Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Finn
I hadn’t expected to walk into a war zone when I agreed to show up tonight. But one look at River Bennett sitting in that damn chair, and I knew peace was off the table.
I tried not to take her in too much the other night at the bar, but she looked the same.
No. Not the same. Sharper around the edges.
Like life had made her harder, or slightly more dangerous somehow.
She wore her hair differently, no longer like spun-gold silk to the middle of her back, but rather in a cut that rested on her shoulders.
She carried herself like she had something to prove and dressed in a way that was both comfortable and unassuming, yet she managed to be captivating.
But I knew her tells. The crossed arms. The tension in her jaw.
The glint in her amber eyes. She wasn’t just surprised to see me here tonight.
She was bracing for impact.
Fuck. So was I.
But all that aside, we were both a part of this now, and we had a job to do. So, I stayed. I listened. And I ignored the tightness in my chest.
“All right,” Rand said, dragging the attention back to the case and the files he’d spread across his part of the table.
“We know Jenkins filed a complaint weeks before she disappeared. As mentioned, the original report is MIA, but there are notes in the margins here. Someone referenced ‘HR interference’ and ‘community pressure.’ What the hell does that even mean?”
“It means someone didn’t want the complaint to stick,” River said, flipping through someone’s legal pad with some messy notes and color-coded highlights.
“You guys alluded to a cover-up before. And if I had to hazard a guess, I’d say whoever was involved was someone with authority and power to bury it. But why?”
I exhaled slowly. “‘Hazard a guess,’” I repeated. “That your expert input, Doc?”
Her head snapped up, eyes locking with mine. I felt the heat in them from across the way. “It’s called a preliminary profile. You want thorough? Give me time and resources. But right now? Yeah. My gut agrees with cover-up.”
“Your gut,” I said flatly.
“Yes, Sheriff. My gut.”
“We deal in facts. Evidence. Not instincts,” I grumbled.
“Actually, that’s not—” Nivea started, flipping that colored piece of her short hair back until Cade put a hand on her arm.
Libby winced and looked between River and me like she was watching a tennis match she didn’t want to referee.
“She’s not wrong, though, Finn,” Myra said. “I mean, there is something hinky about this whole thing.”
“Thank you,” River said and sat up a little straighter.
Libby’s phone buzzed on the table, and she picked it up to peek at it. “That’s probably Atlas. Let me go let him in.” She jogged up the stairs.
A few moments later, she came back in with a man who looked every inch the retired detective—rumpled button-down, leather satchel, slight limp. But his eyes were sharp.
“Sorry I’m late. Town meeting ran long.”
Atlas was the Community Safety Liaison for the Maple Ridge Civic Committee and took his job seriously. As the sheriff, I knew we were lucky to have him.
He took the empty chair near Nivea and ran a hand through his short, salt-and-pepper hair, then focused on the folder in front of Cade, zeroing in on it like he was still on the job. “Libby said we picked Jenkins. So, we’re reopening that old wound, huh?”
“Maybe we can solve it,” Cade said with a shrug, cracking another beer and then grabbing the last folder and handing it to Atlas. “River’s here now and compiling a profile. She agrees it might have been some kind of cover-up.”
“Yeah, I do, too,” Atlas said. “Hell, I knew Eleanor. Too smart for her own good. Ruffled some feathers. Didn’t play politics.”
“And you think it got her killed?” Rand asked with a small head shake. “The things she was involved in couldn’t have been anything that intense.”
Atlas shook his head. “Nah. Her affiliations weren’t the problem. I think she found something she never expected to find. Probably tried to report it. And someone made it all go away.” He looked at Cade. “Got any more of those?” He gestured to the beer.
Cade smiled and stood, walking to a cooler I hadn’t noticed before.
“I’ll take one, too, if you’ve got an extra,” I said.
“Comin’ right up.”
I cleared my throat and looked at Atlas again. “So, this very well may have been something way more sinister than just a missing persons case. But if we’re going to investigate, we need to follow the right channels. No theories without corroboration.” I shot a look at River.
She scoffed. “Says the guy whose job it is to find the truth and look for clues and still manages to miss too much.”
That hit harder than she knew. Still, what had happened between us wasn’t only on me.
“Careful, Bennett,” I said tightly.
“Or what?”
Cade’s easy grin softened the moment as he handed Atlas and me our beers and cut in.
“You know, I was at the bar the other night—I mean, obviously, I was at the bar.” He laughed.
“Anyway, I heard some chatter about a couple of council members leaning on the school board. Something about donations and ‘development influence.’ Anybody know anything about that?”
River raised an eyebrow. “Development influence? I’m going to echo Rand from earlier and say, what does that even mean?”
“My guess? It’s code for do what we say, or we’ll find someone who will,” Rand said.
Myra leaned forward. “Any names thrown around?” she asked Cade.
He shook his head. “Unfortunately, no. Not that I caught anyway. Just whispers. But I’d bet a round of shots one of them rhymes with lawn handyman.”
Rand laughed. “Subtle.”
My jaw clenched. “Careful. That’s my brother you’re alluding to.”
The room went quiet.
River blinked. “Your brother?”
“Sean. He was on the board. Oversaw a lot of the personnel reviews back then. Doesn’t mean anything. And he wouldn’t have become the district attorney if he had any skeletons like that in his closet.”
“Doesn’t mean anything?” River echoed. “Sure. Just like it didn’t mean anything when he was ADA and had my dad’s badge stripped.”
“That’s not fair. He—”
“Not fair?” Her voice cracked. “You two got to walk away from that unscathed. My family didn’t.”
“River—” Libby soothed.
“No,” she snapped, whipping her hand through the air, her eyes glassy. “You want to follow evidence, Sheriff? Maybe start with who had the most to lose.”
My heart pounded. I looked at her. Really looked at her. And saw the wreckage I’d helped cause. Even if none of it was intentional. Even if I was only doing my job.
The lump in my throat felt like a boulder. “I never wanted to hurt you,” I said, the truth of the statement cutting on its way out.
“You didn’t have to want it. You just had to do it. Ignore me. And you did that perfectly.” The bitterness in her tone was like acid.
And the silence that followed was deafening, heavy. Final.
I wasn’t sure anyone was breathing.
Libby cleared her throat. “Okay. Um… Maybe we table personal grievances for now, yeah? And focus on the teacher who still doesn’t have justice.”
Everyone nodded slowly, but the discomfort in the room was palpable. No one looked at one another. Everyone found something, somewhere, endlessly fascinating.
I sat back in my chair, every muscle tight, and knew one thing for certain.
This case would likely rip open every wound I thought had healed.
And all because of River Bennett. She was the scalpel.
A couple of hours later, multiple theories had been tossed around, tasks were divvied, and the side war between River and me had cooled to a simmer. We’d demolished the pizza we ordered, but the whiskey still flowed. I hadn’t even noticed the bottle when Atlas arrived.
Libby checked her phone and nudged the tablet forward. “Eryn’s on. Behave.”
“I make no promises,” Cade muttered, peeling the label off his beer. “She still hates me.”
“She doesn’t hate you,” Autumn said, sounding a bit unsure.
The screen lit up, and Eryn Sutton appeared, monochrome lab, pale-green tile, chaos in order.
Her black hair was in a functional bun with a messy edge, and a silver cartilage cuff glinted beside jet-black eyeliner.
She wore a fitted black lab coat with metal-tipped collar pins and the don’t-fuck-with-me energy of someone who’d seen your insides and judged them unworthy.
“Evening,” she said. Flat. Crisp. Controlled. “Nice to see you all surviving.”
“Just barely,” Libby said. “We’re deep into Jenkins. Thought we’d clue you in.”
“Nothing says leisure like a probable homicide and a missing file trail. Even if you don’t have what I need—i.e., a body,” she deadpanned.
Then her gaze landed on Cade. “You look like hell.”
“Thanks, Sutton. I live to be negged by women with scalpels.”
“Don’t flatter yourself. Plus, I’ve upgraded to bone saws.”
Laughter and some choking rose around the table, and Cade grinned.
Libby gestured wildly. “Oh! River Bennett, meet Eryn Sutton. River’s our new profiling lead, and my best friend from high school. She just moved back to Maple Ridge and opened a psych practice.”
Eryn looked at River, and Libby continued. “Eryn’s our bones girl. Forensic anthropologist. Hence the body snark.”
River leaned in. “Very nice to meet you.”
Eryn blinked. “Wait. Bennett? As in…?” Her face lit up slightly. “I read your piece in the Journal of Forensic Psychiatry. Trauma responses in adolescent offenders. It was excellent.”
River laughed softly. “I didn’t think anyone actually read those.”
“I do. Did. Whatever.” She shook her head and let out a small laugh. “I even underlined things.”
River’s answering smile was genuine. And I saw it. Felt it.
“Well. Thanks.” A faint blush creeped up River’s neck and flooded her cheeks. I remembered when I used to—
Get it together, Callahan!
“You’re welcome,” Eryn said, her voice warmer than I’d heard it in a while.
Libby clapped. “Okay, now that we’re all besties…”
I leaned forward. “You remember Jenkins, E?”
Eryn nodded. “Vaguely. I was fifteen, but my dad worked the case. Said it stank. Never gave details.” Her face flickered. “Said someone might be listening.”
“Eryn’s dad disappeared, too,” Autumn added softly for River’s benefit.
“He was a decorated cop,” Atlas said.
“There’s no proof that anything happened. Everybody just thinks he took off to start over somewhere. But not knowing…” Eryn shook her head.
“I’m really sorry, Eryn.” The empathy fairly poured off River.
Eryn nodded. “I’ll recheck his files. I know there were some notes and clippings. If I find anything with teeth, I’ll let you know.”
“Do you remember his theory at all?” I asked.
“I remember he said it wasn’t about Eleanor. Said she found something big.”
“Big like…?” River pressed.
“I don’t speculate without data.” Eryn’s tone was final. “You get me decay rates, reconstructions, photos… Then, I can help. Until then, you’re the boots. I’ll dig.”
There was a long pause.
“You always were good at saying a lot while actually saying nothing,” Cade muttered.
Eryn raised a brow. “And you were always good at pretending you understood me.”
River looked between them. “Um… Should we give you two some space?”
“Please don’t,” Eryn and Cade said at the same time.
Libby cleared her throat. “It’s like a romantic reality show around here tonight,” she mumbled, then straightened in her chair. “Okay. We’ve all got our tasks. We’ll loop you in as soon as we know more, Eryn.”
“If you trip over any bones, call me first. Not the sheriff.” She threw me a wink.
“That’s a promise I can make,” River said.
“All right. Goodnight, then.” The screen went dark.
Silence reigned.
“She weirdly terrifies me,” Nivea said with a nervous chuckle. “But in, like, a really competent way. And I just can’t help but like her.”
“She’s brilliant,” Autumn added, sounding almost dreamy.
“And she’s definitely still into Cade,” Rand said under his breath, shooting Autumn a pointed look.
“Oh, shut it,” Cade muttered. But he was smiling.