Chapter 12
Although several days passed without incident, Heather didn’t let down her guard.
Lyle was right in his assessment of Bret.
Her ex was a coward who liked to hide behind others so he wouldn’t get his hands dirty.
And although she didn’t have proof, her gut instinct told her he was involved.
She could handle the likes of Darren Richards.
But Bret was another matter. The thought of him appearing in her life again triggered the vulnerable, fearful emotions she’d spent the past year trying to heal.
And the timing was ironic. Just when she’d started to feel like she could move forward, possibly entertain a relationship with another man, she was forced to relive everything she’d done wrong in the past and reminded of the vows she’d made because of that.
To only rely on herself and never be vulnerable to a man again.
Even though it was wrong to lump Lyle into the same category as Bret, firmly entrenched scars kept rearing up, making her worry and doubt, reminding her to proceed with caution.
A gentle breeze filtered through the trees as late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the verdant paddocks where a couple of the cowboys were turning out the trail horses for the evening. Lyle had been away most of the day on an emergency call at the Carson’s ranch who had a mare in distress.
So much for caution, she thought. She’d known the exact moment he’d left the ranch and had watched for him practically every minute until he’d returned a few minutes ago and disappeared into the house. She was worse than a love-struck teen.
She whistled for Holly and Scout who had adapted to their new training area without a hitch.
The puppies, on the other hand, not so much.
Smiling, she scooped up Pepper as the little terrier broke out of her ‘sit’ command to pounce on a grasshopper.
“Silly girl. You’re going to be a pistol to train, aren’t you? ”
In answer, Pepper gave a quick lick to Heather’s face and vibrated her whole little body in a happy wag. “We’ve got new clients coming tomorrow, Pepper, so you better put on your listening ears if you want off lease privileges.”
She'd spent the better part of the day moving the rest of her scheduled client sessions to the main ranch property, explaining the situation as simply as possible without causing alarm.
Most of her clients had been understanding, even supportive, and a few had offered to help in whatever way they could.
The sense of community still amazed her.
"Miss Heather!" Charlotte's voice carried across the yard as she ran toward the training area, Pudge trotting dutifully behind her. "Uncle Mike says supper's almost ready!"
Heather glanced at her watch, surprised by how quickly the day had passed. "Okay, sweetie. Let me just get everyone settled for the night."
"Can I help?"
"Of course. Why don't you get Pepper and Sherry’s evening meal ready while I settle Holly and Scout?"
Charlotte beamed, clearly pleased with the responsibility. As she carefully measured out the puppy food, Heather couldn't help but marvel at how naturally the little girl had taken to caring for the animals. It was as though each furry creature helped heal a small piece of her grief.
"There's a black truck coming in the driveway," Charlotte said suddenly, peering out the barn window. "Is that the bad man?"
Heather's heart rate kicked up, but before she could respond, Kenny materialized in the doorway, his hand resting casually on his concealed weapon. The man was like an invisible ninja!
"It's just the FBI agents Joe called," he said, his voice steady. "They're here to talk to you."
Heather nodded, grateful for Kenny's constant vigilance. She'd noticed how the brothers had organized an informal security rotation, making sure someone was always nearby without making it obvious.
"Charlotte, why don't you take Pudge and go find Uncle Mike?" Kenny suggested. "He could probably use some help setting the table."
Charlotte looked between them, her young face serious. “Miss Heather will be safe, right?"
"Promise," Kenny said, and something in his tone made Heather believe him completely.
As Charlotte disappeared toward the back of the house, Kenny turned to Heather. "Ready?"
She took a deep breath, squaring her shoulders. "As I'll ever be."
They walked together to the main house, where two agents in dark suits were already seated in the living room with Joe and Lyle. The female agent stood as they entered, extending her hand.
"Ms. Prescott? I'm Agent Sarah Martinez, and this is Agent Thompson. We'd like to talk to you about Darren Richards and Bret McGowen."
"Of course." Heather settled on the sectional sofa, acutely aware of Lyle's steady presence beside her. The warmth of his thigh pressing against hers gave her a sense of calm. "Where should we start?"
"From the beginning," Agent Martinez said, pulling out a notebook. "Tell us about your first interaction with Mr. Richards."
For the next hour, Heather recounted everything, from Richards' initial visit and subsequent pressure tactics to the competing bid on the property, the unlocked door and the escalating threats.
She described Bret's past behavior, the abuse she'd endured, and the suspicious appearances of the red truck.
She’d spent nearly eight years guarding the ugly details of her life and marriage, and now in the past few days she’d recounted every awful event in front of law enforcement, FBI agents and four very virile, protective men, one of whom she might well be in love with.
"And you're certain it was your ex-husband's vehicle?" Agent Thompson asked.
"No," Heather admitted. "But it was the same make and model. And the timing..."
"We understand," Agent Martinez said. "Mr. Watkins here has provided us with extensive documentation about Richards' business practices and his connection to your ex-husband. It's quite impressive research."
Joe shrugged. "I'm good with computers."
"Very good," Agent Thompson agreed. "Good enough to uncover a pattern of harassment and fraud that spans several states. We've been building a case against Richards for months, but this connection to Mr. McGowen adds a new dimension."
"What do you mean?" Heather asked.
The agents exchanged a look before Martinez continued.
"We believe Richards has been using his business ventures as cover for something larger.
The property acquisitions, the pressure tactics against small business owners.
It's all part of a money laundering operation.
And your ex-husband's engineering firm appears to be involved. "
"Money laundering?" Lyle leaned forward. "For what?"
"We're still piecing that together," Thompson said. "But we believe it involves international contracts and some questionable overseas investments. The harassment of former spouses appears to be a sort of... insurance policy. Keeping people quiet through intimidation."
Heather felt sick. "So this isn't just about my business?"
"No," Martinez said gently. "We think your ex-husband may have shared sensitive information with you during your marriage—information you might not even realize you have.
The pressure to sell your business, the property interference...
it's likely an attempt to maintain control and keep you isolated. "
Heather remembered going through Bret’s files and his desk, which she’d had to break into.
She’d been looking for evidence of extra marital affaires, not money laundering.
Bret barely shared the weather with her, much less sensitive information.
But would he think she’d found something incriminating in her search other than secret vasectomies and lurid hotel retreats with other women?
"Why now?" Kenny asked from his position near the door. "Heather's been divorced for over a year."
"Because she's making a name for herself," Joe answered before the agents could respond.
"The articles I found, the industry recognition.
She's becoming too visible, too successful.
They can't control what they can't contain. Plus, there’s the revenge angle.
Bret wants Heather to suffer, both emotionally and financially. "
"Exactly," Martinez confirmed. "And now that we know about the connection between Richards and McGowen, we can move more aggressively. But we need your help, Ms. Prescott."
Heather straightened in her chair. "What kind of help?"
"We'd like you to continue negotiations with Richards," Thompson said. "Make him think you're considering his offer. Meanwhile, we'll monitor his activities and gather evidence of their operation."
"You want to use her as bait?" Lyle's voice was sharp with concern.
"With full protection," Martinez assured them. "We'll have agents nearby at all times, and we'll coordinate with local law enforcement."
"I'll do it," Heather said firmly, before anyone could protest. "If it helps to stop them from harassing me and anyone else, I'll do whatever you need."
Lyle's hand found hers, squeezing gently. "Then we'll all help. Whatever it takes."
The agents spent another hour going over details and safety protocols before finally standing to leave. As they reached the door, Martinez turned back.
"One more thing," she said. "We'd like to put surveillance on the property you're trying to buy. There's a good chance they'll try to use it to force a meeting."
"Of course," Heather agreed. “But that’s not up to me. I imagine you’ll have to clear it with the realtor and the homeowner’s heirs.”
“Already one step ahead of you.”
The agents left and they all moved into the kitchen.
Through the window, Heather could see Charlotte playing with the dogs in the last rays of sunlight, her laughter carrying faintly through the glass.
Mike was putting the finishing touches on supper but was clearly keeping an eagle eye on the little girl.
"You okay?" Lyle asked quietly.