Page 68 of Montana Justice

Missed the first time she rolled over. First time she held her head up on her own. Slept through the night.

All the things Caleb had done, I’d wondered if Sadie had done too.

“She’ll be sitting up,” Ray had told me last week, casual as discussing the weather. “Determined little thing. Must get that from you. Though hopefully not your stupid streak.”

I’d missed it all. Would miss all the other milestones too.

Black spots danced at the edges of my vision. My knees buckled, hands slipping from the stall door. The splinters tore free, taking skin with them. I heard Lark calling my name, heard the horses shifting nervously, but it all seemed very far away.

Underwater. I was drowning in barn air, drowning in the scent of hay and horses and milk that should have been feeding two human babies instead of two foals.

“Please,” I’d begged Ray just last week. “Just let me see her. Just once. I’ll do anything.”

“You’re already doing everything,” he’d said. “Don’t get greedy, Piper. Greedy mothers lose everything.”

But I’d already lost everything. Lost Sadie. Lost myself. Now I was losing Lachlan too, one betrayal at a time. That watch on his wrist, counting down our destruction with every tick.

The barn floor rushed up to meet me. Hay scattered under my hands as I tried to catch myself, but my arms had no strength. Pine shavings pressed into my palms, sharp and real. The smell of horses and grain and morning filled my nostrils as everything inside me went haywire.

“Piper! Oh God, someone help!” Lark’s voice, high and frightened. Her hands on my shoulders, trying to ease my fall. “Stay with me. Just breathe. Just?—”

But I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think past the image burned into my brain. Two foals. Two babies. One mother who got to keep them both.

The unfairness of it broke something inside me that I’d been holding together with desperation and stubborn hope. I felt itsnap, actually felt it, like a physical thing breaking in my chest. A rib, maybe, or maybe just my heart finally giving up.

Voices now. More than just Lark. Someone talking about calling 911. Someone else saying my name. But they were far away, so far away, and I was falling into darkness that tasted like copper and felt like losing everything.

“Sadie.” Her name escaped on what might have been my last breath. The first time I’d said it aloud since I’d been in Garnet Bend. It burned coming out, like acid on my tongue. “Please… Sadie.”

Gray mist flooded over me. In the mist, I couldn’t see what I’d lost. Couldn’t count the days since I’d held my daughter. Couldn’t feel the watch on Lachlan’s wrist counting down to the moment he’d learn exactly what kind of monster had been sharing his bed.

In the mist, maybe I could pretend that somewhere, somehow, there was still a way to save them all. That Lachlan would forgive me. That Ray would let Sadie go. That I could have both my babies in my arms again.

Then the mist turned to darkness, merciful and complete.

And there was nothing.

Chapter 24

Lachlan

The phone had been gluedto my ear for three hours straight, and every call made me want to throw it through my office window. My voice was hoarse from explaining, defending, apologizing. The abandoned warehouse raid had turned into a jurisdictional nightmare, with every agency involved looking for someone to blame.

“I take full responsibility,” I said for what felt like the hundredth time, this time to the regional DEA director. My jaw ached from clenching it. “The intelligence seemed solid. We followed proper protocols?—”

“Proper protocols don’t result in empty warehouses and wasted resources, Sheriff.” The director’s voice could have frozen hell. “Agent Kowalski’s report suggests your department has a significant security breach.”

I bit back the response I wanted to give. “We’re investigating all possibilities.”

“See that you do. And, Sheriff? Next time you want DEA support, you better have more than rumors and ghost stories.”

The line went dead. I set the phone down carefully, fighting the urge to slam it. Through my office window, Main Street looked deceptively peaceful. Tourists browsed the antique shops. Mrs. Yang arranged flowers in her shop window. Normal people living normal lives, unaware that somewhere in their community, someone was selling death in pill form.

My phone buzzed with a text from Beckett.

Change of plans. Meeting at Travis’s place instead of the office. He insisted.

Of course he did. Travis Hale hadn’t left his compound in the two years since he’d moved to Garnet Bend. Whatever had driven him out of the CIA had left him functional but reclusive, turning his property into a high-tech fortress.

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