She pulled up her photo timestamps: 9:17 a.m., 9:26 a.m., 9:31 a.m. She studied the pictures. The small boat had appeared at 9:22, and the temporary dock permit window had opened at 9:15.
That wasn’t a coincidence. Her pulse quickened as the timeline started to align in ways that no longer seemed accidental.
She pulled up Will’s travel records from Rhea. She had scraped conference attendance metadata earlier.
His Charleston conference check-in badge had been scanned at 8:02 a.m. Her forehead crinkled as she gritted her teeth.Charleston is two hours away. Even if he’d left immediately… He couldn’t have been in both places.She stopped to ponder options.Unless he hadn’t checked in personally. Unless someone else had.Her stomach dropped as she moved to financial records.
The consulting firm she’d flagged earlier, Bayfront Risk Advisory, linked indirectly to Hargrove’s coastal acquisitions.
Letty dug further. First, she examined corporate filings, then individual board members and subcontractors. She shook her head when she saw a name that appeared in smaller text: Independent Fire Risk Consultant, William Thomas.
Her breath puffed out.That’s not proof, exactly, but it is proximity.
Wyatt’s voice came from behind her. “You’re pushing.”
She didn’t jump. She knew he had entered the room. “I’m working,” she replied.
Wyatt stepped into view, coffee mug in hand, expression unreadable. “You didn’t tell me you were digging into financials.”
“You were in the shower.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
She turned her chair to face him. “I don’t need supervision.”
His jaw ticked. “I’m not supervising.”
“It feels like it.”
He stepped closer, setting the mug on the table. “What did you find?”
She hesitated before she turned the screen toward him. “Temporary dock permit issued the morning of our training by Jared Pike,” she said. “Fuel access window opened fifteen minutes before the small boat appeared.”
His eyes scanned quickly. “And?”
“Will is listed as an independent fire risk consultant with Bayfront Risk Advisory.”
Silence. He leaned in closer to the screen. “That’s tied to Hargrove.”
“Yes.”
His jaw hardened. “Is it official?”
“Technically? Advisory capacity.”
“Which means deniable.”
“Yes.” She observed carefully. “I don’t know if he set the fire,” she hissed. “But he had access.”
“And knowledge,” Wyatt added.
“And motive.”
He straightened his posture. “You should’ve told me before digging this deep.”
Her spine stiffened. “I won’t allow you to protect me from my own work.”
His eyes flashed. “You don’t get to pretend you’re not in danger.”
