Chapter 4 #2
"I want you to decide if she's worth protecting.
If her investigation can help us dismantle the network that killed Tom Rearden and used this community as cover for trafficking.
" Zeke straightens from the toolbox. "We have resources we can funnel through you if needed.
Information, equipment, backup if things go sideways.
But we need confirmation that she's legitimate before we commit. "
"And if she's not?"
"Then you walk away and let us handle it." Zeke's tone leaves no room for negotiation. "But I don't think that's how this plays out."
Neither do I. Cara's too methodical, too committed, too willing to risk everything for a case she can't prosecute from outside the system. That's not the behavior of someone guilty. That's the behavior of someone who knows the truth and refuses to let it die with Tom.
"I'm picking her up at the lodge at seven," I say. "She's bringing everything she has. Three years of investigation, evidence she hasn't shared with anyone."
"Good." Zeke heads toward the bay entrance, then pauses. "Finn. Be careful with this. Whoever framed her has resources and reach we're still trying to map. They've already killed one agent and destroyed another's career. They won't hesitate to eliminate threats."
"Understood."
He leaves, and I finish cleaning up the tools before closing the bay door. The truck starts on the first try, engine running smooth with the new belt. My phone buzzes with a text from Raymond:
Judith's asking for you. Something about the coffee maker you fixed last month.
Type back:
On my way.
It isn’t a quick trip, but if Raymond is asking, Judith must be having a rough spell.
I pull up to the Kowalskis' place. Raymond meets me at the door, his shoulders dropping with relief when he sees me.
"She's been agitated all afternoon," he says quietly. "Keeps saying the coffee maker is broken. I've tried showing her it's fine, but she doesn't remember." His voice cracks slightly on the last word.
Judith sits at the kitchen table, hands folded, expression lost. When I enter, her eyes clear for a moment.
"Finn. You came."
"Always do when you need me."
Moving to the coffee maker, I make a show of inspecting it, adjusting the settings that don't need adjustment and checking the connections that are already secure. This gives Judith something concrete to focus on while her mind struggles with reality that shifts like sand.
Raymond watches from the doorway, grateful for the small kindnesses that cost me nothing but time.
"There we go," I say finally. "Should be working perfectly now."
Judith smiles, relief smoothing the worry from her face. "Thank you, dear. I don't know what I'd do without you."
"You'll never have to find out." I squeeze her hand gently before turning to leave.
Raymond walks me out, exhaustion lining his face. "I don't know how much longer I can do this alone."
I've never heard him sound this defeated. Raymond's always been the steady one, the homesteader who handles everything thrown at him with quiet competence. Seeing him this worn down, this close to breaking, reminds me how much dementia takes from everyone it touches.
"You're not alone. You’ve got this whole community in your corner." The words are automatic, repeated so often they've become reflex. But they're true. This is what we do here. We show up. We help. We make sure no one falls through the cracks.
Raymond nods, but the exhaustion doesn't leave his eyes. "I keep thinking about what happens when I can't do this anymore. When she needs more care than I can give her here. There aren't facilities equipped for this kind of thing within two hundred miles."
"We'll figure it out when the time comes," I say, knowing the promise is easier to make than keep. Although Glacier Hollow takes care of its own, there are limits to what a small community can provide. "You're not there yet. And when you are, you won't be facing it alone."
He manages a tired smile. "Thanks, Finn. For everything. For always coming when she needs you."
It's why helping Cara expose whoever's using this place as cover for trafficking matters. Raymond and Judith deserve better than being unwitting accessories to the kind of operation that got Tom killed.
Driving home as dusk settles over the valley, I watch the light fade.
My cabin sits two miles outside town. I built it myself over one long summer, using salvaged materials and sheer stubbornness to create something functional.
One bedroom, main living area with a wood stove, kitchen barely big enough for one person. Exactly what I need.
Building a fire, I watch flames catch and spread through kindling. Heat fills the space, pushing back the cold that seeps through a few gaps in the insulation I'll patch before real winter arrives. Coffee brews while I clear the table, making room for whatever evidence Cara brings tonight.
She's been running alone since Stormwatch destroyed her career. Building a case no one believed, trusting no one, surviving on skills that should have made her an asset to the FBI but instead made her a target.
Tonight she gets what she hasn't had in three years: someone who believes her. Someone with resources to help. Someone who knows these mountains and routes well enough to turn her evidence into action.
Snow begins to fall outside, fat flakes drifting past the window. The roads will be treacherous by morning. Winter locks down the backcountry fast in Alaska, turns routine supply runs into survival challenges. Cara picked a hell of a time to conduct an investigation in terrain she doesn't know.
I check my watch. I’ve still got time until I pick her up—time to decide exactly how much of Zeke's offer to share with her, how far I'm willing to go, whether I trust her enough to reveal that the task force knows who she is and wants to help.
The decision should be simple. Zeke's offering resources, backup, a way to turn Cara's evidence into action that could actually dismantle the trafficking network. Information she needs to stay alive and finish what Tom started.
But telling her means revealing that the local sheriff knows who she is.
That Zeke's been monitoring the anonymous tips she's been sending to Whitewater Junction.
That he showed up today asking me to work with her because they've been watching her movements and suspect she's the source of their best intel.
Three years of running alone has taught her not to trust anyone, especially not people in law enforcement. Even people claiming they want to help. She's survived this long by staying invisible, staying off everyone's radar, never letting anyone get close enough to betray her.
Now I'm asking her to trust that the sheriff who's been tracking her movements actually believes she's innocent. To believe that we won't use her evidence to build a case against her instead of the traffickers she's hunting.
From her perspective, that's a hell of a lot to ask.
But keeping Zeke's involvement secret feels like another kind of betrayal.
She's bringing everything she has tonight because she trusts me.
Because I looked at her evidence and believed her story when no one else did.
Starting this partnership with lies about who else knows she's here seems like a terrible foundation.
I need to think this through properly. A few minutes later, the machine gurgles, finishing its cycle.
I pour a cup and settle into the chair by the window, watching snow accumulate on the ground.
Somewhere out there, traffickers are using my routes, my community, the trust people like Raymond and Judith place in outsiders.
Using isolation and good intentions as cover for operations that got Tom killed.
When I lost my career and thought I'd lost my purpose. Turned out I was wrong. Purpose isn't about the uniform you wear or the missions you fly. It's about the people you protect and the stands you take when it matters.
Cara's been taking that stand alone for three years, with everything stacked against her.
Tonight she's trusting me with evidence that could vindicate her or get her killed.
She doesn't belong in Glacier Hollow any more than I belong behind a desk.
But she's here, hunting the same network that murdered a good agent and framed her for crimes she didn't commit.
The question is whether she'll accept help when it comes from someone she just met, or if survival instincts honed by years of running will make her bolt the moment she realizes she's not as alone as she thought.