Page 59 of Reclaimed Roots

Chase swiveled around, his eyes meeting ours with a mixture of guilt and defiance. I bit the inside of my cheek and forced down my rising frustration.

"Let's go!" Andy snapped, clearly at the end of his patience.

Suddenly, the department door swung open with a bang, and I winced as our father strode in, his face a thundercloud of anger. Chase, now looking sincerely chastised, shuffled towards the exit with his head bowed.

Dad's voice was low and controlled, but I could hear the undercurrent of fury. "Chase. Truck. Now."

"Yes, sir," Chase mumbled, slinking past us like a dog with its tail between its legs.

As he left, Dad turned to Andy, the hard edge gone from his voice. "Thank you, Andrew. We'll be sure to make a generous donation to the Sable Point PD for your assistance today."

Andy waved him off, his expression a mix of exasperation and concern. "Don't worry about it, Mr. E. Just... get him in line, will ya? I'd hate to actually have to lock him up next time."

Dad shared a worried look with Elliot. I was pretty sure I was wearing a matching expression. This wasn't the first time Chase had pushed the limits, and I had a feeling it wouldn't be the last.

This can't beright.

I blinked hard and rubbed at my eyes.

Fuck, I'm tired.

The events of last night replayed in my mind—Chase's slurred voice, the fluorescent glare of the police station, the disappointment on Mom's face.

Focus, dammit.Dad had asked me to find some money to donate to the police department, so I forced my attention back to the computer screen, squinting at the neat rows of figures. Something was off. I couldn't quite put my finger on it, but a nagging sense of wrongness tugged at the edges of my mind.

I got up and cracked open a window. The refreshing scent of apple blossoms drifted in, chasing away the fug of coffee and desperation that permeated the barn. Outside, I could hear the distant rumble of tractors, the steady rhythm of life on the orchard continuing despite the chaos swirling in my head.

Sighing, I returned to the desk and slumped back into my chair, the ancient leather creaking in protest. I pulled out more records, spreading them across the scarred surface of the desk. Ed's voice echoed in my memory:"The devil's in the details, son."I traced my finger along the screen.

There. A series of small inconsistencies, barely noticeable on their own, but when added together...

A dull, heavy feeling hit my stomach, like a rock plopping into a lake. Blind panic seized me as I stared at the spreadsheet, willing the numbers to rearrange themselves.There has to be an explanation.

I reached for my phone and scrolled through my contacts. My fingers hovered over Natalie's name.Should I involve her in this mess?The memory of her bright, carefree smile over the last few weeks surfaced in my mind. I hated to bring her down, but she was the only one who could help. I needed her.

JASPER

Hey, Nat. You at the office? Need to run something by you.

I set the phone down and wiped my sweaty palms on my jeans. The silence stretched, broken only by the gentle ticking of the ancient clock on the wall. Each second felt like an eternity as I waited for her response.

What if she's with another client? What if she's too busy? What if?—

The buzz of the phone startled me from my panicked reverie. I snatched it up, my heart pounding as I read her reply.

NATALIE

Just got in. What's up?

JASPER

It'll take a while to explain. Can I come by?

NATALIE

Sure. There's something I want to talk to you about too.

A minute later, the truck roared to life as I turned thekey. My mind raced as I pulled out onto the dusty road.What am I going to say to her? How do I even begin to explain this mess?

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