a lie.
Eleven-thirty.
The team assembled at the staging point—a pull-off on a logging road half a mile from the mill. No lights, no sirens, just shadows moving through darkness.
Sam checked the wire taped to Wyatt's chest one final time. "Sound check."
"Testing, one two three." Wyatt's voice came through the earpieces they all wore, tinny but clear.
"Good." Sam stepped back. "Remember—keep them talking. Get something we can use. And if anything feels wrong—"
"Lucy." Wyatt managed a weak smile. "I remember."
Keller appeared from the darkness, dressed in black, his expression unreadable. "I'm in position whenever you give the word."
Sam nodded. "Go. Stay low. Don't move until we do."
Keller melted into the trees without another word.
"Alright," Sam said quietly. "Everyone to positions. Radio silence unless absolutely necessary."
They dispersed into the night—Kevin to the south, Jo and Sam to the north, Lucy padding silently at Sam's side.
Wyatt stood alone for a moment, the evidence box tucked under his arm, staring at the dark bulk of the mill in the distance.
Then he started walking.