Chapter 23
Kara stared at the screen, eyes dry, shoulders tight, her brain caught between exhaustion and clarity. The Halbrook file sat open, her entries bleeding into one another. The words had lost their meaning hours ago.
“Enough,” she muttered.
She dragged the notepad closer and flipped to a clean page, ignoring the faint imprint of previous scribbles pressed into the paper. For a second, she just stared at it—the blank space waiting for her thoughts to materialize.
Kara dragged a hand down her face, exhaustion pressing in harder now that her thoughts had somewhere to land.
Colin would maybe recognize the initials; he knew the townsfolk in a way she didn’t.
She tore the page from the notepad, folding it once, then again, before slipping it into her bag.
Then her gaze shifted back to the ledger; it felt like something she shouldn’t leave exposed.
Moving toward the small closet where the hotel safe was tucked neatly on the shelf. She crouched, pulling the door open and keying in a new code.
The back entrance of the restaurant was quiet when she arrived. Colin had texted her earlier, offering insight and a meal. She couldn’t imagine being foolish enough to pass that up.
Kara found him sitting at a small table by the window.
The overhead light was dim, the room scented with roasted garlic and something sweet.
Two covered plates waited beside cloth napkins and thick glasses of water with thin lemon slices.
Music hummed in the background, just enough to feel like company.
“I didn’t want a show,” he said as she stepped in. “Figured we could avoid any nosy stares this way.”
She gave him a grateful smile. The last of the customers left in a cluster, chairs scraping softly against the floor as conversation faded into the street outside. The front doors closed with a final chime.
“You gonna tell me what you found out?”
“I pulled all of the initials from the ledger. They repeat in patterns—same recurring dates, with the same amounts.”
Kara stepped closer, pointing lightly at the page. “These—M.R., T.B., L.C., R.D.—they show up tied to small entries. At first glance. I cross-referenced them. The timing doesn’t line up with the other records they’re attached to. Meaning they got the product, but in no particular order.”
“And this one,” she tapped the last mark. “Just ‘G.’ No second initial. But it shows up less often, and when it does, the numbers are bigger. Like whoever it is has more priority. It made me think of Givens, father or son.”
Colin didn’t respond right away.
“Kara,” he said quietly.
“What?”
“When did you last sleep?”
She let out a breath through her nose. “That’s not—”
“It is,” he interrupted.
It irritated her more than it should have. “I’m serious,” Kara added, voice tightening. “This is something!”
“I believe you,” Colin said. “I just don’t think your brain is giving you the full picture right now.”
“I’m fine.”
His voice dropped slightly. “Sorry. I’m saying slow down. Because if you’re right about this, then you need to be sane.”
He leaned back against the booth now, giving her space again. “Let’s do this properly,” he said. “No guessing and filling in blanks after no sleep.”
“So what, I just wait?”
“No,” he said. “We figure this out. Together. This is just a part of the conspiracy. I need you safe and well. I can’t help you if you won’t help yourself first. I’m worried about you, Kara.”
“It felt like it was all clicking into place.”
“That’s what makes it dangerous,” Colin said, pushing himself up and reaching out his hand. “Come on. You need to fill your belly and rest.
“This reminds me of back then, closing the diner, you’d wait with and force me to eat ”.
Colin grinned. “You’d lie and say you weren’t hungry. Then eat all of my fries.”
“You let me.”
“I think I just liked seeing you eat. It was one of the only times you looked...so peaceful. It was all I could do for you then”.
For a long while, they said nothing. The warble of the commercial washer filled the silence.
“Are you doing okay?” he asked, voice lower now. “Really?”
She wanted to lie but didn’t.
“I don’t know. It's easier not to think. Or feel.”
“Then just be here. We don’t have to do anything else. I’m not here to make this more complicated for you, Kara. I’m not going to pretend I don’t care. Just feel. For once, stop fighting it.”
Her eyes held his—he took a step closer, close enough that she could feel the warmth of him, smell the faint spice of his cologne. She didn’t move when his fingers reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.
“I shouldn’t—” she began. But his lips met hers before she could finish.
It was slow, devastatingly tender, and she answered.
Her hands found the front of his shirt, fingers curling in the fabric.
Guilt clawed at the edges of her thoughts, but in that moment, with his forehead pressed to hers, breath mingling, she let herself have it.
When they finally pulled apart, breathing heavily, their eyes locked. Time seemed to stretch as they gazed at one another, silently searching for reassurance that what they had just shared had been real.
That night, the memory of their kiss lingered in her mind, following her all the way into her dreams.
? ? ?
Kara heard the knock just after sunrise. Not the sharp, rhythmic kind housekeeping would make, but a heavier, impatient thud.
She opened the door slowly—and went still.
Isaac stood there, suitcase in hand. “I couldn’t sit on the other side of the country wondering what the hell is going on for much longer,” he said, brushing past her into the hotel suite.
“You said you had meetings…”
“And you said you were packing. Not going radio silent for days.”
“I needed time.”
“You should have needed me. But instead, I get ignored. For what? What is going on with you, Kara?”
“I just needed space.”
“From me?” Isaac set his suitcase down and crossed his arms. “I’m your fiancé. We’re building a life together, do you remember?”
Before she could answer, another knock echoed. Isaac stared at the door. “Expecting someone?”
“No.” She took a step toward the door—too late—Isaac swung it open.
Colin stood in the doorway holding a paper bag with two coffee cups balanced in a cardboard carrier, his mouth already in a wide grin, halfway into a greeting when he saw Isaac.
“Shit,” he muttered under his breath.
Isaac glanced between them, stunned for a moment before stepping aside. “Oh. Of course.”
“You must be Isaac. I’m Colin.”
“You two seem awfully close.”
“He’s just checking in on me.”
Isaac barked out, “You vanish for days, you don’t return my calls, and now Colin is just showing up at your hotel room with coffee like this is some kind of—”
“Stop,” she said sharply. “Nothing’s going on.” But even as the words left her lips, she felt how thin they were; if she hadn’t physically crossed every line, she had crossed enough of them, especially in her mind.
Isaac watched her, searching her face for answers. The words were there. She could feel them, edged and ready, pressing against the back of her teeth. Kara didn't want to fight, not with him and not like this.
She’d seen his messages and calls, saw the insistence of a response after her continued silence.
There was no excuse for that, not a good one, anyway.
“I didn’t know what to say. I'm not trying to avoid you. It just… felt easier than explaining something even though I don't fully understand yet.”
Colin cleared his throat. “Maybe I should go.”
Kara closed her eyes briefly. Isaac’s attention snapped to him fully now. “Why are you still here?”
“To make sure she stays safe,” Colin said, his voice steady but edged with something protective. “So I’m here—for her.”
Kara watched the exchange from where she stood, saying nothing.
There was a firmness in Colin’s tone she hadn’t heard before.
It struck her how quickly lines could be erased when fear was involved, how easily people stepped into roles they hadn’t planned for.
She shifted slightly, her arms folding loosely as her gaze moved between them.
“You didn’t mention that?” Isaac shot back at her, ignoring Colin. “You feel unsafe?
“I didn’t want to make it a bigger deal than it was."
“By not telling me?” His voice rose slightly now.
“I told you I was fine.”
“That’s not the same thing,” he snapped.
“I didn’t want you to worry.”
Isaac let out a breath. That’s not your call to make.”
“That’s why I came back here. It’s safer, more public, with cameras everywhere.”
“And he just…showed up?” Isaac asked pointedly.
Colin answered before she could. “I wanted to make sure she was okay.”
Isaac’s jaw tightened.
Kara stepped forward slightly, forcing herself into the space between them. “Can we not do this right now?”
“I should’ve called,” Colin said gently. “I didn’t mean to… complicate things.”
Isaac scoffed. “How noble of you.”
“Wait,” she said, grabbing Colin’s arm before he could disappear. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
Colin turned toward Isaac. “She’s been through hell”.
The air was bitter as Colin stepped out into the hallway, and Isaac turned away from her, rubbing a hand over his jaw.
Kara felt the ground fall beneath her. The version of herself she’d been trying to hold onto—and the one quietly unraveling were at war.
Isaac exhaled. Some of the edge in him eased—but not all of it.
“Fine,” he said. “Start talking. Tell me everything from the beginning.”
Kara knew she didn’t have the option to leave anything out. Forty minutes passed by the time she had caught him up on everything. Everything except the kiss and the overnight at Colin's.
Isaac didn't respond when she was finished. He only stared at her like she was a stranger.
Isaac stood near the window, arms crossed, staring out at the dull gray clouds that hung over the mountains. Danger loomed in the distance. She sat on the edge of the bed, hands clenched in her lap, her engagement ring catching the light with quiet mockery.
“I didn’t sleep with him,” she said finally, her voice low.