“You didn’t answer my question.”
“I missed you, Frank.” The words dripped with insincerity from Dave’s mouth. “I thought it was time to bury the hatchet.”
Frank studied the man across from him. They’d worked together on Sterling’s legal team for seven years, and Frank had trusted Dave with some of the company’s most sensitive cases—until the scandal surrounding Sterling Industries surfaced.
When documents disappeared and witness statements were altered, Frank realized just how deep corruption could go in a company he’d once believed in.
"We’ve already buried the hatchet," Frank said, sliding his half-finished lunch aside. “Along with everything else I left behind.”
Dave accepted his coffee from the waitress with a charming smile that vanished when she turned away. “Not everything stayed buried, though, did it? Some things have a way of resurfacing.”
The implied threat hung between them like smoke. Frank’s heart rate increased, but he kept his face impassive. “I’m retired from corporate life, Dave. I fish, I read, and I help at the community center. Whatever you’re here for was a wasted trip.”
Dave chuckled, stirring his coffee slowly. “You always were the straight arrow. That’s why they never fully trusted you, you know. Too much integrity.” He leaned forward, dropping his voice. “The files, Frank. Where are they?”
Frank stiffened. The encrypted hard drive was the insurance policy he’d never wanted to use but had been smart enough to keep. Copies of internal memos, email chains, and meeting notes—all documenting the manipulation of military satellites to give false information to American surveillance operations.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Frank told him.
“Don’t insult me.” Dave’s smile disappeared. “After the internal investigation cleared everyone, most of the evidence conveniently vanished. But there was a copy. Your copy.” Dave’s fingers drummed once on the table. “The court case is getting closer, and Sterling’s board wants to know who’s still feeding the FBI information.”
Frank glanced at Isabel on the far side of the room. She’d arrived with her friends a few minutes before Dave arrived. She had a concerned expression that would have been touching under different circumstances.
“That’s not my problem anymore,” Frank said firmly. “I suggest you enjoy Flathead Lake while you’re here. The fishing’s great at this time of year.”
Dave’s laugh was hollow. “I’m not like you, Frank. I like a little more adventure in my leisure activities.” He stood up, tossing a five-dollar bill on the table. “I’m staying at the Lakeside Inn. Charming place. Think about our conversation. For old times’ sake.”
As Dave slid out of the booth, he added in a voice just loud enough for Frank to hear, “Sterling has deep pockets and a long memory. Some people wonder if your whistleblowing was really about ethics... or revenge.”
Frank watched him leave, a sense of dread settling in his stomach. Dave wouldn’t have come all this way for nothing. Marcus must be right. Whatever was happening in Seattle must be serious enough to send Dave looking to discredit him and his evidence.
He sat there for several minutes, mind racing, barely noticing when Isabel approached his table.
“Frank? Is everything okay?”
He looked up, momentarily startled. Isabel stood beside him with concern written across her face. “I just had a meeting with an old colleague. He’s passing through town,” Frank said, forcing a smile.
Isabel slid into the seat Dave had vacated. “That looked like more than a friendly catch-up.”
Frank hesitated. Isabel was perceptive and honest. She might not trust him if she knew what he’d done to uncover the truth.
“Legal reunions aren’t always cordial,” he said, attempting light-heartedness.
Isabel tilted her head slightly. “I wasn’t born yesterday, Frank. I recognize the look of someone hiding something.”
Frank sighed. “It’s complicated, Isabel. Old case, old disagreements.”
Isabel frowned. “He didn’t look like he was here to reminisce about the good old days.”
“Dave never does anything without an agenda,” Frank admitted. “If you see him in town, be careful around him. He can be charming when he wants something.”
Isabel looked across at her friends. “James used to tell me I could spot a snake-oil salesman from a mile away.”
Despite his concern, Frank smiled. “I don’t doubt it.”
She reached across the table and briefly touched his hand. “Whatever this is about, you don’t have to handle it alone,” she said. “That’s not how things work in Sapphire Bay.”
For a moment, Frank was tempted to tell her everything—about the corruption he'd discovered, the evidence he'd secured before leaving Sterling, and the copy of an encrypted hard drive he'd hidden in a fishing tackle box in his garage. But exposing Isabel to that danger was unthinkable.
