Chapter 16
By the second morning alone in the hotel room, Kara knew she couldn’t keep doing this. It was pointless. It made more sense to move into George’s house temporarily if she wanted to fast-track the packing. If Kara was really being honest with herself, there was another reason.
Staying there could give her a better chance of finding something. A file, a key, an old anything that might explain the pieces that weren't fitting together. She could finally unravel some of his secrets if she dug deep enough.
A quick Google search confirmed that the black car she saw that chilling night was, in fact, a Chevrolet Chevelle.
Kara contemplated her next move.
The most pressing questions were who had hurt Elias and who wanted him dead.
Would Reece hurt him?
Sadly,y she could imagine that could be true.
Did Reece want her to find Elias dead? As a warning to stay away?
She needed answers, and getting them was a risk she was willing to take. Kara scrolled through her contacts, landed on R, and pressed call. It rang once. Twice. Three times. Her heart pounded harder with every second that passed.
“Did George work for you?”
“No,” Reece said after a long silence.
“ Did you try to have Elias killed?
“No. Your father, this George, had friends with badges.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about your old man spending a hell of a lot of time with the law.” His voice dropped. “You should stop looking at me like the big bad guy and start asking why certain cases get closed without proper investigations.”
“They closed the case?” She hadn’t known.
“You know exactly who did it,” he said. “Go on down to the station. Ask to see the evidence log from that case. If it comes up missing, ask yourself and them why.”
That pushed Kara directly toward the police station while making Reece seem less like the obvious villain and more like someone dangerous who still knows the truth.
“Is Elias okay?”
There was a pause on the line—just long enough for her to start second-guessing.
“He is,” Reece said finally. “Bruised ego mostly. I’ll make sure he gets right.”
For a second, she almost said thank you.
Almost.
“That’s surprisingly comforting, coming from you,” Kara said.
Then Reece laughed. She’d caught him off guard. “You always did have a mouth on you,” he said before ending the call.
Elias was okay.
The dread that had been sitting in her chest since she came back loosened slightly, just enough for her to breathe.
Kara let out a slow breath, dragging a hand through her hair as she paced the length of the room.
Law enforcement.
If Reece were the person she’d always believed him to be, this would make more sense. He’d lie. Manipulate. Point her in the wrong direction just to keep her off balance.
If he was telling the truth—if even part of it was true—then she hadn’t been chasing the wrong answers. She’d been asking the wrong people.
An alarm pulled her out of her thoughts. It was time for dinner at her sister’s. Kara briefly considered canceling to dig through more boxes, chasing this feeling while it was still fervent.
Kara grabbed her keys, forcing herself to move because whatever this was, whatever she was stepping into, it could wait a couple of hours so she could see her favorite and only niece. Isabel. At least, she hoped it could.
The drive out to Zoe’s place felt like a shift in the world entirely.
By the time Kara turned off the main road, the landscape had opened up into wide stretches of land, fences cutting clean lines through green fields.
Horses moved in the distance, slow and graceful under the late light, and a few cattle dotted the far paddock.
It was quiet in a way that felt intentional—like the land itself had decided not to rush.
Zoe’s house sat tucked just off the drive, warm lights already glimmering in the windows. It wasn’t fancy, but it was beautiful in its own grounded way. The kind of place that felt lived in, safe.
The life Zoe had always deserved.
Kara stepped out of the car and just stood there for a second, taking it in.
“Wow,” she murmured. “This is actually ridiculous. In the best way.”
I can't believe—
The front door opened before she could even finish the thought. Kara’s voice went instantly soft, slipping into an exaggerated baby tone as she crossed the porch. “Ohhh, there she is—my baby girl!”
Zoe had little time to react before Kara gently but confidently snatched Isabel from her arms.
The baby immediately giggled.
Kara melted. “You are the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. You must’ve gotten your looks from your auntie, huh?”
Zoe let out a groan, rolling her eyes as she shut the door behind them. “Oh, my god.”
“What?” Kara said, still completely focused on Isabel. “It’s true.”
“Come on in,” Zoe said, laughing as she led the way down the hallway. “I made your favorite. Lasagna. Nothing fancy.”
Kara looked up from the baby just long enough to grin. “That is fancy enough for me.”
The warmth of the house wrapped around her as soon as she stepped inside—homey, lived-in, the kind of comfort she hadn’t realized she missed until she was standing in it.
“It smells amazing,” Kara said, already drifting toward the kitchen.
At the island, Peter was tossing a salad, the scraping of the bowl soft against the background babbling.
“Hey, Peter,” Kara offered him a small smile as she entered.
“Hey,” he replied easily, like her being there was the most normal thing in the world.
Zoe came up behind her, smiling as she watched Kara hold Isabel while her husband tended to dinner. She let out a deep, contented sigh, visibly happy with the scene unfolding before her.
“Let’s eat,” Zoe said.
Isabel, now content in her arms, little hands grabbing at anything within reach, Zoe shifted her carefully and moved toward a nearby rocking chair setup.
Kara watched as Zoe gently placed Isabel down, adjusting the blanket around her before giving her a soft starting bounce.
Isabel cooed happily.
Zoe straightened, brushing her hands off. “Okay. Before she decides she’s running this house.”
“Too late. She already does.”
They settled around the dinner table as the lasagna came out of the oven, steam rising in hot waves that filled the space with comfort.
Peter was already pulling out plates while Zoe kept one eye on Isabel in the rocking chair. Kara realized she couldn’t fully relax unless she could still see her.
“So I’m thinking I’ll just stay at the house while we sort everything out,” she said casually, like it wasn’t already decided.
Zoe looked up immediately. “That’s actually, really sweet of you.”
Kara blinked once. “It is?”
“Yeah,” Zoe said, smiling as she grabbed a serving spoon. “Makes it faster. Plus you don’t have to keep going back and forth from the resort.”
Peter nodded.
Kara gave a small shrug, picking at the edge of a napkin. “Yeah, well. Efficiency and all that.”
In her head, she added silently: No ulterior motive whatsoever. Definitely not trying to dig through every drawer in that house like a detective with trust issues.
Zoe slid a plate in front of her. “You’re overthinking it.”
“I am not,” Kara said quickly.
Zoe just smiled like she didn’t believe her for a second. “Mm-hmm.”
Peter chuckled under his breath. “She’s always been like that?”
“Worse,” Zoe said immediately.
“Hey,” Kara protested, though she was smiling now.
The three of them ate for a moment in easy silence. This is nice,” Zoe said quietly after a moment. “Having you here.”
Kara paused, fork halfway to her mouth. “Yeah,” she said more softly. “It is.”
The house was dark when Kara returned, the porch light casting a sickly yellow glow across the steps and peeling siding. She let herself in quietly, half-expecting ghosts of relatives to greet her in the hallway.
She stood in the living room for a long moment, letting her eyes adjust to the dim light. Boxes were half-packed, some labeled, others not. The smell of old furniture and dust hung in the air, layered over with faint traces of her father’s cologne—cheap, biting, and unforgettable.
She dropped her bag near the door and exhaled, the weight of the evening settling deeper into her shoulders.
The flicker of Colin’s confession still echoed in her chest, but so did the sharp edge of guilt. She couldn’t think about it anymore—not tonight. Not until she could make peace with the truth.
Kara wandered into the kitchen, running her hand along the chipped counter where her mother used to make pancakes and scrambled eggs on lazy Sunday mornings.
The memory tugged at her, and she let it come.
Let it hurt.
She poured herself a glass of water and stared at the crooked magnet on the fridge that read: If you don't like the heat, get out of my kitchen.
She smiled despite herself.
Her phone buzzed on the counter—Isaac.
She silenced the call.
He’d understand eventually, even if he didn’t love the decision. This wasn’t just about finishing the packing. It was about facing everything she’d left buried in these walls.
The house was hers and Zoe’s now, for better or worse. And if she was going to finally close this chapter, she had to do it right.
She grabbed a roll of tape and began sealing up the box nearest the hall. Dust swirled in the quiet.
The floor creaked under her steps.
She hadn’t slept much. Kara slept on the couch; somehow, none of the rooms had felt right. She stood at the kitchen sink, rinsing out her coffee cup, her sleeves rolled to her elbows, the sun just beginning to pierce through the half-drawn blinds.
The floor was cool beneath her feet as she moved toward the small desk by the window, brushing her hair back with one hand.
I have to go to the police.
If there were answers, that’s where they would be. Files. Reports. Evidence logs. Or maybe the lack of them.
Kara pulled open a drawer and found an old notepad and pen. Sitting down, she hesitated for only a second before starting to write.
Chief Givens. Sergeant Peralta. Officer James.
She paused, tapping the pen lightly against the paper.
Who else had been around back then?
Her memory reached for small things, faces she barely paid attention to at the time. People who came and went. The Moonlit Diner had been a regular stop for some of them.
For the coffee and pie of the day.
Her brows pulled together slightly. There had always been another one around. She wrote again. The current Chief was a deputy back then—newly appointed and the former Chief’s son.
Deputy Givens.
Kara leaned back slightly, staring at the names as she set the pen down slowly.
She didn’t actually know any of them personally. They had just been uniforms passing through her life without meaning. Now, they felt like something else entirely, something worth looking into.
If she was going to do this- walk into the station, start asking questions- she needed to be careful.