Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
Finn
The second I pulled up to the clinic and saw the busted glass glittering like frost on the sidewalk, something in my chest locked up.
River stood just beyond the shattered window, her back to me, talking to Libby and Autumn. Her posture was stiff. Controlled. But I knew enough about trauma to recognize what simmered just beneath the surface. Shock, adrenaline, and about a thousand unspoken questions.
I parked haphazardly and didn’t even bother shutting the door before I crossed the street.
“You okay?” I asked the moment I reached her.
She turned slowly. When her eyes met mine, it hit me like a damn gut punch. Because behind all that strength was fear. Controlled and buried deep, but still there.
“I’ve been better,” she said, her voice hoarse.
I nodded, stepping closer but not touching her. “Anything taken?”
She shook her head. “Not that I can tell. The front window’s just...gone. Door was unlocked. My guess is that whoever did this left that way to avoid the broken glass. Nothing appears missing. I didn’t see any files disturbed.”
“Did you leave it unlocked?” She lowered her head and gave me a look that cut like a laser.
“No. Of course, not. I always double-check it. Especially after the day I arrived and found it unlocked.” She paused, her eyes scanning the wreckage. “It’s almost like someone just wanted to rattle me. Not rob me.”
I filed that tidbit away for later.
Behind her, Autumn crouched to inspect a jagged shard of glass still clinging to the frame.
Libby crossed her arms, glancing toward the street. “This doesn’t feel random.”
“I just got here,” I said. “But I agree.”
River sighed and rubbed the back of her neck. “I haven’t been back that long. No one should even care what I’m doing here. Especially not enough to vandalize my clinic.”
I hesitated. “Except maybe someone does care.”
She looked up at me sharply.
“I mean,” I continued, keeping my voice even, “maybe someone saw you asking questions. Doing research. Maybe they saw you at the Jubilee. Perhaps they connected some dots.”
“But no one knew I was digging,” she said, frowning. “Who could? The only people who know what I’m doing outside of my job and trying to rebuild my life here are you and the rest of the gang.”
Libby nodded. “And none of us would say anything. Even casually. That’s how we function in the club. It’s just understood. Sure, there can be the occasional passing mention to a significant other—if there is one—but we’ve all known those people for nearly as long as we’ve known each other.”
“And the records we’ve been looking into aren’t anything that should raise flags,” Autumn added. “It’s not like a neon arrow pointing to Eleanor’s murder. Unless someone’s got eyes in weird places, they couldn’t have even known.”
River folded her arms. “So, then, why me? And don’t take this the wrong way, but…why not one of you? Unless this isn’t connected to that at all and was drug related. Many people don’t know that psychologists aren’t MDs.”
Before anyone could answer, a car pulled up fast. Nivea, Myra, and Andra spilled out before it had even fully stopped.
“You okay?” Myra asked, storming up the walk with her trademark mix of fire and protectiveness.
“We heard the call on the scanner,” Nivea added. “We’re always monitoring. Part of our job descriptions.”
“And we got here as fast as we could,” Andra said.
River blinked, seemingly overwhelmed for a second by the sheer force of support.
Slowly, she nodded. “Yeah. I think so. Just...confused.”
“Understandable. This doesn’t really make much sense,” Nivea said, scanning the storefront. “And, I’m sure you’ve been asked this a million times already, but nothing’s missing?”
River shook her head. “No. At least, I don’t think so. Not that I could find.”
“So, likely not a robbery, then. Unless someone was looking for a prescription pad or something.”
“I thought of that, too, but I’m not a psychiatrist,” River said.
“Some people don’t know the difference,” Myra stated.
“I said the same thing,” River agreed.
The wheels were clearly still turning in Nivea’s head. “If this was about scaring you for some reason, why do it now? Why not the day you got back? Did you leave Maple Ridge with any enemies back then?” she asked.
“You mean besides him?” she said and jerked her head in my direction.
Ouch.
“You were never my enemy, River,” I said. Before she could say anything to that, I continued. “Something’s changed. Something you’ve seen has made you a target. Or something you’ve said has made you a threat.”
“I was just trying to build a damn profile,” she muttered. “For a goddamn fourteen-year-old cold case.”
Libby reached out and gently touched her arm. “I mean…we could look at this positively. Maybe you’re getting too close without realizing it.”
The others nodded in agreement.
“Close to what, though?” River asked. “I don’t feel like I’ve uncovered much of anything yet. Except some partial memories about my parents.”
Autumn put a hand on River’s shoulder. “Or—and to echo you, don’t take this the wrong way—maybe someone thinks you’re the easiest one to scare off.”
River’s jaw set. “If that’s it, then they don’t know me at all.”
My chest tightened, unexpected pride and worry tangling together. “We’ll figure this out,” I said. “But you’re not doing it alone.”
She looked at me again, and something changed in her expression. I saw the vulnerability. But I also saw the bravery.
“I know.” She nodded. But she didn’t look at me. She looked at her friends.
The girls formed a quiet perimeter around River, watching over her while I started taking photos of the damage with my phone. Forensics would do their thing, but I often took my own shots to view later. It helped me form pictures in the moment, too.
Despite the quiet of the night, somewhere in my gut, I knew this wasn’t the end of it.
It was only the beginning.
After the initial chaos at the scene died down—my deputies and forensics doing their thing, River assuring everyone she was fine, Myra checking the locks, me calling Cade to come and help board up the window, Autumn already plotting a campaign for better surveillance downtown—I took a few minutes to walk the area around the building.
Nothing about the break-in sat right. It was almost as if someone had wanted to make it appear like a break-in without actually entering at all… But why?
Once I made it back around to the front door, I crouched near the base of the shattered pane and saw it.
A faint scrape on the concrete. Like someone had dragged something.
Or perhaps they’d left something behind and then changed their mind, and moving it caused the scuff.
I looked closer. It sort of looked like a mark from a hiking boot sole.
It wasn’t much to go on—at all—but something about it scratched at the back of my brain. Call it associative thinking. Though I wasn’t sure if there actually was a connection. Still…
Mrs. Jenkins.
I stood abruptly and grabbed my phone, opening the old case notes I’d been poring over in the late hours of too many nights since we’d taken it on.
Mr. Jenkins’ statements had always felt disjointed toward the end, dismissed because of his age and declining cognition.
But one line in particular jumped out at me now:
Eleanor mentioned walking her favorite trail. Said it always felt off out there. Like something or someone was watching.
No one had prioritized that in the initial investigation.
The car had been found near a different trail; the one River and the girls had visited recently.
But there were two trails that paralleled each other out there.
I remembered now. Eleanor had preferred the less-traveled one.
Narrower. More winding. And back then, Mr. Jenkins had said it wasn’t always properly cleared.
The Parks and Rec people prioritized the others.
I turned toward River, who was still talking quietly with Libby and Autumn.
I wasn’t sure where the others were. Maybe they’d already left.
When our eyes met, I motioned her toward me.
She started over without hesitation. When I noticed the other two following, I shot her a look, and despite her initial eyebrow scrunch of confusion, she turned and spoke to them for a minute before making her way the rest of the way to me alone.
“We need to talk,” I said.
“Please tell me that means something here actually makes sense to you.”
“Maybe. When we were together, your dad used to walk one of the trails obsessively, right?”
She nodded slowly. “Almost every day. Sometimes with Harlan Whitaker. I always assumed it was for his mental health. He did love nature.”
“Which trail did he walk? Do you know?”
She frowned. “The north one, I think. The one on the other side of the old fire road, farther away from the ranger station. Nobody really used it except the townies. He said it was peaceful.”
Bingo.
I leaned in. “Mr. Jenkins mentioned that same trail. Called it Eleanor’s favorite. But he said it felt...off.”
River’s expression shifted, something dawning between realization and dread. “Wait. Are you saying my dad and Eleanor shared a connection to that place...and no one ever searched it?”
“Not thoroughly, I don’t think. At least not officially, anyway. The focus was on the other trail. The one closer to where her car was found.”
She looked past me, toward the ruined window. “What if someone wanted to keep people away from the real scene?”
That same chill from earlier crawled down my spine.
“I want to check it out,” I said quietly. “Tomorrow. First light. Want to come?”
She hesitated. “With the others?”
I shook my head. “Not yet. The more people who know, the more likely someone else finds out. If this is connected to the things we’re digging into...we can’t risk tipping our hand. Not until we know more.”
She nodded slowly. “Okay. Just us, then.”
A beat of silence stretched between us.
Then she added, her voice soft, “It feels weird, doesn’t it? I want it to be nothing, but I also kind of hope it’s something.”
I understood that feeling too well. “You’re not alone in that. I want answers. For Eleanor. For Mr. Jenkins and the rest of her family. Hell, for you. I think anyone in the group would say the same.”
She looked up at me, and for a second, all the fear and exhaustion in her expression dropped away, replaced by something raw and open.
“Thank you, Finn.”
I looked down at her, my chest tight, my heart flipping a little with surprise. “You don’t have to thank me, River. We’ve got this.” The honesty in that statement, the implied you-and-me, shocked me a bit.
Neither of us said anything else.
We didn’t have to.
But we both felt it. I knew we did.
Something had shifted.
Whether it was just that we were both coming to realize that we lived in the same town now and were part of the same things, or if it was more, remained to be seen.
As a deputy called to say they were wrapping up, and River turned to duck under the police tape and go inside, I lingered at the edge of the sidewalk, glancing once more at that faint scrape by the broken glass. My brain kept circling the same unspoken question:
What had Eleanor been afraid of out there on that trail? Was it just that old urban legend ? Was it more? Other? And why had no one listened?
Tomorrow, we’d walk it. Just River and me. No distractions. No noise.
And if the past was still waiting in those woods?
We’d be ready to meet it.