Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
“Start talking.” Mia’s voice was deadly calm, but Zeke could see the storm brewing in her dark eyes. “Right now.”
He took a breath, knowing this moment would define everything between them. “The woman who came into your shop last week—the one who sold you the music box—her name was Tina Wolfe. She was my informant.”
Mia went very still. “Your informant.”
“She was the old lady for Wild Bill Jones, president of the Vaqueros. She wanted out of that life badly enough to steal evidence from him—a formula for a new amphetamine. It was hidden in that music box.” He watched her face, saw her processing, putting pieces together.
“I told her to bring it to you. Someone I could trust to keep it safe.”
“You used me.” The words were flat. “You used my shop as a drop point without telling me.”
“I was trying to protect you—”
“By keeping me in the dark?” Her laugh was bitter. “How well did that work, Zeke? My shop got destroyed. I’ve had bikers threatening me. I’ve been looking over my shoulder for a week not knowing why any of this was happening. You call that protection?”
“Mia—”
“And Blaze knew.” Her eyes flashed. “Your partner Wyatt knew. Everyone knew except me. The person actually in danger.”
The sirens were directly outside now. Zeke moved to the window, checking the parking lot. Three sheriff’s vehicles, officers deploying with the efficiency of a well-trained unit. Blaze emerged from the lead vehicle, already scanning the building.
“They’re here to secure the perimeter,” Zeke said. “The Vaqueros have been watching your shop. If Tina told them where the music box is—”
“If she’s even still alive to tell them anything.” Mia’s voice cracked slightly on the last word, and he saw the cop in her warring with the anger. “How long has she been missing?”
“Four days. She missed her first checkpoint. I’ve been searching, coordinating with Blaze, trying to find her before—” He couldn’t finish the sentence.
“Before they killed her for helping you.” Mia sank onto the couch, her anger giving way to something worse—resignation. “This is what you do, Zeke. You pull people into your operations, make them promises, and then they end up dead or broken or—”
A sharp knock on the door cut her off. “It’s Blaze.”
Zeke opened the door, and Blaze entered with the controlled urgency of a man running multiple scenarios in his head. “Perimeter’s secure. I’ve got units on every entrance. What’s the situation?”
“Tina called me ten minutes ago,” Zeke said. “They have her. The call cut off, but I heard male voices, sounds of a struggle.”
“I’ve got tech running the trace now.” Blaze’s eyes moved to Mia. “You okay?”
“Define okay.” She stood, wrapping her arms around herself. “I’ve just found out I’ve been bait in a federal operation I knew nothing about. But sure, I’m fantastic.”
Blaze winced. “For what it’s worth, I pushed him to tell you. Multiple times.”
“Not hard enough, apparently.”
“Mia—” Zeke started.
“Don’t.” She held up a hand. “I need air. I need space to think.”
“You can’t leave,” Zeke said. “Not until we know—”
“I’m not going anywhere.” Her eyes met his, and the hurt there cut deeper than any blade. “I’ll stay here where it’s safe, like a good little civilian who doesn’t need to know what’s happening in her own life. But right now, I can’t look at you.”
She disappeared into the bedroom, the door closing with a quiet click that somehow felt worse than if she’d slammed it.
Blaze let out a low breath. “That went well.”
“She has every right to be angry.”
“Yeah, she does.” Blaze moved to the window, checking the street below. “We got word back from the checkpoints. No sign of Tina at any of them. She either went to ground voluntarily or they grabbed her before she could make the first one.”
“She wouldn’t go dark voluntarily. Not after taking that risk.” Zeke’s phone buzzed—tech team from the field office. He answered. “Talk to me.”
“We traced the call. Cell tower puts it somewhere in the Sawtooth National Forest, east of Laurel Valley. But that’s a lot of ground to cover—we’re talking hundreds of square miles.”
“Send me the coordinates. I’ll coordinate with Sheriff O’Hara for search patterns.” He ended the call and looked at Blaze. “They’ve got her somewhere in the Sawtooths.”
“That’s Vaqueros territory. They’ve got half a dozen cabins up there they use for cooking operations.” Blaze pulled out his phone. “I’ll get my deputies organized, coordinate with Forest Service. But night search in those mountains—it’s dangerous. We’ll have better luck waiting for first light.”
“She might not have until first light.”
“I know.” Blaze’s expression was grim. “But getting our people killed trying to search in the dark won’t help her either. We go in smart, we go in prepared, and we go at dawn.”
Zeke wanted to argue, wanted to grab a truck and head into those mountains right now. But Blaze was right. A night search in unfamiliar terrain with hostile targets was a recipe for disaster.
“Dawn,” he agreed reluctantly. “But I want everything ready to roll the second there’s enough light.”
“Already on it.” Blaze headed for the door. “I’ll keep units here overnight. You watch her. And Zeke? Fix this. That woman deserves better than secrets and half truths.”
After Blaze left, Zeke stood in the quiet apartment, staring at Mia’s closed bedroom door. He could hear her moving around in there, probably pacing, probably running through every interaction they’d had over the past week and reanalyzing it through this new lens of betrayal.
He’d done it again. Chosen the operation over honesty. Told himself it was to protect her when really it was just easier to keep her in the dark than to trust her with the truth.
Some things never changed.
Except this time, he couldn’t walk away. This time, he had to find a way to make it right.
* * *
Two days later, the first snow of the season began to fall over Laurel Valley.
They still hadn’t found Tina. Search teams had combed through the Sawtooths, checking every known Vaqueros location, every abandoned cabin, every possible hiding spot. They’d found evidence of recent activity—tire tracks, cigarette butts, signs of a camp hastily abandoned—but no Tina.
The silence from her was deafening.
Mia had been civil but distant, going through the motions of normalcy while maintaining a careful wall between them.
She’d reopened the shop. She’d thanked the community for their help.
She’d even let him continue staying at her apartment, though now he actually did sleep on the couch, the space between them feeling like miles instead of feet.
He was losing her. Again. And this time he wasn’t sure how to stop it.
“You need to eat something,” he said, watching her push food around her plate at the breakfast table. “You’ve barely eaten anything all day.”
“I’m fine.”
“Mia—”
“What do you want me to say, Zeke? That I understand why you lied to me? That I’m okay with being used as a pawn in your operation? That I forgive you for putting me in danger without even giving me the courtesy of knowing why?”
“I want you to let me make it right.”
“How?” She laughed, but there was no humor in it. “Tina Wolfe is probably dead because she trusted you. Because you convinced her to risk her life for your case. And now I’m supposed to trust that you won’t do the same thing to me?”
The accusation stung because it was true. He had asked Tina to risk everything. He had used Mia’s shop without her knowledge. He had kept secrets that put her in danger.
He was exactly the man she was accusing him of being.
“I filed my retirement paperwork,” he said quietly. “Three days ago. It’s official. After this case closes, I’m done with undercover work. Done with operations. I’m taking the police chief job in Riverton.”
She studied him, searching for something in his face.
“You told me that before. Three years ago, you told me you were getting out. That you’d take an administrative position, that we’d have a normal life.
And then another case came up. And another.
And you couldn’t walk away because there was always one more bad guy to catch, one more operation to close. ”
“This time is different.”
“Why?” The question was simple, devastating. “Because you almost got me killed? Because you’re losing me? Those aren’t reasons to change your life, Zeke. Those are just more guilt to add to the pile you’re already carrying.”
He didn’t have an answer for that. Because she was right. He’d been carrying guilt for years—for informants who’d died, for cases that had cost good people their lives, for choosing the job over the woman he loved time and time again.
Maybe he didn’t know how to be anything else.
“Come with me,” he said suddenly. “Downtown. Take a walk with me.”
“Zeke—”
“Please.” He stood, holding out his hand. “Just an hour. Let me show you something.”
She looked at his hand for a long moment, and he could see her weighing whether to trust him one more time. Finally, she took it.
“One hour,” she said.
They bundled against the cold—November had arrived with teeth, bringing temperatures that hinted at the winter to come. The snow had started falling an hour ago, fat lazy flakes that drifted down like nature’s confetti, transforming Laurel Valley into something out of a postcard.
Zeke drove them to the public parking area, the lot already dusted white. When they emerged from the truck, the cold hit sharp and clean, the kind that made your lungs ache in a way that felt almost good.
“This way,” he said, offering his arm.
She hesitated, then took it.
The walk into downtown was quieter than usual—the early snow had kept most tourists away, leaving the streets to locals who knew how to navigate cobblestones in winter. Their boots crunched against the fresh powder, leaving parallel tracks behind them.