Page 29 of Revival in Laurel Valley

Wyatt drove while he briefed them on the plan. “Hank O’Hara just finished a new condo development on the east side of town—luxury units, mostly sold but not yet occupied. There’s a furnished model apartment on the top floor they use for showings. We’re setting you up there, making it look like you’re hiding out.”

“And Caine will buy that we’re in a random condo?” Grant asked.

“We’ll make sure she knows where you are. Wyatt’s been putting out feelers, letting it slip through channels that you’re staying in one of Hank’s new buildings. She’ll come looking.”

Wyatt’s hands tightened on the wheel. “The building’s empty except for the model unit. We’ve got snipers positioned on adjacent rooftops with clear sight lines. FBI agents staged in vacant units. The whole block is locked down—no civilians anywhere near it. When she shows, we take her.”

“She’s smart,” Grant said, Liza tucked against his side. “She’ll look for the trap.”

“Then we make it convincing. Lights on, movement in the windows. She’ll see what she wants to see—you vulnerable and waiting.” Wyatt glanced in the rearview mirror. “And this time, we’ll be ready for her.

“Then we make sure she doesn’t see it until it’s too late.” Wyatt’s voice went hard. “She terrorized our town. Shot our sheriff. Tried to kill two people under our protection. That doesn’t fly here. The O’Haras take care of their own, and right now, you two are ours.”

Liza felt Grant’s arm tighten around her. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet. Thank me when this is over and you’re both safe and planning your wedding.” Wyatt glanced in the rearview mirror, and Liza could have sworn she saw him smile.

“Blaze has a bet going that you’ll be married by spring. I told him I think you’ll be married by the end of the month. I recognize impulsive people when I see them. You’re made for each other. Don’t make me lose money.”

Despite everything, Liza laughed. And Grant pulled her even closer, his lips brushing her temple.

As they drove back toward Laurel Valley, toward the confrontation that would end this nightmare one way or another, Liza closed her eyes and held on to Grant.

Two days. Two perfect days of falling in love in a cabin in the woods.

Now it was time to fight for the future they’d promised each other.

Together.

Chapter Seven

The condo development rose against the darkening sky like a testament to ambition and modern excess. All glass and steel and uncompromising angles, it stood in deliberate contrast to the Bavarian charm that defined downtown Laurel Valley. Hank O’Hara had built this on the eastern edge of town where zoning restrictions loosened their grip, where buyers with money craved sleek contemporary lines and walls of windows that framed the mountains like living art.

Grant studied the building as Wyatt pulled into the empty parking lot, his mind automatically cataloging vulnerabilities. Six stories of exposed glass that would glow like a beacon after dark. Perfect for showcasing luxury. Terrible for defense. But then, that wasn’t the point, was it?

“Top floor, southeast corner unit,” Wyatt said, cutting the engine. In the sudden silence, Liza’s breathing seemed too loud, too fast. “That’s the model apartment. We’ll set it up to look occupied—lights on timers, movement behind the curtains. But you two won’t be anywhere near it.”

Grant felt some of the tension ease from his shoulders. “So what’s the real plan?”

“She’s a sniper,” Wyatt said, twisting in his seat to look at them. His green eyes were sharp, focused. “That’s where she’s most dangerous—at distance, with time to line up her shot, with control of the situation. So we take that away from her.”

“How?” Liza’s voice was steady, but Grant felt the tremor in her hand where it rested against his thigh.

Wyatt pulled blueprints from the passenger seat and spread them across the dashboard. “The model unit will look occupied from the outside. Decoys positioned near the windows, lights creating shadows that could be people moving around. But here’s the thing—from the distance she’d need to set up a shot, she won’t be able to confirm her target. Not with certainty.”

Grant leaned forward, studying the blueprints. “And snipers need certainty.”

“Exactly. She’ll see movement, see lights, but she won’t be able to verify it’s actually you. Not well enough to risk a shot that might miss, might hit a decoy, might blow her one chance.”

Wyatt’s finger traced a path on the blueprint. “So she’ll have to come closer. And when she does, when she enters the building to verify her target, she loses every advantage she has.”

“Where will we be?” Liza asked.

“Here.” Wyatt pointed to a unit on the fifth floor. “Interior bedroom, no exterior walls, no windows. Reinforced door. Hank uses it as a safe room for the sales team when they’re working alone in an empty building. You’ll have camera feeds showing you everything—the model unit, the stairwells, the exterior approaches. You’ll be able to see it all happen without being exposed.”

Grant felt the soundness of the plan settle into his bones. “We’re bait, but protected bait.”

“You’re the lure that draws her into the trap,” Wyatt corrected. “Once she’s inside the building, we have her boxed. Agents on the fourth floor, more on the sixth. Pressure sensors on every door, cameras covering every inch. She can’t get in or out without us knowing.”