CHAPTER 57
The house wasquiet the next evening at Refuge Cove.
Grace had fallen asleep almost the moment Naomi had laid her in the bassinet. Naomi had stood over her for ten minutes just watching her breathe before she’d made herself step back.
Good Boy was sprawled across his bed in the corner, damp from the bath Kendra had given him, smelling like dog shampoo, and looking deeply satisfied with the bowl of food he’d demolished twenty minutes ago. He lifted his head when Naomi looked at him, thumped his tail twice, and then relaxed again.
Hadley had checked him out and declared he was healthy. She was so thankful for that.
Everything that happened felt like a bad dream.
Ten minutes later, Micah arrived, and she met him on the porch.
Her heart skipped a beat at the sight of him.
He paused in front of her, hands tucked casually in his pockets. “Hey.”
Her voice sounded scratchy as she said, “Hey.”
They stood in front of each other a moment, the mountains quiet around them. She could feel the energy between them—as well as the unspoken conversations
So much had happened in such a short period of time.
Finally, she nodded behind her. “Come inside. Everyone else is gone. Luke just got back from vacation, and he invited everyone over for dinner. Max and Kendra are out to dinner too.”
“You didn’t go to Luke’s?”
She shook her head. “I thought about it, but a quiet night with Grace sounded good—plus, I figured someone should stay here.”
Micah followed her inside. She poured two glasses of water, and they sat at the kitchen table, close enough that the space between them felt intentional.
She waited for Micah to start. He’d said he was stopping by with an update—though part of her hoped he might want to see her also.
He drew in a deep breath before saying, “So . . . the people we arrested aren’t talking. They’re still running with the ransom story.”
Maybe she should be surprised, but she wasn’t. “You don’t believe them.”
“Nobody believes them—and we’re not letting this go until we find out the truth.” He turned the glass slowly in his hands. “I also questioned Dale this afternoon. He’s pointing the finger at Richard. Said if anyone orchestrated this, it was his brother. That he had nothing to do with it.”
Naomi studied Micah’s face. “Do you believe that?”
“I think Dale is smart enough to keep his hands clean and let other people take the risk. Whether that means Richard acted alone or Dale gave the order and made sure nothing pointed back to him . . .” He shook his head. “We’re still pulling on threads.”
Naomi had known this case wouldn’t be clean. She hadn’t let herself hope for clean—or for fast answers. People like Dale Harding didn’t get where they were by being careless.
“So it’s not over,” she said.
“Not entirely. We’ve arrested the people directly involved—the three men and one woman from the kidnapping. They’re from the DC area, and they all have criminal pasts—one for bank robbery, another for breaking and entering, another for assault. But none of them have ever been involved with a kidnapping before.”
“I’m guessing someone from that group is probably the same one who watched me in the pediatrician’s office and left that note on my SUV.”
“Probably. Then there’s Gary Lee Foster. Turns out he’s done some work for Dale Harding.”
“Thatisinteresting,” Naomi murmured. “That connection has to make Dale look a little guiltier.”
“For sure. What we know so far is that Gary—or someone he worked for—realized you had this dog and knew that taking Good Boy would be a good excuse to both get on your property and to take something from you that could be used as leverage. I’m still not sure what kind of leverage he was angling for.”
“He could have been using the dog as a distraction,” Naomi offered.
