Chapter Seven
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Kincade stood at the stove, flipping eggs in a skillet as the coffee brewed behind him. The aroma that filled Cassidy’s kitchen was warm and grounding. Welcome sensations, considering the hell they’d gone through the day before.
Because this day might lend itself to another round of that hell, he was already dressed in jeans and a lightweight black jacket, boots. His head still ached, but the pain meds were holding steady.
He hadn’t slept much in the guest room despite the comfortable bed. The adrenaline from Travis’s call was still running hot in his blood. They were finally going to see him.
Assuming nothing went wrong.
He set two plates on the counter just as the soft padding of bare feet hit the hardwood.
Cassidy.
She stepped into the kitchen in jeans and a simple fitted top, her damp hair curling slightly at the ends, still wet from the shower.
Drops of water clung to her neck and collarbone, catching the soft morning light.
She moved with that effortless confidence that always managed to throw him a little off balance as if she didn’t realize the effect she had on him.
Or maybe she did.
Either way, every muscle in his body responded.
“Smells good,” she said, reaching for a mug and pouring herself coffee. “Though I thought you were more of a tactical rations guy.”
He handed her a plate. “Even those guys like a hot breakfast once in a while.”
She smirked, took the plate, and slid onto the stool at the kitchen island. And his body noticed that, too. Noticed the way those clothes hugged way too many interesting parts of her, how that wet hair framed her face.
Focus.
They had bigger things to deal with.
Kincade took the stool across from her and sipped his coffee. “Ruby’s already got a drone in the air over the meeting site. Actually, she deployed decoys, too. Other drones flying over random spots across the county. Just in case someone’s monitoring Maverick Ops flight patterns.”
Cassidy nodded slowly, chewing her first bite. “Smart.”
“She’s good at what she does.”
“So are you,” Cassidy said, her tone quieter now.
Their eyes locked for a second. Too long.
The heat was still there, just beneath the surface, but it had nowhere to go. Not yet. Not with everything riding on this morning.
Kincade broke the stare first, standing to refill his mug. “Eat up,” he said. “If this goes sideways, we’re going to need more than coffee.”
Cassidy exhaled and went back to her food. But neither of them was thinking about breakfast. They were thinking about ten o’clock.
And what Travis and they might be walking into.
Kincade had just finished the last bite of his eggs when his phone buzzed on the table beside him. Jericho. He hit speaker and set the phone between them.
“Morning, sunshine,” Jericho said. “Hope you two slept better than I did.”
Cassidy smirked faintly into her coffee.
“Update?” Kincade asked, cutting to the point. He’d briefed Jericho the night before about the meeting with Travis.
“Yeah. I’m heading out to the old drive-in now. I’ll scout the area but will stay out of sight in case we get any surprise visitors or the meeting turns to shit.”
“Appreciate it,” Kincade said.
“Also, I pulled Marlene Lang’s phone records,” Jericho went on. “Took a little creativity since she’s not flagged as a person of interest, yet, but I got what I needed.”
Cassidy leaned in, alert. “And?”
“There are multiple texts from burner numbers over the last few days,” Jericho continued.
“Untraceable, but the timestamps line up with what she told you. First message came in the night her mom supposedly disappeared. Then more follow-ups, short and vague. Most recent one was that cryptic ‘she’ll be released soon’ message. ”
Kincade glanced at Cassidy.
Jericho’s voice came back through, drier now. “Of course… there’s always the chance she’s sending them to herself.”
Cassidy’s brow lifted, but Kincade didn’t flinch. He’d briefed Jericho last night, told him about the trash can, Marlene’s steady demeanor, and the way she never quite looked panicked enough.
The theory didn’t surprise him.
“She’s either following orders,” Jericho went on, “or she’s staging a hell of a performance.”
“She’s still a suspect,” Kincade added. “Until proven otherwise.”
“Agreed.” There was a pause on the line before Jericho spoke again, his tone shifting. “I had the tech team do a deep dive on Marlene, too. Wanted to know who we’re really dealing with.”
Kincade leaned forward slightly, his attention sharpening. Cassidy did the same, her mug forgotten in her hands.
“Marlene’s had a rough history with her mother,” Jericho continued.
“There’s no official record of abuse, but plenty of indicators.
Marlene left home at seventeen. Lived with an aunt for a while, then did a short stint in the Army before getting out and becoming a cop.
She and her mom didn’t talk much, not until a couple of years ago when her mother had some health scares.
Even then, it seems to be more obligation than affection. ”
Kincade let that settle, the pieces clicking into place. “So if her mother really was taken, Marlene wouldn’t exactly fall apart over it.”
“Right,” Jericho agreed. “She’s not cold, just… detached.”
Cassidy frowned, her voice quiet. “Or she’s not detached. She’s involved.”
Kincade made a quick sound of agreement. “It’s possible. If Marlene’s the one orchestrating all of this, she could be using the idea of her mother’s abduction as cover. Playing the victim so no one believes she’s guilty.”
“Exactly,” Jericho said. “We can’t rule her out.” There was a soft rustle on the other end of the line before Jericho spoke again. “One more thing. I got an update from the fire team Ruby sent in. Thought you’d want to hear it.”
Kincade straightened. “Go on.”
“They confirmed it was arson. No surprise there. Accelerant was used in multiple places throughout the house. But here’s the thing. None of it was poured in the part of the house where you said you were.”
Cassidy’s head whipped up. That had clearly gotten her attention. It’d gotten Kincade’s, too.
“Could have been an oversight,” Jericho speculated. “Maybe the guy thought the fire would spread better than it did. Or maybe they didn’t want to risk killing you. Not right away.”
Kincade stared at the floor, gears turning. “So I wasn’t supposed to die in that fire,” he said.
“Doesn’t look like it,” Jericho replied. “The accelerant was only near the back hallway and in the kitchen. Nothing near the room where you were. It’s like they wanted it to smoke you out, or incapacitate you but not burn you alive.”
Cassidy gave him a look, uneasy. “Or trap you long enough for someone to finish the job once you got outside.”
Kincade nodded slowly. That scenario felt a little too possible. The gunshots, the chaos, Marlene running. Maybe that was the plan all along. Create a distraction, divide them, make someone vulnerable.
“We’ll be at the drive-in in about forty minutes,” Kincade told Jericho. He stood, grabbing his empty plate.
“That’s almost an hour ahead of schedule,” Jericho replied. “Good. Gives us room to work. I’m on my way now.”
Yeah, Kincade wanted that room to work, time to assess the location. “See you there,” he added, and the line clicked off.
He set his plate in the sink as Cassidy finished the last of her coffee.
They moved around the kitchen quietly, with the rhythm between them seeming sort of natural.
Well, natural with a crackle of lust and concern tossed in.
He grabbed the dishtowel while she stacked plates.
It wasn’t much, but it felt normal for a moment.
Then the sound of tires crunching over gravel broke the sliver of calm.
Kincade froze, his body tensing. Cassidy stilled, too, her gaze snapping toward the front of the house.
They didn’t speak. Both moved in sync, reaching for their weapons. Kincade took the lead, crossing the front room in quick strides. Cassidy flanked him, silent and focused. He edged the curtain back just enough to get a look.
And cursed under his breath.
“Of course,” Cassidy muttered beside him.
A sheriff’s department SUV sat in her driveway, dust still swirling around its tires. Behind it, a silver town car rolled to a stop.
Her boss, Sheriff Moran, stepped out of the SUV, calm as ever in his neatly pressed uniform. And behind him, dressed in his usual smug authority, stood Mayor Vance Harlan.
Kincade didn’t holster his weapon. Neither did Cassidy. They kept their guns low at their sides, out of view from the street but ready if this turned into something more than a visit.
Cassidy moved to the alarm panel, punched in the code, and unlocked the front door. She pulled it open slowly, her stance casual, but her voice steady.
“Didn’t expect visitors this early,” she greeted.
Moran stood a few feet back, his expression unreadable but pinched at the corners. Troubled, maybe. Or guilty. Kincade couldn’t tell which.
The mayor didn’t hesitate. “It’s never too early to catch my brother’s killer.” He stepped forward, eyes sweeping the entryway, then settling on Cassidy. “We’d like to search your house. See if you’re harboring your brother.”
Kincade felt Cassidy go still beside him.
Moran exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. He didn’t look thrilled to be here. But that could’ve been a carefully crafted show.
Cassidy kept her tone even. “Do you have a warrant?”
Vance’s lips curled in a faint smirk. “As a sworn deputy of Blanco Pass, you should be willing to uphold the law, Deputy Prescott. Not stand in its way.”
Sheriff Moran shifted his weight, finally speaking. “Cass… it would be better if you just cooperated. If you don’t, there’ll be a warrant soon enough.”
Kincade stepped closer to Cassidy’s side, his eyes on both men. This wasn’t a request. It was a threat, dressed up in official language and forced smiles.