Page 50 of Taken from Her
Diana looked at Lavender’s face, at the intelligence and strength that had been reshaping how she understood everything. “I’m sure. I’ve never been more sure of anything.”
Angela reached them as they started down the ridge, but Diana noticed how she smiled at their obvious closeness rather than commenting on professional boundaries.
“Chief, the federal task force wants a full briefing on your investigation timeline,” Angela reported. “They’re saying your community intelligence provided breakthrough evidence for their operation.”
“Community consultation,” Diana corrected automatically, then caught Lavender’s amused glance. “Give me five minutes to coordinate with my consultant, then we’ll head down.”
After Angela left, Diana and Lavender stood at the ridge edge looking over the forest that had tested their partnership and confirmed their commitment.
“Ready for whatever comes next?” Lavender asked.
Diana thought about federal briefing and prosecution preparations, about explaining their unconventional methods to task force commanders, and justifying community consultations to people who’d never worked outside official channels.
“Ready,” Diana said, meaning it completely.
They walked down the ridge together, partners in every sense that mattered, carrying evidence that would help prosecute thepeople who’d stolen three women from their community and the certainty that they’d built something strong enough to survive whatever challenges lay ahead.
10
Lavender woke before her alarm, the houseboat’s familiar rocking unable to lull her back to sleep. Salt air drifted through the porthole she’d left cracked, but the seabird calls that usually grounded her felt distant against the memory of yesterday’s forest crisis.
Saffron materialized beside her pillow, green eyes reflecting concern. Bail paced the narrow hallway between the bedroom and galley, his gray form ghosting past windows where harbor lights blurred in the morning mist.
They knew. Animals always knew when something wasn’t quite right.
Lavender pulled herself from tangled quilts and padded barefoot across worn wooden floors, and the boat swayed gently as she moved.
Her hands shook slightly as she reached for the copper kettle, muscle memory disrupted by the weight pressing against her ribs. The danger in the forest and Diana’s protective instincts overriding everything else when those voices had called through the trees.
Steam rose from her chamomile tea, carrying scents that usually calmed her but today felt insufficient. She’d faced real danger yesterday, not the abstract threat that hung over the community for a month, but immediate peril that could’ve ended everything she’d built with Diana before they’d truly begun.
Her phone buzzed against the galley counter—a text from Georgia Darricott: Community’s buzzing about yesterday’s breakthrough. You holding up alright?
Another from Corinne: Heard you were part of the forest operation. Thank you for everything you’ve done.
The messages kept coming from community members who’d learned about her role in the investigation, offering their gratitude and concern. Lavender felt the weight of community leadership settling around her shoulders like a familiar coat, but today, it felt heavier somehow.
The first phone call came easier than expected. Georgia answered on the second ring, her voice carrying both relief and curiosity.
“Any word on what happens next?” Georgia asked.
“I’m sure there will be federal prosecutors and multi-jurisdictional coordination,” Lavender replied, settling into the cushioned nook where she took difficult calls. “There’s going to be lots of work over the next few months, but the immediate danger is over.”
“And you? How are you processing what happened?”
Lavender watched harbor lights reflect off water that sloshed around her houseboat. “I keep thinking about how close we came to losing everything. Not just the investigation, but…” She paused, recognizing territory she wasn’t ready to navigate.
“But your relationship with Chief Marten,” Georgia said gently. “Dear, half the community has noticed the change inboth of you. The way you work together, the way she looks at you when she thinks no one’s watching.”
Heat rose in Lavender’s cheeks. “It’s complicated.”
“The best things usually are.” Georgia’s voice carried decades of wisdom. “But yesterday proved something, didn’t it? About what you’re willing to risk for each other?”
Before Lavender could respond, someone knocked on the houseboat’s main door. Sharp, professional raps that made both cats flatten their ears.
“I need to go,” Lavender said, ending the call as a wave of unease crawled up her spine.
She moved toward the door with growing caution, noticing how the knocking had stopped. Through the porthole, she caught a glimpse of a figure walking quickly away from the dock, too distant to identify but moving with a purpose that felt wrong.
