Residents: Currently 2. Millie Anderson (fleeing ex-husband Garrick Anderson, DC attorney). Valentina Reyes (possible witness protection?).
Staff: Caleb King (owner, former Navy), Naomi King (finance), Max Kincaid (maintenance/kennels), Ruby King (cook, part-time), Kendra Williams (kennel assistant, 3x/week).
Millie’s hands shook as she turned the pages.
Financial information about the shelter. Grant applications pending. Operating costs. Vulnerabilities.
Everything someone would need to destroy this place from the inside.
The final page was a list of objectives with checkmarks beside them:
Call the county about property use violations ?
Release dogs ?
Sabotage cameras ?
Then there were the items without checkmarks.
Disable smoke detector
Mess with locks
Damage septic system
Possible “accidental” fire
Millie’s heart pounded harder. If she’d had time to do these things . . . it would have ruined Refuge Cove. If she hadn’t found this when she did.
Millie didn’t want to think about it.
She grabbed the phone and notebook and stood, her legs unsteady.
This was proof. Undeniable proof that Sissy had been working against them.
But proof of what, exactly? Espionage? Sabotage?
And what was the final phase?
She didn’t know. But she had to get these to Caleb. Now.
Caleb had asked Sissy every question he could think of.
Had she heard anything unusual tonight? Seen anyone suspicious on the property? Noticed any vehicles that didn’t belong?
She’d answered each one with wide-eyed concern, her hands folded over her belly, her voice soft and worried.
She seemed genuine.
But the longer he talked to her, the more he noticed small things.
The way her eyes would dart toward the stairs every few minutes, like she was tracking something.
The way she kept glancing at the clock on the wall.
The way her hand occasionally moved to her pocket, then stopped as if she were reaching for something that wasn’t there.
“I think that’s everything.” Caleb finally closed his notebook. “Thank you for your patience.”
