“They wanted you to know they can find you,” Becket continued, folding the photo back into the envelope. “That distance doesn’t protect you. And stepping onto this property?” He glanced toward the window. “That’s deliberate. It tells me they’re either reckless or confident enough to think the badge doesn’t apply to them.”
Eric shifted closer to me; his presence solid. “Let’s slow this down,” he said, placing a hand lightly at my back. “One thing at a time.”
Becket nodded once, acknowledging him. “Agreed.” He pulled his phone from his pocket, tapping the screen before slipping it away again. “Here’s what I know. I got a call this morning from a financial contact out of Sherbrooke. There’s movement in Marcel Bellerose’s accounts. Old money. Quiet money. It’s being rerouted through a shell company tied to a recent commercial purchase in town.”
My pulse spiked. “The old mechanic shop.”
“Yes,” Becket said. “Which tells me someone’s consolidating. Cleaning things up. Making sure nothing traces back to Marcel directly.”
Eric’s voice dropped. “And Harmony fits into that how?”
Becket met his gaze. “She’s leverage. She testified. She cooperated. From their perspective, she’s unpredictable.”
“I didn’t tell the police everything,” I said, the words tumbling out before I could stop them. “I gave them what they needed. When my father’s associates got involved with that Montréal crew, when Braden was taken, I didn’t have a choice. People were getting hurt.”
Becket’s expression didn’t change, but something sharpened behind his eyes. “Which makes you a liability to anyone still operating under Marcel’s shadow.”
Eric exhaled through his nose. “So, we’re talking about intimidation.”
“Yes,” Becket confirmed. “Pressure. Fear. A reminder of where you came from and who still thinks they own you.”
I wrapped my arms around myself. “Olivier’s always believed blood means loyalty,” I said quietly. “And Nico does whatever keeps him on the winning side.”
“That tracks,” Becket replied. “Both have motive. Both have access. And both know this town well enough to stay just inside the lines.”
Eric glanced at him. “And anyone else?”
Becket hesitated, just long enough for me to notice. “I’m keeping an open list,” he said carefully. “Anyone with proximity, opportunity, or something to gain from stirring things up.”
That didn’t make me feel better.
“I don’t need theories,” Eric said, his tone firm but controlled. “I need to know what you’re doing about it.”
Becket straightened. “I’m pulling camera footage from Main Street and the access roads. I’m flagging recent property purchases tied to Marcel’s old network. And I’m increasing patrols near the flower shop and the Maple Valley property.”
I nodded. “I don’t want this turning into a spectacle.”
“It won’t,” Becket said. “But you’re not handling this alone.”
Eric’s hand tightened briefly at my back. “And if another message shows up?”
Becket’s gaze locked on mine. “You tell us immediately. No exceptions.”
I swallowed and nodded. “Okay.”
The room settled into a tense silence. Eric didn’t say anything, but I could feel the weight of everything he wasn’t voicing pressing in around us.
Becket slipped the envelope into an evidence sleeve. “This isn’t about the past,” he said finally. “It’s about control. And someone’s losing it. You both should lay low for a while. Especially you, Harmony.”
“I’m not running again,” I argued.
He gave a small nod of respect. “Then at least don’t walk alone after dark.”
When the door closed behind him, silence filled the loft.
Eric turned toward me—arms crossed. “You heard him.”
“I’m not hiding. I’ve learned it doesn’t help me anyway. If they want to find me they will. Hell, they know I spent the night here in the loft.”
