“That triggers an automatic hold on alteration,” Peter continued, hands resting on his hips like he had all the time in the world. “You start tearing it apart now, that’s willful violation.”
“And what are you going to do about it?” Quinn shot back, tossing the crowbar and picking up the other power tool, squeezing the trigger and aiming the tool at Peter with a vile look. “You and the old ladies and babies are going to stop me?”
Peter moved so fast, Vivien didn’t actually think she saw it happen. One second he was at the base of the steps and the next he launched up them—three long strides, no hesitation. He clamped a hand over Quinn’s wrist, the other caught the back of his shoulder to turn him with precise force.
The impact driver died mid-snarl as Peter twisted it cleanly out of Quinn’s grip and it dropped to the planks with a hollow clang.
“You’ve already removed material from county property without authorization,” Peter said, low and controlled, right at Quinn’s ear—but every word carried. “So here’s what you’re going to do, Mr. Hargrove: Pack up, unload the lumber you salvaged, put your tools in the truck, and get out.”
Quinn jerked free just enough to sneer a curse at Peter. “You can’t do a thing to stop me.”
“Watch me.”
Peter’s weight shifted as his hand slid behind Quinn’s arm, guiding—not shoving—using Quinn’s own resistance against him. The motion was so fast it barely registered as force.
Quinn’s balance disappeared.
Peter muscled him down the short embankment beside the bridge and drove him into the sand in one controlled sweep. He planted a knee square between Quinn’s shoulder blades.
One hand locked his wrist, the other already reaching for cuffs Vivien didn’t even know he had.
It was over before anyone processed it. Before anyonebreathed.
“You are being detained for performing construction and demolition without a valid permit, violating a stop-work order, and interfering with a government order,” Peter said, his voice like iron. “And you are going downtown.”
Quinn swore into the sand.
Vivienmighthave swooned.
Leaning in just enough to be heard, Peter got right in the guy’s ear. “You don’t get to dismantle historic public property because you’re greedy and in a hurry.”
He pulled Quinn’s arms back, secured the cuffs, then finally looked up at the stunned circle Eli had managed to hold back. His gaze traveled over all of them, but landed directly on Vivien, as warm and heroic as that day in the rain.
“Aren’t you going to read me my rights?” Quinn asked.
“Sure.” He stood them both straight up, moving Quinn like a helpless puppet. “You have no right to talk to women who are out of your league,” he said in a perfectly dry voice as he walked right past her and winked. “Don’t jump without me, Viv. Don’t let go of a thing until I get this menace booked.”
He pushed Quinn forward and guided him into the back seat of a sheriff’s SUV, slamming the door as a final punctuation.
Everyone stood stone still as Peter drove off, except for Tessa, who sidled up to Vivien and whispered, “Andthat’swhy you’ve spent thirty years mooning over the man.”
Vivien smiled. She had a feeling she was about to spend thirty more.
They all decidedto wait for the hero of the day before they jumped. The result was an impromptu party, a massive bonfire, and endless songs from the early ’90s on cassettes that Jonah pronounced “epic.”
As Tessa, Olive, and Nolie danced on the sand to “Walking on Broken Glass,” Meredith sat with Connor, talking over a sleeping Atlas, while Eli and Jonah stoked the fire.
Dusty and Anthony had run back to the house and returned with a truckload of chairs, blankets, drinks, and snacks.
Before she left, Natalie explained how her meeting with Vivien had gotten her fired up for one last effort to save the bridge. She’d been the one to go to the sheriff’s office when a certain piece of documentation was missing, and Peter had glommed onto the case to help her.
Vivien hugged her and promised to stay in touch.
It was dark by the time Peter returned to a rousing round of applause that he waved off.
“You all look too dry to have jumped off that bridge,” he said, laughing. “Or are you worried it isn’t safe?”
“It’s structurally sound,” Eli assured him, placing an arm on Peter’s shoulder. “And you, my friend, made us proud.”
