Page 328 of Property of Whiskey

“Furniture stripped from multiple rooms. Fresh tire tracks. Back gates open.”

“They moved them.”

Daddy nods. “If anybody was there, they’re not there now.”

The small sense of victory from five minutes ago turns hollow.

We caught Pike. Got Crowley talking on a recording. Found proof somebody has been watching us and Wren.

And while we stand here, the current Pearly Gates property in town is being stripped.

Whiskey watches Pike being loaded into the ambulance under guard. “Crowley knew we were closing in.”

“Yeah.”

Daddy looks at me. “Your recording?”

I pat my pocket. “Still got it.”

“Body cam?”

“Probably caught enough before Pike ripped it loose.”

“Good.”

For once, we have something that isn’t rumor, secondhand memory, or a trail somebody already erased.

Crowley talked about people acting to protect the ministry. He confirmed Daddy learned when to stop asking questions. He called Mercy House an ugly history without denying the connection and reacted when I mentioned the blue room.

Then Harlan Pike assaulted a deputy in the sheriff’s department parking lot while carrying Pearly Gates identification. His phones contain surveillance of me and Wren.

It ain’t everything. But it’s enough to start tearing open doors.

Whiskey takes my hand. Right there in public. In front of Daddy. In front of deputies.

I look down at our fingers, then up at him. “You realize people can see you.”

“Yep.”

“Possessive.”

“Violently.”

Despite myself, I smile.

Daddy makes a disgusted noise. “Can we deal with the felonies before whatever the hell this is?”

Whiskey grins.

Daddy looks like he regrets surviving this long.

I squeeze Whiskey’s hand before turning serious again.

“Crowley knew about the picture.”

Daddy’s humor disappears. “Yes.”

“He knew what happened to you.”