Chapter 32
Phoenix
Two days after the Thanksgiving Market, the air over Val-Du-Lys had that dense cold feeling.
It screamed we wouldn’t be having anymore warm fall days.
The pumpkins Elyna and I bought sat on the porch rail, one tiny and lopsided for Braden, the other big enough for the three of us to carve together when things calmed down. If they ever did.
Elyna said she’d come down to my house once Braden woke up from his nap.
I had taken leftovers from Thanksgiving dinner and warmed them up for lunch.
My house smelled like roasted turkey and sage.
Dominic and Angela joined me again to help finish off the leftovers, though I was pretty sure we’d be eating turkey sandwiches until Christmas.
The kitchen buzzed with warmth and laughter, and for a while, it almost felt normal.
Almost.
But that comfort didn’t last. Not after what happened at the market with Colette showing up out of nowhere and scooping Braden into her arms like she had a claim. Elyna hadn’t slept right since. Every creak on the porch pulled her to the window. Every passing truck made her stiffen.
We were sitting at my long kitchen table together. I was picking at a plate of reheated stuffing and pie, when Becket came in through the mudroom door. One look at him told me lunch was about to turn sour.
He wasn’t in uniform, just jeans and a gray Henley, but his face was all business. He carried a folder under his arm. Dad followed behind with a coffee in hand. His expression was just as grim.
Angela noticed first. “Oh no,” she sighed, setting down the container she was filling. “That’s not the face of a man stopping in for some leftovers.”
Dominic gave a knowing look. “You two can’t even give us one holiday off?”
Dad’s voice was quiet but firm. “Wish I could.”
Angela muttered something about “Thorne men and their timing,” kissed Dominic on the cheek, and pulled him toward the back porch. “Come on, let them talk shop before my blood pressure spikes.”
When the door shut behind them, the house fell into that heavy stillness that only came before bad news. Becket dropped the folder on the table.
“We’ve been tracing the messages Elyna got, the ones pretending to be from Riley.”
My stomach clenched. “And?”
“They were bounced through burners,” he said, flipping open the file.
“Three different numbers. Whoever’s sending them knows how to cover their trail.
But we confirmed something else.” He tapped a printout of bank records.
“The transfer Elyna mentioned? Riley withdrew that cash. But that’s the last we’ve seen of him.
No more activity. No phone pings. Nothing. ”
“Meaning he’s missing?” I asked.
Dad’s tone was hard. “Or worse.”
Becket nodded. “Either way, it’s not him sending the messages anymore. Someone else has his phone and they’re using it.”
The air in the room shifted.
Dad took a slow sip of coffee. “Montreal PD’s been cooperative. They confirmed Riley’s been tangled up with a small-time loan shark, Louis Marchand out of Verdun. He has guys who collect money in a fast and mean way.”
My grip tightened on the edge of the table. “How bad?”
“The kind of debt you don’t walk away from,” Becket said. “He was buying time. Elyna’s money helped but when it ran out, he made things worse.”
Dad met my eyes, his voice flat. “He told Marchand about Val-Du-Lys.”
For a second, I couldn’t breathe. “What?”
Becket leaned forward, elbows on the table. “Riley fed him stories. Said the town was full of money, big properties, easy targets, families who don’t lock their doors. He thought if Marchand came here, he’d find cash fast and leave him alone.”
“He sold out his own kid’s hometown,” I said, disbelief turning to anger.
“Yeah,” Becket muttered. “And now Marchand is here with his little gang.”
Dad’s jaw set. “They’ve been spotted around town bars, poker games, asking questions about the Thornes and the brewery. And they’re not the only problem.”
“Meaning?”
Dad’s eyes flicked to Becket, then back to me. “Marcel Bellerose.”
That name hit like a hammer. “He’s still running things?”
“He never stopped,” Dad said grimly. “Still pulling strings from that garage of his. Cards, drugs, and smuggling through the forest trails into the U.S. He keeps a tight leash on his operation. Doesn’t like outsiders on his turf.”
Becket added, “Marchand entering Bellerose’s territory has made him very unhappy. And when Marcel’s unhappy, people go missing.”
I rubbed a hand over my jaw. “So now we’ve got two sets of criminals sniffing around, one chasing debt, one defending his territory.”
Dad nodded once. “Exactly. And we’re caught in the middle.”
Before I could answer, the mudroom door opened, and Elyna stepped inside holding Braden against her hip. His cheeks were pink from his nap, his little fingers tangled in her sweater. She took one look at our faces and froze.
“What’s wrong?” she asked quietly.
Dad softened his tone. “Just sorting through something from the market, Elyna.”
She gave a small, skeptical laugh. “You all look like you’re sorting through a murder, not leftovers.”
Becket couldn’t help but grin. “She’s got your number, Phoenix.”
“Always,” I muttered.
Elyna shifted Braden higher on her hip. “It’s Riley, isn’t it?”
Becket nodded. “We think so. Or someone connected to him.”
Her throat tightened. “Colette said something about him having friends in town. I thought she was just trying to scare me.”
“She was,” Dad said, “but she wasn’t lying.”
Elyna’s fingers trembled as she brushed Braden’s hair from his face. “What kind of friends?”
“The kind we don’t want in Val-Du-Lys,” Becket said. “Loan enforcers. Dangerous men.”
She swallowed hard. “Dammit.”
I stepped forward, took Braden gently from her arms, and brushed my thumb over her wrist. “You and Braden are safe, Elyna. You have my word.”
Her eyes met mine, watery but steady. “You always say that like it’s a promise.”
“It is.”
Dad cleared his throat, drawing her attention. “We’ve already got eyes around the property. A patrol car will make passes up the lane, and we’ll have plainclothes officers in town. Nothing too visible.”
“That’s not enough,” I said before I could stop myself. “They’re smart. They’ll test her boundaries first.”
Dad’s expression warned me to tread carefully. “We’re doing what we can without stirring panic. You need to let us handle it.”
I exhaled slowly, tamping down the urge to argue. “Yeah. Okay.”
Elyna glanced between us, reading the things we weren’t saying. “You think Riley’s alive?”
Becket’s shoulders lifted in a careful shrug. “We can’t say for sure. But we’re preparing like he’s not the one behind this anymore.”
She went quiet then, her arms wrapping around herself, as if she were trying to hold in the fear. “Who would do something like this?”
Dad’s voice was steady and matter of fact. “People who see opportunity. Riley’s mess brought them here. Now we make sure they don’t stay.”
Elyna nodded, though I could tell she didn’t fully believe it. Then something flickered across her face, a thought catching light. “You said Bellerose,” she murmured. “Harmony’s father?”
I blinked. “Right, you two were close in high school, weren’t you?”
“She was one of the only ones who didn’t look at me like I was damaged goods,” Elyna said softly. “We kept in touch after she moved to Montreal. I’d run into her sometimes at cafés, markets, you know how small that city can feel once you’ve lived there a while.”
Becket’s brows lifted slightly. “You’ve seen her recently?”
“We kept in touch. She was the one who warned me about Riley cheating on me,” Elyna winced. “I think she said she was working at a bakery part time while saving to open her own place. I don’t think she’s back in touch with her father. She left because of him.”
Dad gave a slow nod, absorbing that. “Harmony’s a good kid, but Marcel? He’s a man who doesn’t like loose ends.”
I rubbed a hand along the back of my neck. “And now he’s got competition breathing down his neck, A guy named Marchand that Riley dragged here from Montreal. That’s going to make him unpredictable.”
The silence that followed was thick, charged with things none of us wanted to name out loud. Elyna’s hand found mine under the counter, her fingers cool, grip tight. I squeezed back once.
Finally, Dad pushed away from the counter, his tone turning brisk again. “We’ll keep an eye on things. You two stay close to home. If you need anything, you call.”
Elyna’s voice was small but steady. “Thank you, Pierre.”
“No need for thanks,” he said, softer now. “You’re part of this family.”
Her eyes shone at that, and I knew the words hit deeper than he realized.
When Dad and Becket left, the house fell quiet again. The only sounds were Braden’s soft babbling and the rhythmic tick of the kitchen clock. I slid my chair closer and pulled Elyna into my lap. She didn’t resist, just curled into me, her head against my shoulder, her breath uneven.
“I hate you have to go through this,” I murmured.
“I hate it followed me here,” she whispered back. “This town was supposed to be safe.”
“It still is,” I said, meaning it. “As long as you’re here, I’ll make sure it stays that way.”
Her head lifted, her eyes searching mine. “Even if it means getting caught in the middle of something dangerous?”
I brushed my thumb along her jaw, forcing a smile. “Even then.”
Because that’s what Thornes did, we protected what was ours.
And somewhere along the way, Elyna and her little boy had become exactly that.