Page 26 of Forgiveness River

One by one, family members began sharing observations—unusual vehicles with out-of-state plates, strange activity at night near the lake, tourists whose wealth seemed suspicious.

“Tommy heard something interesting from one of the fishing guides,” Simone continued. “Apparently there’s been unusual activity around the old Murphy cabin. Lights at odd hours, vehicles coming and going.”

Wyatt kept his expression neutral, though his pulse quickened. His family was unknowingly providing intelligence on Moss’s operation.

“And Anne—” Mick turned to his wife, “—didn’t you mention overhearing something at The Lampstand the other day? About a delivery?”

Anne nodded. “Two men at the counter. I wasn’t eavesdropping, but they weren’t exactly being discreet. Something about ‘the biggest shipment yet’ coming through next week. I assumed they were talking about restaurant supplies until one mentioned how much money they stood to make.”

Wyatt’s eyes met Blaze’s across the table, a silent confirmation passing between them. This matched the DEA’s intelligence exactly—the shipment timeline had been confirmed by an independent source.

“This town has changed,” Mick said, shaking his head. “When I was a boy, everyone knew everyone. Now we’ve got all these strangers passing through, and not all of them are here for the mountain air.”

“That’s why we need to keep these Sunday dinners going,” Tommy added, nodding at his brother, Mick. “Keep the family connected no matter what changes come to Laurel Valley.”

“Still,” Hank said, “that’s the price of becoming a destination. More tourism means more opportunities—legitimate and otherwise.”

Blaze set his glass down firmly, commanding the table’s attention with the authority that came naturally to him as sheriff. “I appreciate everyone’s observations, but I need to be clear about something,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “If any of you see suspicious activity, report it directly to me or Wyatt. Do not investigate on your own, do not approach anyone you think might be involved in something illegal, and for heaven’s sake, don’t discuss your theories around town.”

His eyes circled the table, making contact with each family member. “Whatever’s happening could be dangerous. The last thing I need is well-meaning O’Haras playing amateur detective and getting hurt—or worse, compromising an ongoing investigation.”

Wyatt nodded in agreement. “Blaze is right. Keep your eyes open, but keep your distance and your observations to yourselves. This isn’t a mystery novel—it’s real, and it could be dangerous.”

The conversation continued, but Wyatt felt a weight lift slightly from his shoulders. His family had pieced together enough to understand that something serious was happening, even if they didn’t know the details. And more importantly, they were backing off, giving him the space he needed to handle both his professional and personal crises.

As coffee and dessert were served, Blaze moved to sit beside him, speaking low enough that only Wyatt could hear.

“Kwan called me this morning,” he said. “They’ve got confirmation on the shipment route. Trucks coming in through the north pass, then transferring to smaller vehicles at the Murphy cabin.”

“When?” Wyatt asked, tension coiling in his gut.

“Three days from now,” Blaze replied. “They’re moving the timeline up. Seems they’re getting nervous.”

Wyatt nodded, processing the information. “I’ve got a meeting with Moss tomorrow night. He’s expecting me to clear the routes.”

“Be careful,” Blaze cautioned. “I don’t like how he’s been watching Raven’s shop. Could be he’s suspicious, using her to get to you.”

The thought sent a chill through Wyatt. “I’ve had deputies drive by regularly, but they can’t be there all the time without raising questions.”

“I can increase patrols,” Blaze offered. “Make it look routine, festival security follow-up.”

“Thanks,” Wyatt said. Then, after a pause: “How is she?”

Blaze’s expression softened. “Holding up. Stubborn as ever. Reminds me of someone else I know.”

A ghost of a smile touched Wyatt’s lips. “She’s got every right to be angry.”

“She does,” Blaze agreed. “But she loves you. And once this is over and you can explain everything…”

“If she’ll still listen,” Wyatt said, the fear that had been haunting him finally spoken aloud.

“She will,” Blaze assured him. “The O’Haras are known for our second chances. It’s practically a family tradition.”

As the evening wound down, Wyatt found himself cornered by his mother in the kitchen while helping with dishes—a transparent ploy to get him alone, but one he didn’t have the heart to avoid.

“I won’t ask you to tell me what’s going on,” Anne said, handing him a plate to dry. “But I will ask you this—are you being careful?”

“As careful as I can be,” he answered honestly.

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