CHAPTER 62
Refuge Cove felt warmerin the aftermath of the events of the past several days.
The smell of Brunswick stew made Kori’s stomach rumble.
Wyatt’s mother, Ruby, had arrived with the food two hours ago. She’d brought enough to feed twice their number. She’d even brought a smaller pot that was vegan.
It reminded Kori of something her own mother might have done.
Kori immediately liked the woman.
Wyatt’s family and friends crowded around every available surface—Wyatt sat at the table with Caleb and Millie. Naomi moved between the kitchen and the living room with Grace on her hip. Max, who seemed melancholy since his breakup, lingered between the kitchen and dining room table.
They’d invited Pete, Martha, Herb, and Billie. They’d declined the invite.
Pete had told them about his meeting with Bartholomew. He’d said the man came in to order supplies. But Pete started asking questions and got suspicious when he wanted to order bullets.
When Pete said he wouldn’t be able to order things for him, Bartholomew had told him that was a mistake. That now he knew too much. He’d taken him hostage.
Mackenzie was at Refuge Cove right now also. She sat cross-legged on the floor near the fireplace and played with Biscuit. Something about the sight of her made Kori’s chest ache in the best possible way.
Wren was there too. She’d been released from the hospital and had come here. Right now, she sat quietly in the corner of the couch. Naomi had offered her a room two days ago, and Wren had accepted. She was slowly healing.
The three other women who were guests at Refuge Cove were also here. They’d eaten earlier and had returned to their rooms. Kori could understand.
There was a lot going on out here.
“So walk us back.” Caleb lifted a spoonful of Brunswick stew toward his lips. “From the beginning. How did this even happen out in the middle of our woods?”
Wyatt looked at Mackenzie.
She joined them at the table and blew out a breath before starting. “It started when I took a side job to supplement my income . . .”
She explained everything—how she’d agreed to review trail cam footage for a company that offered cloud storage and footage management as a subscription service. Customers opted in, uploading their feeds to a central platform.
Mackenzie’s job was to organize and catalog what came through. Most of it was wildlife and the occasional hiker—nothing remarkable.
But a local account had caught her attention. She was curious about why someone would place nearly twenty cameras in the national forest. She began watching the feed.
“And then I saw Flint,” Mackenzie said.
Everyone went quiet at the mention of his name.
“I saw him for the first time back in November,” she said. “He was meeting with these people in the woods—and they weren’t your normal hikers or park rangers. It was so strange. I told myself there was an explanation, but I suspected otherwise.”
“When did you confront him?” Kori asked.
“Two weeks later. I kept watching the footage, building up what I had.” A small, rueful sound escaped her. “Old habit, I guess. When something doesn’t add up, I want to understand it completely before I say anything.”
“But you didn’t drop it,” Kori said.
Mackenzie tilted her head at her sister. “Would you have?”
“No way. They don’t call me The Hammer for nothing.”
Wyatt let out a soft chuckle.
“He told me he’d been with them for almost a year,” Mackenzie continued. “Then he told me he’d met someone while doing boundary surveys, a man who had a lot of grievances about government overreach.”
