Ken was going about his day. Free. Normal. As if there wasn’t a woman lying in a hospital because of his actions. The anger that had been swirling inside Luke mounted higher and higher, throbbing against his skull like a migraine.
He didn’t feel glad about anything, but he recognized in a dull sort of way that he should be glad that Ken was still in town. He hadn’t made a run for it. Yet.
Both he and Finley had seen Ken’s face, but Finley was unconscious. If Ken and his brothers had denied Luke’s account to the police, then it was Luke’s word—the word of a felon—against the word of three men who were seen as upstanding members of the community.
When Finley woke, she’d confirm the story Luke had given the police. But only if she remembered what had happened. She might not remember. Even if she did, she’d sustained a blow to the head. He wasn’t sure how clear or legally binding her memories would be.
What would the Vance brothers do next? Possibly try to keep Finley from waking? He’d see if Robbie could get the DA to approve a restraining order against the brothers so that they couldn’t get into her hospital room. He’d also make sure one of her friends or family members was with her in the ICU at all times, like Bridget was right now.
No doubt the brothers had already stored the gold in a secure location. They might be preparing to leave the country, but that was likely their last resort. They had families, jobs, and deep ties to this town. They’d want to stay here if they could.
Luke needed evidence against them.
Ken moved around inside the building, tidying up.
You underestimated me when you decided not to flee this country, Luke thought, his eyes on Ken, as his truck rumbled to life beneath him.And now you’ve given me time to take you down.
He steered the truck toward Northwestern Hospital. Using the voice controls on his phone, he called his mother. She answered with a pleased “Luke?”
He let his eyes sink closed for a split second before refocusing on the road. He told her that Finley had been hurt and was currently in the hospital.
“I’m so sorry. Is there anything that I can do?”
“I wondered if you could work out a schedule so that there’s always somebody with Finley in her hospital room while she’s in the ICU. Around the clock.”
“I’d be happy to do that.”
“I’ll stay through the night tonight and most of the day tomorrow, so don’t book those times.”
“Got it.”
“Call Ben. He knows the people who work at the Center with Finley. I’ll send you the phone numbers of Finley’s two best friends and her uncle.”
“I’m on it.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. This community is small, Luke. Helping is what we do for one another. I’m glad for the chance to do something tangible for Finley.”
What she didn’t say but what he understood clearly was that she was also glad for the chance to do something for him. This was the first time in decades that he’d asked her for anything.
“Luke?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you.”
For years, when she and Dad had said those words to him, they’d bounced off as if he were wearing a suit of armor. But Finley’s injury had ripped away his defenses. This time, when she said the words, they penetrated. So much, he found it hard to reply. They exchanged good-byes and he disconnected.
He directed his next phone call to Ben’s mom, CeCe Coleman.
“I’m fired up,” she said instead of answering with a normal hello. “I just found out about Finley’s accident at the beauty shop. The beauty shop! Not from my son or from you. Which just isn’t right—”
“I need information.” Luke had no time for CeCe’s drama, even on his best days.
“What kind of information?”
“Information on the Vance brothers.” CeCe knew more people in their region of Georgia than a phone book. Somehow, the Vance brothers had learned about the treasure hunt. And somehow, they’d followed him and Finley to the dig site in an ATV. In order to accomplish those things, they’d most likely had help from friends or family. The more Luke learned about those close to the Vance brothers, the more likely he’d understand how they’d gotten away with what they’d done.
