Page 64 of Axe-identally Married
Parker stood and shuffled to my side, her attention focused on the name. “Where? When?”
I scratched my head. “Not sure. When I was planning RiverFest, I had to look up a bunch of stuff in the archives. Maybe there? Maybe not, but that name is familiar. I’m pretty certain it’s connected to this town.”
Eyes closed, I took a deep breath and willed my brain to connect the dots. I’d seen it. Somewhere random. While doing something routine. But I lost the thread, came up empty. Fuck.
“Okay. That’s still helpful,” Parker said, pacing with her hands on her hips. “This is the first lead we’ve had on this.”
Lips pursed, I studied the whiteboard again, looking at the list of dates and dollar amounts, but nothing jumped out at me.
“Could it be a creditor?” I asked.
She shook her head. “There’s money going in and coming out.”
“So…” I trailed off, unsure of why this was so significant.
“Probably money laundering. Your father may have been using the timber business to launder money for another criminal organization.”
Money laundering?That term landed like a punch to the gut.
“And the fire?” I croaked. “The threats?”
“All possibly connected.”
Damn. There were people still out there. We knew that. And we knew there were threats. But all this information really made it come into focus.
“I’ll find out,” I said quickly. “I’ll get to the bottom of Deimos.”
If there was a chance my family was in danger, then I’d do what I could to protect them. For so long, I’d assumed the fire in the shop had been set by a disgruntled employee. But Gus and Owen had been right. There was a hell of a lot more to this.
My head spun at the implication. I’d been so naïve. So consumed by my own bullshit that I’d failed to register that actual threats to my family existed. Threats that affected Merry, Thor, and Gus and Chloe’s baby. Debbie too. And even my mom.
When would this shit end? When would we be free of my father’s poisoned legacy? I’d spent all my therapy sessions hashing out my childhood shit, consumed with my own problems, while there was a criminal organization lurking in the shadows.
“Are you okay?” Parker asked.
I swallowed back the bile rising in my throat. “No. I’m not.” I grabbed my jacket. “I’ve got to get to practice, but I will find Deimos. I swear.”
She patted my shoulder and smiled up at me. “Investigations take time, Cole. I’m working through this. And you’ve been a huge help.”
That was debatable. But I could do more. I would do more.
I left, my shoulders weighed down by the shame of being a self-centered prick, and hopped into my truck. It was time for hockey practice.
Chapter Twenty-One
Willa
Ipulled my coat around my body tighter. I’d come straight from work, so I was wearing my lovely professional wool peacoat. It was clearly no match for January in Maine or a Tuesday night at the Lovewell Arena.
But the longer I watched Cole coach these little girls, the warmer I felt.
He was adorable, with his backward hat and the whistle hanging around his neck.
The girls looked so tiny standing next to him, even in all their giant pads.
I’d always been a hockey fan—I was raised in northern Maine, after all—so it wasn’t difficult to follow along.
He ran drills, wrangling the girls with more ease than I could have imagined between water breaks. Most of the time, when his back was turned, the girls shot pucks.
