Page 83 of Montana Memory

And Hunter… God, they’d probably ask about him too. Why he was helping me. How well we knew each other. If he had any connection to Alan. I was scrambling through what I thought I could say, trying to find pieces that might help me put together answers that didn’t make me look guilty—or stupid.

But it ended up I didn’t need any of it, because they didn’t ask.

Johnson flipped another page in his folder. “Did Alan ever mention anyone he might’ve been afraid of? Someone who had it out for him?”

I blinked. “No. Not that I know of.”

Kelly scribbled something in his notes. “What about any recent arguments? Maybe someone he had problems with in prison?”

“He never mentioned anything like that to me that I recall.”

They both nodded like that was enough. Then Johnson closed the folder with a soft thud and stood.

“All right. That’s all we needed.”

I frowned. “That’s it?”

Kelly stood too, casual as anything. “Like we tried to tell you earlier, these were just routine questions. We’re finalizing the file on Alan Ard’s case. Needed to check a couple boxes, that’s all.”

Routine.

Johnson offered a polite smile. “You’re free to go.”

Just like that.

They walked out, suits shifting, footsteps fading behind the heavy door—and left me sitting there blinking like I’d been hit with something I didn’t see coming.

A few minutes later, Lachlan stepped inside, his posture relaxed, but his eyes scanned me fast—cop-like—before softening just a touch.

“You ready to go?”

I nodded and stood, muscles protesting from sitting so stiffly. “Yeah.”

He didn’t say anything else until we were back outside, the late-afternoon sun casting long shadows across the lot. It felt good to breathe air that didn’t taste like Lysol and nerves. He led me to his SUV, opened the passenger door, and waited until I was in before circling around to the driver’s side.

We pulled out of the lot in silence, the hum of the tires against the road the only sound for a while.

Then Lachlan glanced over, one hand on the wheel. “I was listening in through the mirror. Just so you know—you did good. You kept it honest. Straightforward.”

A beat passed before he added, “You’ve got no reason to worry.”

I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. “You really think so?”

“I do. Maybe Johnson and Kelly are just thorough. Old-school types. Drove eight hours from Colorado for what could’ve been a ten-minute call. But they got what they came for.” He shrugged. “They’ll be on their way out soon enough. I don’t think you have anything more to worry about.”

That quieted the low buzz of panic that had been rattling in the back of my skull since they’d first shown up at Pawsitive Connections. I pressed my palms to my thighs, trying to ground myself. “Thanks for saying that. And for…being there.”

He turned onto the gravel drive that led to the cabin. “You’re one of us now, Jada. And we look out for our own.”

I nodded, my throat too tight to say much more, as he put his vehicle in park and I got out. “Thanks, Lachlan.”

He tipped his head toward the cabin. “Get some rest. You’ve earned it. When will Hunter be back?”

“Tomorrow.” And I couldn’t wait.

As Lachlan’s department SUV rumbled back down the gravel drive, I stepped inside the cabin and shut the door behind me, leaning against it for just a second. The wood was warm from the afternoon sun.

I’d made it through the police interview. Hunter would be back by this time tomorrow, and we’d be able to go through all the stuff from my old life.

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