She gripped my arm. “I’m not leaving you.”
“You’re not leaving me. You’re protecting yourself. That protects me.”
Her eyes searched mine. “You plan to do something dangerous.”
“I plan to finish what I started eight years ago.”
“Ethan—”
“Rachel.” I took her face in my hands. “I spent fourteen years learning how to survive the impossible. I need you to trust me to do this.”
Tears welled in her eyes. “And what am I supposed to do while you’re out there doing impossible things?”
“Meet me at the coordinates I’m about to send you. Wait there. If I don’t arrive by morning, call Captain Ward.”
“And then?”
“Then you tell him everything I’ve ever told you about Cole. About Northstar. About all of it.”
She nodded, swiping at her tears.
“I love you,” she said. “Even when I didn’t show it. Even when I was angry. Even when we drifted apart.”
“I know.”
“Promise me you’ll come back.”
I kissed her forehead.
“I promise.”
She got into her car and drove away without looking back.
I watched her taillights disappear down the county road, then turned toward my truck.
Twenty minutes later, I pulled into a dusty gas station just outside town.
The pump hissed as I filled the tank. The lights buzzed overhead in the growing dusk. A lone attendant watched me from behind the counter.
He was one of them.
I’d seen his face in Cole’s garbage. A confidential informant paid for information about county residents.
He’d recognize me.
That meant I needed to act first.
I walked inside and paid in cash.
“Rough day,” he said, gesturing at the pink stain still visible on my shirt.
“You could say that.”
“Sheriff Cole’s a hard man.”
“So I’ve noticed.”
The attendant leaned forward. “Word is you made some calls. Brought down trouble.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Sure you don’t.”
His hand drifted toward something under the counter.
My training kicked in automatically.
I lunged across the counter, grabbing his wrist before his fingers closed around the handle of his weapon.
“Wrong move,” I said quietly.
His eyes widened.
“Please—”
“How much does Cole pay you?”
“I don’t—”
I applied pressure to a nerve cluster in his forearm. He gasped.
“Let’s try again. How much?”
“Five hundred a month.”
“For what?”
“Information. Who comes and goes. What people say about him.”
“Tonight. What did he tell you to do?”
His face paled. “He said if a mechanic with a pink shirt came through, I should call the number in my phone. Immediately.”
I found the phone in his jacket pocket and scrolled through recent calls.
The last number matched the one Ward had identified as Black Ridge.
“Did you call?”
“Not yet.”
“Good.”
I released him and stepped back.
“You’re going to forget I was here.”
“People will ask—”
“Tell them I paid for gas and left westbound on the highway. I never entered the building.”
He nodded frantically.
I walked out into the cooling night air and climbed back into my truck.
My mind sorted through the chessboard of threats.
Travis Cole. A corrupt sheriff with Northstar connections.
Black Ridge Development. A shell company funneling money through legitimate channels.
Dale Mercer. A mysterious figure whose only path to this town ran through Cole.
And Rachel. My wife, who had been watched for months without her knowledge.
The pieces would come together tonight.
I drove west with the window down and the cold Montana air cutting across my face. The stars were beginning to emerge, scattered across the darkening sky like shrapnel frozen mid-explosion.
Ahead, the road bent through a grove of pine trees that blocked the moonlight.
I slowed.
Instinct warned me before my eyes confirmed it.
A vehicle sat across the road blocking both lanes.
Headlights off.
Engine idling.
I stopped the truck and put it in park.
The door of the other vehicle opened.
A tall figure stepped out. Dressed in civilian clothes. Face shadowed by the darkness.
But I recognized the voice.
“You made good time, Ethan.”
“Travis.”
Sheriff Cole walked toward me, stopping a full fifteen feet away. The distance told me he was armed and aware.
“You’ve been busy since the diner.”
“Just living my life.”
“Your life is about to get complicated.”
I met his eyes. “That was already the plan.”
Cole laughed. It was a hollow sound in the empty air.
“I’m going to give you some advice, Hayes. Take Rachel and leave Montana. Drive east. Change your name. Start over.”
“And if I don’t?”
“Then people will find out what happened in that convoy eight years ago. The one Northstar ran. The one that killed your team.”
My hands curled into fists.
“You know about that.”
“I know more than you think.”
“Then you know I’m not the kind of man who runs.”
Cole’s smile faded. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
He reached inside his jacket.
Two figures emerged from the treeline behind him. Deputies. Weapons drawn.
“Because that means I get to finish this tonight.”
I counted the distances carefully. The deputies were spread wide, forcing me to expose myself to one side whichever way I turned.
Cole stepped closer.
