Chapter 18

EIGHTEEN

The aroma of simmering beef and vegetables filled the cozy kitchen, blending with the fading light of the evening. Evelyn Hartwell stirred the pot, occasionally checking out of the window. Outside, the sun was sinking behind the pine trees, casting long shadows that reached across the room, the warm, muted glow of twilight settling in. It was peaceful here, nestled in the foothills, where the world seemed far away.

Today’s events shattered that illusion.

Evelyn glanced over at Chloe, who sat quietly at the worn oak table, her chin resting in her palms as she watched Liam shuffle a deck of cards. He had insisted on following them home after the incident, his protective instincts in overdrive. Now, he was keeping Chloe entertained while Evelyn prepped dinner, providing a much-needed distraction.

As she turned back to the stove, Evelyn’s gaze landed on the blood sugar monitor resting on the counter. She’d checked Chloe’s levels only a few minutes ago. It was a subconscious habit born from fear. Her daughter had nearly died before the doctor had figured out her condition. She’d spent years blaming herself. She’d spend the rest of her life making sure her daughter was safe, a debt she planned to pay in full.

Her eyes flicked to Chloe, who giggled as Liam fumbled a card trick, her cheeks flushed with the carefree joy of a child.

Liam grinned, his fingers effortlessly moving through the cards. “Ever tried poker, Chloe?”

Chloe shook her head, her voice small. “I haven’t.”

Liam’s grin widened, a chipped front tooth giving him an easy charm. “No problem. I’ll teach you. Just don’t let the sheriff know I’m corrupting you.”

For the first time since they’d returned home, a smile tugged at Chloe’s lips. She drummed her fingers lightly on the table. “It’s just ... all this weird stuff happening, I’m tired of it.” Her voice was quiet but steady. “But I’m glad you’re here, Liam.”

Liam reached over and ruffled her hair in a brotherly way. “You’re tough, Chloe. You’ll get through this. Trust me.”

Evelyn glanced over her shoulder, a warmth spreading in her chest. It was good to see Chloe coming back to life, even if just for a moment. Liam’s steady presence was like a lifeline, and Evelyn was grateful.

The phone rang, cutting through the peace. Evelyn wiped her hands on a dish towel and answered, already knowing who it would be.

“Ms. Hartwell? It’s Dr. Hensley,” came the familiar voice of her employer, the town veterinarian. “I hate to ask, but my mother took a bad fall. She’s in the hospital and I need to go be with her. Do you mind closing up the clinic tonight? Just check on the animals, make sure everything’s locked up?”

Evelyn hesitated, glancing at the bubbling stew, then at Chloe and Liam. It wasn’t ideal, but Dr. Hensley had been good to her. This job kept her dream of someday attending veterinary school alive.

“Of course,” Evelyn said, pushing down the reluctance. “I’ll take care of everything. I hope your mom’s okay.”

“Thank you,” Hensley replied, his relief palpable. “I owe you one.”

She hung up, her mind already spinning. Dinner would have to wait, but the stew could simmer. She turned to Chloe. “Sweetheart, I need to head out for a bit. Just to check on things at the clinic.”

Chloe’s face fell, her disappointment clear. “Do you have to?”

Evelyn knelt beside her, brushing a lock of hair from Chloe’s face. “I’ll be back before you know it. Liam’s here, so you won’t have to be alone.”

Evelyn straightened and turned to Liam. “Would it be too much trouble for you to stick around until I get back?”

Liam, surprised but willing, said, “No trouble at all, Ms. Hartwell. I’ve got it.”

Relief flooded through her. “Thanks. The stew just needs another hour. Turn off the burner when the timer goes off and move the pot off the heat. You two can go ahead and eat.” She wiped her hands again, more out of habit than necessity, scanning the room to make sure everything was in order. “And Chloe, don’t forget to brush your teeth before bed. I’ll be back in time to tuck you in, okay?”

Chloe did her best to hide the disappointment. “Okay.”

Evelyn leaned down and kissed her forehead. “I’ll be quick.”

Evelyn grabbed her jacket from the hook by the door and stepped out into the evening, the cool air wrapping around her like a cloak. The scent of pine and damp earth filled her senses as the night settled in. Their house sat on the edge of the foothills, far enough from town to feel remote but close enough for a sense of community. A small stream ran along the back of the property, its gurgling flow a constant companion to the quiet evenings. Tonight, though, the sound seemed louder, as if the world was holding its breath.

She made her way to the car, pausing for a moment to look back at the house. Warm light spilled from the kitchen window, illuminating the interior where Liam and Chloe were seated across from each other.

Evelyn climbed into the driver’s seat, gripping the wheel as the engine rumbled to life. She couldn’t shake the unease from earlier. The feeling clung to her. The incident at the hotel had rattled her in ways she wasn’t ready to admit, and the thought of leaving Chloe—even with Liam there—gnawed at her.

But there was no avoiding it. Duty called. With the lapse in insurance, the extra hours on this week’s paycheck would be a welcome addition. Her husband’s life insurance policy had enabled her to pay down their mortgage. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have been able to keep it going. Now, Beauregard Covington was trying to take their home away. She pushed the thought from her mind.

The headlights cut through the gloom as Evelyn pulled onto the narrow road leading toward town. The darkness closed in around her, the quiet of the night pressing in, broken only by the hum of the engine. In the distance, the lights of the town twinkled faintly, barely visible through the trees.

A shiver ran down her spine as the feeling of being watched crept back in, a gnawing sensation she couldn’t quite shake. The mountains seemed different tonight, less protective and more foreboding, as if they, too, were hiding secrets.

Bishop crouched in the shadow of a craggy outcropping, his eyes cutting through the mist-shrouded New Hampshire mountains. Rain fell in a steady, relentless sheet, soaking into his clothes despite every effort to stay dry. He’d been entrenched here for hours, hidden far from his abandoned vehicle, knowing the rugged terrain was his best chance to remain unseen. Leaving even the faintest trace in his line of work could mean the difference between vanishing into the night or ending up in a body bag.

Beneath the jagged rocks, Bishop had dug a shallow pit for his fire—a flicker of heat without smoke, a technique he’d perfected over years of survival. The flames were hot enough to cook the brook trout he'd caught earlier from a mountain stream, the scent of the fish barely detectable in the damp forest surrounding him. He had fashioned a crude spit from branches to cook it evenly, every action executed with quiet precision. For Bishop, survival wasn’t just instinct. It was an art.

His jacket and boots lay near the pit, slowly drying in the meager heat. But the damp chill still gnawed at him, a reminder of his exposure to the elements. He barely noticed. Discomfort was an old companion, one he'd learned to embrace. He focused on his gear, sharpening his knife by the firelight. Each stroke was measured, each moment a preparation for the next move. The wilderness was his element. He could stay out here indefinitely, becoming part of the landscape whenever he needed to.

The sudden beep from his encrypted phone cut through the steady drum of rain. Bishop moved his hand with practiced speed, retrieving the device from his vest. The screen illuminated his face in the twilight gloom, casting sharp shadows across his scarred features.

No extract. Secondary target. Encrypted file sent.

Bishop’s jaw tightened as he tapped the screen. A photograph materialized—a woman’s face, partially obscured by shadow but clear enough to recognize. He stared at it for a long moment, his mind running through the implications. The mission had changed, and there was no room for hesitation.