Chapter 31
A half-empty old coffee pot sat abandoned along with mugs on the counter. Kara sighed. She wasn't looking for answers that morning.
She washed up and cleared away the dishes, grateful for something simple and ordinary to occupy her hands.
With fresh coffee brewing, sunlight spilling across the kitchen floor, and the local news droning softly from the television mounted above the counter.
She barely paid attention to it.
The anchor was discussing a town council budget meeting when she turned away to grab a mug from the cabinet.
Then she heard a familiar name.
"...former Police Chief Frank Givens..."
The mug slipped slightly in her hand.
Her head snapped toward the television.
The screen shifted to a photograph of Chief Givens taken years earlier during his time in office. The image showed him smiling at some long-forgotten community event, his silver badge catching the sunlight.
A banner stretched across the bottom of the screen.
FORMER POLICE CHIEF DIES AT 72
Kara slowly set the mug on the counter.
The anchor continued.
"Longtime residents are mourning the loss of former Police Chief Frank Givens, who passed away overnight at Willow Creek Nursing Home from natural causes."
Natural causes.
The words seemed to echo through the kitchen.
The news segment continued with old photographs of Givens throughout the years. There he was shaking hands at a ribbon-cutting ceremony. Standing beside a patrol car. Accepting an award for community service.
As a respected public servant, a pillar of the community, and the beloved former Chief.
The version of Frank Givens the town remembered.
The anchor's voice continued.
"Current Chief Daryl Givens released a statement this morning, confirming that he was present when his father, former Chief Frank, passed.
His father was 'a dedicated public servant whose contributions to this town will not be forgotten.
' Funeral arrangements are expected to be announced later this week. "
The segment ended. The station moved on to the weather. Eyes fixed on the television long after Givens's photograph had disappeared.
She couldn't explain it. Everything about the report made sense. Givens was seventy-two with dementia. He lived in a nursing home. He was hardly a spring chicken. There was nothing unusual about that. Yet every instinct she possessed was screaming otherwise.
Only days ago they had been talking to him. When they both agreed that he knew more than he had ever admitted. Now nobody could question him or find out if he was hiding something more.
Kara grabbed the remote and turned up the volume. She watched it again. As if repetition might somehow make the timing feel less suspicious.
It didn't. She needed to talk to Colin immediately.
She drifted toward the hallway. The bedroom door stood partially open. A faint shaft of morning sunlight spilled across the floor. Quietly, Kara made her way toward it. For a moment, she simply stood in the doorway. The sight unexpectedly stole her breath.
Colin was asleep. The room was bathed in soft golden light filtering through the curtains, casting shadows across the walls and bedding.
He looked so serene with one arm resting above his head while the other lay across his chest. His brown hair was a mess, falling across his forehead.
The strain that seemed permanently etched into his features lately had vanished. His brow was smooth.
The sight made her chest ache. He was free from the weight he carried. Looking at him now, it was impossible not to think about how hard he had been pushing himself.
He looked his age instead of ten years older. Every spare moment had become part of the investigation. And when he wasn't chasing clues, he was running his restaurant.
Colin shifted. His eyes blinked open slowly. For a second, he looked confused, then cracked a smile.
“Kara?”
His voice was rough with sleep.
She hated what she had to say next. The peacefulness vanished almost instantly.
“What is it?”
He was already pushing himself upright. Already alert. Every trace of sleep disappeared from Colin's face.
She told him what she saw on the news, barely containing her tears.
"Natural causes?" he asked.
"Yeah."
Then Colin swung his legs off the bed. Kara already knew that look of determination. And as he stood, running a hand through his disheveled hair, Kara realized they were both thinking the same thing.
Neither of them believed in coincidences anymore.
Chief Givens had spent decades standing at the center of nearly every secret this town possessed. Not always as an active participant.
"I don't like this," she admitted.
"Who do you think killed him?"
"I don't know."
But instincts were difficult things to ignore. “Colin.” Her voice carried softly through the house. “What should we do?”
Kara had expected Elias to return with answers, with instructions, with something. Instead, the hours slipped by unnoticed, measured only by the shifting sunlight creeping across the wooden floorboards.
She sat on the porch steps staring into the trees. Colin joined her sometime after, lowering himself onto the step beside her.
There wasn't much left to say. Every possibility they'd discussed, and it still ended the same way.
“They’re cleaning house,” Kara breathed.
Colin rubbed a hand across the back of his neck.
"If they're removing everyone connected, then eventually they'll come for everyone who knows."
She thought of Sergeant Vargas, of Zoe and her family.
“They've been following me, the threat left at the front door, the ledger being stolen. I go to the station. We're ambushed.”
“They know exactly where we are every time.”
“If they're killing everyone connected…” She stopped.
Her eyes met Colin's eyes.
“I am the trail.”
“If that's true,” he said, looking into the surrounding woods, “Then hiding isn't going to save anyone.”
Neither of them liked the conclusion.
Kara couldn't stop thinking about everything happening beyond the cabin walls. Richard, the people who were still after her—it all made her wonder what was happening to everyone they had left behind.
Most of all, she worried about Zoe.
She pulled out her phone and called her, praying she'd answer.
“Hey,” Zoe answered after a few rings.
Relief washed through Kara so quickly she nearly sagged with it.
“Are you okay?”
“I'm fine. Why?”
Kara hesitated, unsure how much she could tell her. “I just wanted to check on you.”
“Well, we're actually out of town,” Zoe said. “We decided to visit the in-laws for a few days. With whatever is going on, I feel safer far away, and Peter really could use a break.”
Kara closed her eyes. “Good.”
“What?”
“Nothing. I'm glad you're safe.”
They spoke for another minute before Kara finally ended the call. At least Zoe was safe.
The day felt like it had lasted a month.
Kara lowered the phone, but before she could put it away, Colin spoke.
“You need to turn that off. If the police are involved, they could ping your phone.”
Kara powered it down and set it on the table.
The day stretched on. They searched the cabin for anything Elias might have left. They took turns watching from the windows. Every snapping twig sent them looking toward the tree line.
The waiting became its own kind of torture.
The cabin had gone quiet.
For the first time since they arrived, there were no engines in the distance or sudden noises that made Kara’s pulse jump. Just the soft drone of the heater and the occasional crackle from the fake fireplace.
Colin sat at the kitchen table, his hands wrapped around a mug of coffee he hadn't touched.
Kara watched him from the other side of the room.
“You're doing it again,” he said.
She frowned. “Doing what?”
“Watching me.”
He grunted softly, but an unmistakable little smile tugged at the corners of his lips.
“I thought I was going to lose you,” she admitted.
Colin's expression changed. “Kara…”
“No.” She shook her head. “Let me finish.”
He waited.
“When we were on that road, I thought that was it. I thought we were going to die.” She swallowed, remembering the gunfire, the glass, the terror of realizing there might not be a way out. “And the strangest thing happened.”
“What?”
“I wasn't thinking about myself,” she told him. “I was thinking about you.”
He lowered his gaze.
“I realized I couldn't stand the thought of you dying without telling you something.”
“What?” His eyes lifted.
Kara took a slow breath.
“That I love you.”
He pushed his chair back and stood. Kara's heart began to race, but this time there was no fear behind it.
Colin crossed the room slowly until he stood in front of her.
“You really think I'm going to let you say something like that and not have an answer?”
“I don't know.”
He reached for her hand.
“I love you too, Kara. I've loved you for a long time,” he continued. “I just convinced myself that wanting you was something I had to get over.”
“And now?” She looked down at their joined hands.
“Now I think I'm done running from the truth.”
Outside, the wind moved through the pines, brushing against the cabin walls.
Neither of them cared what waited beyond them. Colin pulled her closer, and Kara rested her forehead against his chest.
? ? ?
It was late in the afternoon the next day when sunlight filtered through the pines. Kara noticed it first.
She frowned toward the western ridge.
“Colin.”
A thin ribbon of gray smoke rose above the trees. It was little more than a haze. Then it thickened. Within moments, it darkened.
Fire.
“It's close.”
Too close.
The smoke climbed rapidly now, billowing higher by the second.
“It could be a controlled burn.”
Another crack echoed faintly through the trees. Wood splitting.
“If someone's out there—”
“And if it's a trap?”
Everything inside her screamed to stay put. Elias had told them to. Whoever wanted them dead could be counting on exactly this kind of distraction.
What if someone needed help?
She imagined a family trapped in a burning cabin. Someone with no idea what was happening. She looked back toward the growing column of smoke.
“We can't just watch.”
Colin looked from the fire to the cabin.
“We leave this place, and we might be walking into exactly what they want.”
Another loud crack rolled through the forest.
This one was followed by the unmistakable sound of glass shattering.
Kara had already made her decision.
“We don't have time.”
She sprinted toward the fire. Colin muttered something under his breath before chasing after her.
They tore down the narrow dirt path, the smoke growing thicker with every turn.
As the trees finally opened, the full blaze came into view.
“Oh my God.”
The cabin was engulfed.