Page 55 of Home Town Knight

“She was a witness to the situation involving the Rigsbys last year. My family. Her name was there in my reports.”

“Yeah, I realized that’s where I’d seen it. And there was another woman from Hartley involved in the prosecution of a human trafficking ring.” I racked my memory. I could’ve searched my notes on my phone, but I didn’t want to break my train of thought. “Her name was distinctive. Serenity or something. She’d escaped the cult, and she was a key witness against them. Your official report kept her identity vague. Alotof details were vague.”

Could that have been Scarlett?

“It was vague for her protection. And the protection of the other victims.”

“Much of the court record was sealed. The culprits pled guilty. No trial. No need for the witnesses to testify because an anonymous data dump had provided police with all their documents. But the ringleader, Dawson Witkins, disappeared shortly before his compound was raided.”

“The official reports are out there,” he said evenly.

“I read them and emailed your office with additional questions, which you didn’t answer. I thought some corrupt official, probablyyou, had tipped off the cult leader so he could get away.”

“I didn’t.”

“I believe that now. But do you know what happened to Witkins? Yes or no.”

“For certain? No. I don’t.”

“You must have a theory, though. Otherwise you’d be searching for him. You wouldn’t let him get away with what he’d done. In less than two days, I know you well enough to trust that.”

Owen’s poker face was good. Yet I still spotted a twitch in his mouth. Like he wanted to say something, but was holding himself back.

“Someone got rid of Witkins.” I didn’t expect Owen to confirm or deny, but suddenly I was sure of it. A dozen smaller pieces slid home. A picture that was obvious now that I looked at it and saw it for what it was. “They’re not just protecting people up at Last Refuge. They’re going after the victimizers so they can’t hurt others.”

Owen exhaled. It was a resigned sound. Like he had known I might connect these pieces.

The shocking thing was that he hadn’t tried to stop me.

“What if you’re right?” he asked. “What if someone rid the world of a trafficker of girls and women? All it means is that the scumbag can’t destroy more lives. I wouldn’t cry for him.”

“Neither would I.”

His lips curved with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “But it’s a good story, what you’re suggesting. The kind of story you came to Hartley to find. Right? Some kind of conspiracy. Only it’s a group of ex-military vigilantes protecting innocent people using any means necessary, and a sheriff who’s stuck somewhere in between. Trying to uphold the laws he swore to protect, while knowing justice doesn’t always serve those who most need it.”

“You still think I’d jump at any juicy story? Regardless of who it might hurt?”

“You’re staying in my house. I wanted you to share my bed. What does that tell you?”

“But you left that barrier between us. A neutral zone.”

“For your benefit as much as mine.”

I crossed the small kitchen. Just a few feet. But it felt like I was crossing a gulf that still lay between us. I rested my hands on Owen’s shirt over his stomach, feeling his musclestensing. “Scarlett said something to me yesterday.Sometimes life only comes in shades of gray. And the rules have to bend to keep everything else from breaking.”

His gaze was level on mine. A challenge. But there was also sadness underneath. I’d seen it in the hotel bar, a little glimpse of the true Owen before I’d even known his real name.

My touch slid upward, over the swell of his pecs and his rapidly beating heart. He’d seemed so calm as we talked about things that could upend his life. His friends’ lives. But that racing heartbeat gave him away.

“They’re more than friends to you,” I said. “They’re your family. Jessi and Scarlett made that clear. You want to protect them.”

“Can you blame me?”

“Never. I wouldn’t blame you for that.” My hands kept lifting until they rested on either side of his stubbled face. His strong jaw. My thumb skimmed the plump curve of his lower lip. “But you don’t have to protect them fromme. I won’t hurt anyone you love.”

He made a sound in his throat. Palmed my hips and drew me closer. Owen widened his stance so he stood lower, leaning against the counter behind him. Our stomachs met. Chests. Hearts. The tips of our noses brushed.

We’d been saying, over and over, that we were going to trust one another. But this was the first moment that I actually felt it, deep down. “You had to know I’d start figuring things out when you showed me that background check.”

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