“Bridget, I told you to call me Ivy,” she responded with a laugh. “And thank you, but this is supposed to be your night off. No work talk.”
Henry watched Ivy remember specific details about each crew member, asking about Marco’s recovery, Bobby’s new baby, and Cilia’s mother’s recent move. The genuine care in her voice pulled reluctant respect from him.
Ronald Vance entered the brewery. He approached their table with a stack of papers tucked under his arm, nodding at Henry before turning to Ivy.
“Here are those revised security plans,” Ronald said, placing the documents on the table. “I’ve added those reinforced locks you requested for the equipment trailers.”
“Thank you for handling this so quickly,” Ivy replied.
“I’ll have one drink, then head out.” Ronald signaled the bartender. “Early concrete pour tomorrow. Call me if anything else happens.”
As the conversation flowed around him, Henry kept his attention on the workers discussing the scaffolding collapse.
The brewery door swung open. A woman in a tailored charcoal suit and designer heels entered, drawing eyes with her deliberatestride. Her dark hair hung in a sleek curtain to her shoulders, and her makeup looked fresh despite the late hour. She stood out among the flannel shirts and work boots like a hawk among sparrows.
Ivy tensed beside him. Henry noticed the sudden change in her posture.
“That’s Lisa Mercer,” Ivy whispered, leaning close to his ear. “The architect who wanted to lead the nature center project but lost out to my proposal. Bobby told me he saw her near the scaffolding right before it collapsed yesterday. I wasn’t sure if I should believe it, but...”
Henry nodded, taking in this new information. The woman’s gaze swept the room with cold calculation before landing on their group. He caught the sudden sourness in her scent. Bitterness. Hatred directed at Ivy.
Lisa spotted their group and approached with a practiced smile that never reached her eyes.
“Well, isn’t this cozy,” she said, gaze sweeping over the construction crew before landing on Ivy. “The little nature center family having a celebration. What exactly are we celebrating? Another construction delay?”
Henry moved closer to Ivy without conscious thought.
“Lisa, what a surprise,” Ivy said, her smile dimming but not disappearing. “Would you like to join us?”
“So gracious,” Lisa replied. “Even after that unfortunate scaffolding incident. Such bad luck for your project timeline.”
Henry stepped forward. “You were seen near the scaffolding before it collapsed.”
The conversation around them halted. Lisa’s composed expression flickered for an instant before hardening.
“Excuse me?” she asked.
“A witness placed you at the construction site before the accident,” Henry stated, his ranger authority filling his voice.
Lisa’s laugh sounded brittle. “That’s absurd.” She turned to Ivy. “You might want to leash your pet ranger before he makes accusations that could lead to legal trouble.”
The construction workers shifted uncomfortably. Ivy’s face flushed.
“I’m just gathering information,” Henry said. Something didn’t add up. People with nothing to hide rarely responded with such immediate hostility.
“Well, gather this,” Lisa snapped. “Some projects are doomed from conception, especially when led by someone more interested in playing around than doing real architectural work.” She turned to leave but paused to look at Ivy once more. “When this falls apart, don’t worry. I’ll be ready to step in and salvage what’s left.”
She strode out, leaving uncomfortable silence in her wake. Henry noted the way her left eye had twitched when denying her presence at the site. The slight tremor in her hands. The accelerated pulse visible at her throat. Deception indicators, though not proof.
A tall man with wavy blond hair and a pressed button-down shirt slid smoothly into the space Lisa vacated. “Dr. Bright,” he said, his voice smooth as honey. “I was hoping I’d find you here.”
“Oh, Eric,” Ivy replied. “Henry, this is Eric Robins, our environmental impact consultant for the nature center. Eric, this is Henry Kincaid, forest ranger.”
The men exchanged terse nods before Eric turned his attention fully to Ivy. “Don’t let her get to you,” the consultant told Ivy, placing his hand on her shoulder. “Your vision for this project is revolutionary. The committee wouldn’t have selected it otherwise.”
Henry watched the man’s thumb trace small circles on Ivy’s shoulder. Unnecessary contact. Standing close enough that his expensive cologne clouded the natural fresh scent that was uniquely Ivy’s. Heat crawled up Henry’s neck. His jaw clenched tight enough to ache. The beer glass in his hand creaked under sudden pressure from his fingers.
“Your leadership has been nothing short of brilliant,” the consultant continued, leaning closer to Ivy. “The way you’ve balanced everything proves why you were the right choice.”
