Page 78 of Montana Justice

“Ray texted,” I said, the words tumbling out. “He knows the watch stopped working. I don’t know what to tell him. I don’t know?—”

Lachlan crossed to me in three strides. No hesitation, just purpose. He pulled the phone from my pocket and read the message, his expression growing even harder.

“We need to call him.”

“What?” The word came out strangled.

“Travis is set up to trace the call. We need Ray talking long enough to help triangulate part of his location.” His voice was all business, cold efficiency replacing the warmth I’d grown accustomed to. “I’ll coach you through it.”

“Lachlan—”

“This is about Sadie. Nothing else matters right now.”

The words were hard, cutting, carving out what was left of my heart. But I couldn’t argue. He was right. Our daughter came first. Whatever was left of us—if anything—would have to wait.

He pulled out his phone, pressing a number to dial. “Travis? We’re ready.” A pause followed while Lachlan listened. “Good. We’ll call in two minutes.”

Two minutes. My chest tightened, lungs forgetting how to expand properly.

Lachlan turned back to me, his expression clinical. Like I was a witness he needed to prep, not the woman who’d shared his bed last night. “When he asks about the watch, tell him I got it wet doing dishes and we’re letting it dry out. Meanwhile, you’ll call more often with updates. Got it?”

I nodded, throat too tight for words.

“Be convincing. He needs to believe everything is fine, that you’re still his good little spy.” The bitterness in his voice made me flinch. “Can you do that?”

“Yes.” The word came out as barely a whisper.

“Tell him that we’re in a tizzy after last night’s debacle and that I mentioned focusing all our efforts east of town. That we’re positive they’re working out of Billings and want to focus our efforts in that direction.”

“Okay.”

“Good. Sit down. You need to sound normal, not like you’re about to panic.”

I sank onto the couch, legs unsteady. The cushions felt wrong now, like they belonged to someone else’s life.

Lachlan sat on the coffee table facing me, close enough that our knees almost touched. Close enough that I could see the pain he was trying to hide behind determination.

“Breathe,” he ordered. “In through your nose, out through your mouth. That’s it.”

My hands wouldn’t stop shaking. Violent tremors that started in my fingers and worked their way up my arms. He noticed—of course he noticed, he noticed everything—and covered them with his own. The touch wasn’t gentle, wasn’t comforting. Just steadying. Practical. His hands were warm and solid, callused from work, familiar in a way that made my chest ache.

“You can do this,” he said, his voice softer now. “For Sadie.”

For Sadie. I could do anything for her. Walk through fire. Sell my soul. Pretend my heart wasn’t shattered beyond repair.

“Okay, it’s time.”

I dialed Ray’s number with fumbling fingers, nearly dropping the phone twice. Speaker on. The dial tone seemed impossibly loud in the quiet room. One ring. Two. My heart hammered against my ribs hard enough to hurt.

“About fucking time,” Ray snarled before I could speak. The sound of his voice made bile rise in my throat. “What the hell is going on? I haven’t gotten any info from the watch in hours.”

“The watch stopped working.” I forced my voice steady, apologetic but not panicked. I’d learned long ago that showing fear to Ray was like bleeding in shark-infested waters. “Lachlan was doing dishes and forgot to take it off. Got it completely soaked.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? That was expensive equipment!”

“I know, I’m sorry.” My voice cracked slightly, and Lachlan squeezed my hands. A reminder. Stay strong. “He feels terrible about it. We’re letting it dry out. Hopefully then it will be fine.”

Lachlan nodded encouragement, his dark eyes never leaving my face. Even now, even hating me, he was my anchor.

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