Chapter 25

25

Melissa

I t’s hard to keep a panic attack at bay when Mitch and Ethan come home from a literal gunfight. Luckily, they’re alive and well, with the exception of a graze on Mitch’s neck. All I can do is sit in my armchair by the fire, wondering if I’ll have any sense left in me to cook their dinner later tonight. My brain is ablaze. I’m still trying to wrap my head around everything.

Colton stands near the window thinking while Ethan tells us what happened.

“And so, we think Jake planned the whole thing,” Mitch concludes. I can’t take my eyes off the Band-aid on his neck.

“The whole thing,” I mumble, hands discretely cradling my belly. I’m not showing yet, especially underneath this oversized hoodie, but my baby is growing, my secret lingers beneath, and I could’ve lost both Ethan and Mitch today. The thought brings tears to my eyes.

Mitch rushes to kneel before me. “Hey, hey… Melissa, it’s okay,” he says, gently caressing my face. “We’re okay, see?”

“But you could’ve—" I hiccup.

“We could’ve, but we didn’t,” Ethan adds and sits on the armrest of my chair, lovingly squeezing my shoulder. “We survived, and I have zero regrets about going there in the first place. We figured it out today. The whole thing.”

“The whole thing,” I say it again. “Make it make sense because it sounds like one hell of master plan.”

Colton nods in agreement. “It kind of is if you think about it. Jake was making pennies compared to what the cartel was pulling in from their drug deals. He wanted more, but he didn’t want or couldn’t get involved any deeper with them. My guess is they’re too dangerous, too easy to cross. So, and I’m just theorizing here… he figured he’d move some more cocaine for them. He’d get you arrested, charged, and imprisoned for it. If he had someone on the inside…”

“With Ainsworth PD, you mean,” Ethan replies.

“Yeah. If he had a buddy or some accomplice in uniform over there, it might have seemed like an easy gig. They’d simply wait until Melissa was in prison, and then the confiscated drugs would just disappear.”

Mitch sighs. “The cops have a protocol for these narcotics. They sit in evidence lockup for a predetermined period of time, and once that term expires, they destroy the drugs. If Jake’s inside guy could swipe them before the term expired, he’d get himself a nice cut, and Jake would walk off with the rest. Melissa’s in prison, fooled into pleading guilty because of overwhelming evidence and testimony against her.”

“The cartel blames her, and here we are,” Colton continues. “But something went wrong somewhere along the way. You’re right, Mitch. Something happened with his inside guy in Ainsworth, and Jake found himself cut off from his stash. He can’t get the drugs out of evidence lockup, which is why he came back to find Melissa, to scare her… to push her into figuring out a way to save his sorry ass.”

Ethan scoffs. “He heard about the Path to Freedom Initiative. Probably did a little bit of digging beforehand. Saw the ranch, how big it is. He must’ve thought we’re sitting on piles of cash out here.”

“Truth be told, we’re not poor,” Mitch chuckles dryly.

“Yeah, but you can’t pay off the cartel,” I say, shaking my head in dismay. “We’ve gone over this one too many times. It’s not an option. And it’s not your mess to clean up.”

“And we’ve gone over that, too,” Colton cuts in. “It isn’t your mess either, Melissa. You’re our woman, our partner. We’re not letting you take more of this fall for Jake Miller.”

I take a deep breath, daring to imagine a future where there’s no Jake, no cartel. Just me, holding my baby Wrapped in the arms of my men, thanking God for having brought me this far. It fills me with a sense of hope, an idea slipping into the back of my head—maybe, just maybe, all isn’t lost yet.

“What can I do?” I ask the guys. “How can I help?”

“I’m glad you asked,” Mitch says, a smile blooming across his dark, handsome face. I reach out and run my fingers over his growing stubble, loving the prickly feel against my skin. “We need to take a trip to the past, Melissa. We need to investigate the very incident that got you arrested, starting with the people who testified against you and your old friends from Lincoln.”

“While you do that, Ethan and I will look into Ainsworth PD to see if we can find out who Jake’s inside guy was,” Colton says.

The idea of going back to Lincoln doesn’t thrill me, to be honest. It’s a part of my life I’ve long since said goodbye to. But if I have to do this in order to protect myself, my baby, and preserve what future I have left, then I guess I don’t have a better choice. It’s the right thing to do, especially after everything Colton, Ethan, and Mitch have already done for me.

Besides, my life here on the ranch won’t go any further unless we get the cartel off my back.

It means throwing Jake to the wolves, but… I realize I have zero hesitation in that sense. They’ll kill him. If we get to the truth, if we get the evidence we need against him, not only will my name be cleared and my sentence vacated—it will set Jake on a direct path of Hurricane Esparza. I’ve paid enough for his crimes. It’s time to turn the tables and set things right.

“Okay, we’ll go to Lincoln,” I tell Mitch with a slight nod. “We’ll get to the bottom of this and help the truth come to light. There’s no other way.”

“We’re with you, baby,” he replies and kisses me softly on the lips. “Every step of the way, we’ll be right there with you.”

It’s what gives me the strength to push forward.

“Kyle and Jason are going to help Sammy with the cooking side of things. Darla’s handling the cleaning,” Mitch reassures me as we head to Lincoln.

We’re using one of the ranch’s older pickup trucks in order to keep a low profile, but I don’t mind as long as I’m with Mitch. Ethan and Colton are headed to Ainsworth, in the meantime, following a similar strategy.

“It feels weird,” I tell Mitch as the road opens ahead, “not being at the ranch.”

“You’ve gotten used to it. Personally, I don’t mind. In fact, I like it. It means you really have become one of us,” he replies, half-smiling.

His phone is mounted on the dashboard, and I catch glimpses of Colton’s updates coming in. They’ll be in Ainsworth by nightfall. They haven’t had any issues so far but the issues will start the minute they walk into the police station and start asking questions. If Mitch’s theory is correct, they’ll ruffle a few feathers and stir up a lot of trouble.

“I can ride a horse, too,” I say with a little giggle, but I don’t feel too peachy.

The pregnancy is taking its toll on me, an added discomfort to the preexisting stress and anxiety. I’m constantly queasy, trying my best to stay hydrated and keep my vitals in the above-average range. I take the prenatal vitamins every day, and I’ve even adjusted the ranch menu to fit my needs without explaining it to anyone. Hell, the guys have actually enjoyed the new recipes and fruit additions.

“Melissa, it’s going to be okay,” Mitch says after a while, noticing my greyish state.

I can’t bring myself to tell him it’s more physical than emotional, so I nod instead. “I know, babe. I trust you and your brothers completely. I just… I just wish we didn’t have to do all this.”

“We kind of do,” he replies. “Yet another thing I don’t mind, to be perfectly honest. You deserve to have your name cleared and your life given back to you in full. There’s no turning the clock back, but we can still try and fix what we can.” He pauses and takes a deep breath as we drive past a sign that says we’re about fifty miles from Lincoln. “Now, tell me about those witnesses Jake found. What were their names again?”

“Laurel and Bruce,” I say, glancing at my notes app on my phone.

“And you said you’d never met them.”

I shake my head. “Laurel sort of looked familiar but I have no idea why. Bruce was a complete stranger to me. When they took the stand and claimed we were all friends, I kind of froze. I just couldn’t believe they would just swear on the Bible and lie through their teeth like that.”

“Did you and Jake have any common friends?”

“There was Lyle, a former foster kid like me. We hung out a lot while I was with Jake. He disappeared for a while,” I say, trying to remember my friend. His shaggy blonde hair and brown freckles come to mind, his wiry frame and crooked smile. He lost a tooth during a bar brawl. I wonder if he ever got around to fixing that. “A good guy, but he didn’t really like Jake.”

“And looking back, why do you think that was?”

I chuckle bitterly. “That’s a good question. Jake used to say it was because Lyle had feelings for me. I always thought Lyle was playing for the other team, though he never… you know, officially came out in that sense. I guess I chose to believe Jake.” I frown and shake my head. “Oh, God, I need to go over every conversation I ever had with Jake and remember how much of his crap I actually bought.”

“You were in love,” Mitch replies. “And you have a way of seeing the best in people. Stop beating yourself up over it. We’ve all done stupid things; we’ve all believed our share of lies over the years. Okay, so, Lyle. He could be a good starting point for us. Would you be able to find him?”

“Let me see. We were connected on social media. On my old account. Hold on…”

A few minutes later, and as we get closer to Lincoln, I manage to log into my old social networking account. There’s Lyle, posting a recent update to his profile. He looks a lot better to my delight. He’s grown a lot over the past few years. The shaggy hair is gone and the scraggly blonde beard is trimmed. And his eyes look bright in the photo.

“Lyle Sanders,” I say. “Yeah, he’s active, still in Lincoln. Says here he works at the Troubadour. I know that place. It’s a nice bistro downtown. Great food.”

“We should stop by and grab some lunch, what do you say?”

I give Mitch a broad smile. “You keep reading my mind, babe. I could definitely eat something.”

Lincoln is almost the same. Not much has changed in the handful of years since I’ve been gone. Storefronts look the same and so do the buildings. I see the same neighborhoods with townhouses and tiny front yards, picket fences, and curious neighbors watching every car that passes by. Not much has changed, but I certainly have. I feel like a stranger in my hometown.

We find the Troubadour and it’s looking better than I remember it. The front of the building has been repainted and there’s an added a splash of white on the giant window frames. It makes the whole place look brighter, cleaner. A hostess welcomes us at the door, and I notice the new uniforms: black pants, white shirt, dark red vest with a brass-colored nametag.

The young hostess takes us to a table and hands us menus.

“Is Lyle still working here?” I ask.

She smiles and nods. “Yep. He’s actually here right now. Would you like him to wait on you?”

“That would be amazing. Thank you so much.”

She nods politely and walks off.

“You’re nervous,” Mitch says, watching me intently.

“I don’t think I’ll stop being nervous until this is over,” I reply. “But in the meantime, I could eat. Ah, quiche. They have quiche.”

“You make the best quiche,” he says.

I look up to find him smiling, his loving gaze drinking me in. I would like nothing more than to jump in his lap and hold him close for the rest of my life. He deserves all the love I can give him and his brothers alike.

“I certainly don’t make the best quiche. Pretty sure the French beat me a very long time ago,” I quip, and he laughs lightly.

A presence to my left makes me turn my head. As soon as we see each other, the air in the room changes completely.

“Melissa… Is that you?” he asks, his voice but a whisper.

“Lyle. Yeah, it’s me. I can’t believe this,” I gasp and jump from my seat to hug him.

He welcomes the affection, albeit with slight reluctance. “You look fantastic,” he says once I sit back down. “I almost didn’t recognize you.”

“It’s me.” I laugh lightly. “How’ve you been? How is everything?”

“Better than the last time we saw each other, for sure,” he says, giving Mitch a second glance. “I’m Lyle, by the way. I’ll be your server today.”

“You’re going to be our best friend today, Lyle,” Mitch replies and politely slides a couple of hundred-dollar bills across the table.

“Wait, what?” Lyle is understandably confused.

I take the money and slip it into his vest pocket. “I need your help. Can we talk? When’s your next break?”

“Um… Wow, okay, ten minutes?”

“Perfect. Meet you in the back garden?” I reply.

He nods slowly, then proceeds to take our order. “I’m glad to see you’re okay, Melissa. Really. I’d heard some stuff, but I didn’t think it was true. I figured they were confusing you with somebody else.”

“And I heard this place makes the best quiche in town. So, please, don’t prove me wrong,” I reply, smiling as my gaze wanders across the restaurant.

Ten minutes later, I leave Mitch at the table waiting for our food. I head out into the back garden. It’s too cold for anyone to sit here, and the terrace itself is cleared, the tables and chairs stacked in a corner under the roof overhang.

Lyle waits for me in the corner, next to the stack of rattan chairs and tables, looking rather nervous. His eyes keep darting back to the patio door.

“Hey, thanks for taking the time—” I try to speak but he cuts me off.

“Nobody here knows about my past, okay? Please, Melissa.”

“Whoa, wait a moment. Hold on,” I reply, my eyes wide. “I’m not here to cause you any trouble, Lyle, I swear. If anything, I’m just so glad to see you’re doing okay.”

“I am okay,” he sighs. “Better. So much better. I’m renting an apartment. Can you believe it? I can afford rent. No more jumping from one couch to another, no more twisted relationships for a bit of food and shelter.”

I give him a warm smile. “Good. You deserve it. And I’m sorry for bailing on you the way I did.”

“Oh, long forgotten,” he scoffs, almost smiling. “I figured Jake had you hooked on his loving. I couldn’t do anything about it.”

“You did try to warn me. I should’ve listened.”

“What happened to you?” he asks, and I bring him up to speed, as briefly as I can, without mentioning my relationship with Colton, Ethan, and Mitch, and without mentioning my pregnancy. The less he knows about the most intimate layer of my current life, the better. But as he listens to me talking, as the details sink in, I can see the color draining from Lyle’s face.

“Jesus, Melissa. That man is the fucking devil.”

I nod in agreement. “Right now, our working theory is that it was all a frame-up. He planned to screw me over the way he did. And I have been digging into my past, trying to find some common points, some leads to follow. You were around at the time. I’m hoping you might be able to remember something I may have missed.”

“Who were these witnesses again?” he asks, his brow furrowed.

“Laurel Buchanan,” I say, remembering my notes from the trial. “And Bruce Jonesy. I might have known Laurel, but—”

“Hold on,” he gasps, eyes wide as something clicks in the back of his mind. “Laurel. Tall and skinny? Long, black hair and tattoos everywhere?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah, I remember her. She had the word ‘Blessed’ tattooed across her neck. The guys at the cabaret and I used to make fun of it. We called her ‘Little Miss Limited Employment Opportunities’. She was a raving lunatic. Beautiful but dangerously dumb, that girl.”

My heart skips a beat. “You know her.”

“Yeah. Went around, bouncing from one sugar daddy to another. She made ends meet as a working girl sometimes. She was one of us, Melissa. And I think we were all in the same foster home at one point. I was fifteen, you were maybe sixteen. The Frampton house. Yeah, that’s it. We were in the same foster at the Framptons.”

The more he tells me about those times, the more memories emerge from the darkness of my past. Moments I left behind and decided to forget because they were too dark, too miserable and painful. I didn’t want to carry them into my future, into my life as a free woman. But Lyle is right. Laurel and I did cross paths. It wasn’t for long, but we knew one another.

“What possessed her to lie in court about me?” I ask my friend.

Lyle offers a dry smile. “Isn’t it obvious? She was sweet on Jake Miller. And Jake Miller was probably sweet on her. Come on, Mel… The bastard can be charming; let’s give credit where credit is due.”

“Do you know if she’s still around? Or still in Lincoln?”

“No, but you could check the streets around the cabaret,” he says. “They’re still active. You might find her there if she’s down on her luck.”

“We’ll try that, sure… What about that Bruce guy? I really have no idea who he is.”

“Do you remember what he said during the trial?”

“Well, I remember Laurel saying she knew me from when we were kids, that we used to be friends, even though I couldn’t remember her, not really. But Bruce… I can’t for the life of me remember even meeting him.”

Lyle thinks about it for a moment. “What did he look like?”

“Bruce was a big, burly guy. Receding hairline, dark hair. Looked like the kind of guy who spent most of his time catfishing women on the internet. Unkempt. Didn’t have much regard for personal hygiene.”

“Beady, brown eyes and the kind of sneer that made your insides squirm,” Lyle groans and rolls his eyes. “Ugh, I know the guy. He used to run the laundromat up on Fourth Street. Where did he say he knew you from?”

“He claimed to be our friend. Mine and Jake’s. Jake confirmed his story, so it was the two of them against me.”

Lyle shakes his head again, this time in sheer disgust. “Bruce used the laundromat as a front to move drugs through Lincoln. We all knew about the place. I stayed away because… well, you know…”

“How long have you been clean now?”

“Four years,” he says.

“I’m proud of you. I really am.”

“And I’m proud of you for doing what you’re doing now. It can’t be easy, especially with the cartel trying to slit your throat. Jesus, Melissa, you sure drew the short stick on this one.”

I shrug lightly. “It’s not like I even saw it coming.”

“Bruce was working with Jake. That much I can tell you for sure. If Jake was moving drugs for the cartel, then he must’ve passed them through Bruce’s laundromat more than once. They did business together. That’s why he testified against you.”

“He knew details about me,” I reply.

“He knew what Jake probably told him,” Lyle says. “I guess you were right about him. You have a better chance of getting the truth out of Laurel if you find her and give her a good shakedown. Bruce will never fold.”

“I agree. If he was in business with Jake, he certainly won’t want to cross the cartel.”

“But Laurel…”

“I might be able to persuade her. She’ll need some incentive, though.”

Lyle gives me a cold smirk. “Do your cool ranch bosses have friends in the Justice Department? ’Cause y’all can just offer her some kind of deal, like no jail time if she confesses to perjuring herself in court. It should be enough.”

“Enough to aid in my case, but not to exonerate me. I need to bring Jake down altogether. I need proof that he planned the entire operation to frame me.”

“Well, Laurel may be dangerously stupid by nature, but even she has her limits. She kept some kind of evidence of Jake’s evildoing as an insurance policy. That girl’s a rat. The streets raised her, the Framptons abused her… she’s learned how to cover her back over the years. Find her, Melissa. Find her, and you might get closer to what you need.”

“I can’t thank you enough, Lyle.”

“I wish I could do more.”

“You’ve done plenty.”

He glances back at the patio door. “My break is almost over. You should go back in. I’ll bring your dishes in just a bit, alright?”

“Okay. You take care of yourself, yeah?” I tell him. This is probably the last time we’re going to see each other for a while or maybe forever. “I’ll leave you my number, in case you ever want to reach out, in case you need anything.”

Lyle cups my cheek and gives me a soft, warm smile. “You take care of yourself first, honey. Don’t you worry about me. I made it this far, right?”

The rest of our lunch at the Troubadour is quiet but delicious. Once we’re done eating, we bid Lyle farewell and leave him a generous tip along with the tab, then head out.

With all the information we’ve gathered so far, Mitch and I decide to survey the cabaret neighborhood and see if we can get a line on Laurel. Maybe, like Lyle said, she’s down on her luck again.

“How does it feel meeting up with an old friend like Lyle?” Mitch asks as we’re cruising through the neighborhood in the late afternoon. It’s getting dark, and the street lamps have come on, casting their warm glow over the snow-covered streets. It’s getting colder, too, as the moon is swallowed by winter clouds.

“It was weird at first,” I say, comfortable in the passenger seat next to Mitch. “I felt guilty, to be honest, for leaving him behind, for letting life get between us. Lyle is a wonderful guy. Stayed true to himself despite his slipups. I’m just happy to see he made it and that he found balance and is doing better.”

“You’re doing better, too.”

“I’m serving what’s left of a five-year prison sentence cooking on a ranch,” I reply, then immediately burst into wholehearted laughter. “Granted, I’m also in love with three amazing men and trying not to get myself killed by the cartel. We can agree it’s sort of a mixed bag, right?”

“That’s one way of looking at things. Hold on,” Mitch replies and pulls over.

Up ahead, on the right side, I see the main entrance of the former cabaret.

The strip club is still open. Red lights adorn the front door along with stylized posters of the current dancers. I see two big, brawny bouncers standing outside and plenty of people moving up and down the street. Some stop by, a few manage to get in. The rest just glance at the doors, admiring the posters before they continue walking.

Farther down the road, on the corner of 12th Street, I recognize a deal going down. One guy slips a roll of cash to another guy. Something else reaches the first guy’s jacket pocket. It’s all too familiar. Sickening. Sad.

“What did you just say?” Mitch asks, pulling me out of my silent analysis of a street I used to roam many winters ago.

“Huh?”

He leans closer, smiling softly as his eyes settle on my lips for a moment. “You’re in love with three amazing men?”

“Well, yeah,” I mumble, my face feeling hot. I didn’t even register the impact my words would have in this situation. But I won’t take them back. It’s how I feel, and life is short and messy enough. I’m not going to lie, especially given the secret I’m carrying in my womb. “I’m in love…”

“I had no idea Sammy, Kyle, and Jason would touch your heart like that,” Mitch replies.

I gasp and playfully slap him across the shoulder. He laughs and pulls me into a deep kiss. The kind of kiss that tells me more than his words could ever convey. I feel him, I feel his heart beating next to mine. Hell, I feel Colton and Ethan through him as well. I feel them all in my very soul, turning me inside out and making me a better woman with each passing day.

“I’m sure you know the feeling is mutual,” Mitch says, his lips brushing mine. “We’re head over heels for you, Melissa.”

“What men in their right minds would go on this wild goose chase with me?” I laugh lightly and kiss the tip of his nose. “I kind of figured it out the minute you told me I’m one of yours, then you proceeded to refuse to let me run away, even though it would’ve saved you a heap of trouble.”

“Oh, you figured it out then,” Mitch raises an eyebrow.

I can’t help but smile. “I might not seem very bright, but I can put two and two together.”

“Melissa, you are one of the sharpest women I’ve ever met. Don’t ever sell yourself short,” he says, then kisses me again. This time, I feel his hunger and his longing, too. Were it not for our location and our mission, clothes would be flying off without a care in the world.

“We’re going to do everything in our power to keep you safe, you hear me?” he asks, as if reading my mind.

“I hear you, babe,” I reply with a loving smile.

By midnight, we meet Colton and Ethan in Ainsworth.

There’s a bar open late, and it’s pretty empty at this hour. The weather isn’t too friendly, as snow keeps falling and adding a new crisp layer of white on top of everything. But we have a few moments before we hit the road again, and we do need to go over all the intel we’ve gathered throughout the day.

“No trace of Laurel, but we did talk to a few guys. They said we should come around on the weekends, when business picks up a bit,” Mitch tells his brothers. “In this cold-ass winter, even the working girls stay off the streets.”

“Everything’s done online anyway,” Colton scoffs. “Pimps and hookers are getting with the times. We’ll have to try that angle, too.”

Ethan nods slowly. “We’ll talk to Sheriff Kavanaugh as well. If Laurel’s still in the business, then she’s probably gotten herself arrested a few times. There should be a record, an address, some lead to follow until we find her.”

“And Bruce?” Colton asks.

I shake my head. “No luck. The laundromat shut down shortly after the trial ended. And no one’s seen the guy around. It’s like he vanished.”

“Chances are he did, in fact, vanish,” Mitch mutters. “The cartel might’ve cut him loose, so to speak, or Jake.”

“I don’t know. Jake is a terrible human being, but I can’t imagine him killing anyone,” I say.

“Do not underestimate a desperate man, Melissa,” Ethan warns me.

“What about Ainsworth PD?” I ask Ethan and Colton. “Any luck there?”

“Actually, yes,” Colton replies and shows me a few photos he took on his phone. “Meet Officer Orlando Reyes.”

I remember him. He was one of the arresting officers in my case. Just the sight of him makes my stomach churn and my blood run cold. “I know him,” I say with a trembling voice. “He and his partner were the ones who arrested me.”

“He was also the co-captain of the Star Spanglers, Ridgemont High’s football team,” Colton replies, his eyes on me. “Guess who he co-captained with.”

“You’re kidding,” I gasp. “Jake?”

“Jake Miller himself, yeah.”

“That was our inside guy, then,” Mitch concludes. “What do we know about Officer Reyes?”

Colton goes through his phone, but I’m not sure I like the sour look on his face. “Not the most exemplary record. He got a few citations and complaints filed against him, but he was in charge of evidentiary lockup for the Ainsworth Police Department until a few months ago.”

“What happened?” I ask.

“He’s had a fatal accident,” he says. “Died in a car crash. Horrible way to go, I imagine. I think that’s why Jake was so desperate to get to you, Melissa.”

“We spoke to Reyes’ colleagues,” Ethan adds. “That cocaine was destroyed at the end of the year. He missed his precious window, so was short with the cartel and was trying to survive because it all went to shit.”

“It blew up in his face,” Colton says. “Had Reyes gotten the drugs out before they were destroyed, Jake would’ve had his ticket out of here.”

“But he didn’t because he died,” I mumble.

“So Jake had to figure out another way to get out from under the cartel’s heavy boot. Once he learned about you getting into the Path to Freedom Initiative, he knew he had one last shot to keep the whole thing pinned on you while also keeping the cartel off his back,” Colton says. “He’s probably still moving drugs for them, facilitating deals and whatnot, but the cartel is short two million dollars’ worth of cocaine. Jake is playing a stupid game here.”

“You know what they say about stupid games,” Ethan sighs, glancing down at his glass.

“Stupid prizes or not, I’m still legally responsible,” I say. “How do we get closer to the truth, then? I need to find Laurel, right? That has to be it.”

“Or we find a way to comb through Reyes’ personal life, his bank accounts, his home,” Mitch suggests. “There’s got to be something there.”

Time is running out.

Colton covers my hand with his. “Don’t despair, Melissa. We’re getting closer to the truth.”

“Are we, though?” I scoff, lowering my gaze. There is comfort in his touch, yet the dangers surrounding us are too imposing, too frightening to overlook. “We have no witnesses, no physical evidence. We have stories, memories, but nothing that will hold up in court, especially with Reyes. The last thing Ainsworth PD will ever corroborate is that they had a corrupt cop on their payroll.”

“We are closer today than we were yesterday,” Colton insists. “We may not be able to find Bruce, but we still have a chance to find Laurel. Rest assured, we’re going to dig through Reyes’ stuff, too, until we find something. Jake is anything but a criminal mastermind, Melissa. He caught a few lucky breaks, that’s all.”

“We’ll find something,” Ethan says. “They’re not invincible, not the cartel and certainly not that cowardly prick. We’ll bring him down one way or another.”

And while I would like nothing more than to blindly believe them, part of me knows there’s always that one chance, no matter how slim, that things will not go the way we want them to go.

Running away is still an option, but it’s also the worst option. I’d be putting myself in too much danger on top of the danger already there. At least I’m relatively safe at the ranch. We’ve got neighbors who are willing and eager to help, the sheriff and his deputies, too.

“What about that DEA investigator?” I ask, remembering snippets of our last conversation with Kavanaugh.

“He’s tripping over red tape with the Justice Department,” Mitch mutters. “But he is trying to open a RICO operating point in Long Pine. If he gets that going, we’ll have a few more boots on the ground to work with if the cartel tries to come after you again.”

I need to go to church and light a candle for my sorry ass. For all the progress Colton says we’ve made, I feel like we’re struggling up a creek without a paddle.