It was after three when I finished planting the rose bushes, and while I felt less anxious than I had before the dig, my hands were filthy. I washed them off with the hose while I watered the bushes, but some of the dirt was ground in. There was a convenience store about a mile away, so I decided to use the restroom there.

The convenience store was packed with people getting gas, drinks, and snacks on their way home from work, forcing me to park in the side lot. After I used the restroom, I bought a bottle of water and took a long drink as I walked back to my truck.

I stopped in my tracks at the sight of the big, beefy guy leaning against my driver’s door. He had on jeans, a loose graphic T-shirt, and a pair of work boots that looked like they’d actually been used for their intended purpose and weren’t some fashion fad. His arms were folded across his chest, showing off the full-sleeve tattoos on his arms. His pose appeared nonchalant, but the set of his jaw suggested otherwise.

I lowered my water bottle, giving myself a second to come up with a plan. Flee or confront him? Most of me screamed, “Flee!” but the fed-up part of me decided to confront him and get this over with.

I walked up to him, my water bottle in my left hand, my phone and keys in my right. “Can I help you?”

“Lady, my boss wants to see you.”

Lady. Crap. Was this one of Wagner’s men? Or maybe Dermot’s? “Who’s your boss?”

He dropped his arms and stood up straighter, taking a step away from my truck. “I’m not at liberty to say.”

“Well,” I said as I pushed the button on my key fob to unlock the door, “when you are at liberty to say, then let me know and we’ll see what we can arrange.”

He put his hand on the door to keep me from opening it, then lifted his T-shirt a few inches with his other hand to expose part of the handgun in a holster on his belt.

That complicated things.

“What do you expect me to do?” I asked, trying to run through my options. “Get in your car and go with you to God knows where and have God knows what happen to me just because you flashed that thing? I think I’d rather take my chances out in public.”

He looked stumped at that, but he still kept his hand on the door.

Pushing out a huge breath, I took a step back to look up at him. “So we’re going with option two, which is me puttin’ up a huge fuss to make you run away.”

Confusion washed through his eyes. “He just wants to meet with you.”

“I need more assurance than that, Mr. . . . ?”

He looked puzzled, but he answered me nonetheless. “Brox.”

“Why does your boss want to meet with me? Give me a little incentive to go with you.”

He pulled out his phone, then placed a call and held it up to his ear. “She doesn’t want to go.” He grimaced, then gave me a dark look as he added, “She’s threatening to pitch a fit if I try to make her. She’s scared you’ll hurt her.”

I watched the exchange, knowing this was pointless. This was probably the stupidest idea ever, but I reached up and snatched his phone and pressed it to my ear. “Why don’t we cut out the middleman? Why do you want to meet with me?”

There was a moment of silence before a deep male voice said, “We have a mutual problem.”

It definitely wasn’t Kip Wagner or Tim Dermot—I’d recognize either of their voices—but who was it? Denny Carmichael? “And what might that be?”

“Come meet me and we’ll discuss it then.”

“No, thanks. I’m not that stupid.”

“It could mean helpin’ Skeeter Malcolm.”

That gave me a millisecond’s pause, but probably long enough to do damage. “And why would that concern me?”

“Now you’re insinuating I’m stupid.”

“Give me more than that.”

“Let’s just say it concerns a missing file.”

I stared up at the pissed man in front of me. “And what assurance can you give me that you won’t put a bullet in me once we’re done with our meetin’?”

“If I wanted to put a bullet in you, you’d already be dead.”

Fair point.

This was probably the stupidest thing I’d done in a while, but there was a chance this could solve the Wagner problem. Besides, we needed to find that file, and I’d already decided Denny was likely my next best lead. “Fine.”

“See you in fifteen minutes.” Then he hung up.

I handed the phone back to the very pissed-off Brox. “I’ll go with you, but you are not allowed to lay a finger on me. Is that perfectly clear?”

His answer was a glare. I’d take it.

He walked over to an older, bright red, two-door Mustang that was backed into a spot two spaces over. “You’ll sit in back,” he said, opening the driver’s door.

At least he wasn’t putting me in the trunk, but it was going to be awkward climbing into that car in my skirt, especially since I wanted to keep my gun holster hidden. “I’ll come with you, but I need you to turn to the side a bit so I can make sure you don’t get a peep show of my panties.”

He held out his hand. “I’ll look away, but I’m gonna need your cell phone.”

I wasn’t surprised, but my anxiety ratcheted up a few notches as I handed it over. Then he walked over to my truck and tossed the phone on the floorboard. “You can lock it and keep your keys,” he said with an unfriendly smile, “but only if you get in the Mustang now.”

I pressed the lock button, making the truck chirp, then started to get in, making sure he was living up to his end of the bargain. Once I was in the back, I sat in the middle, but he grunted as he pushed his seat back and climbed in. “Lie down.”

I started to put up a protest, but it wasn’t worth it. There would be other ways to figure out our location. My biggest concern was flashing my gun holster, but I lay on my left side, covering both gun and holster with my right thigh. As soon as I was down, he started his car and pulled out.

We spent the next ten minutes or so in silence while Brox drove us to our destination. I kept track of the turns, watching what I could see of the landscape through the tiny passenger windows. Mostly I saw trees, followed by a stretch of open sky and then a heavily wooded area that included a lot of pine trees. He pulled to a halt and turned off the engine. “You can sit up.”

I put a hand on his seat to help push myself up, and he gave me a suspicious glare—had he expected more protesting from me?—but didn’t say anything.

We were in the middle of the woods, parked in front of a log cabin with two small windows in front and a tiny window nestled under the top of the A-shaped roofline. There were multiple outer buildings and an older pickup and another muscle car.

As Brox opened the door and got out, I stuffed my keys into my skirt pocket to use as a weapon in case the need arose. I was sitting with my hands in my lap when he leaned down to push his seat forward to let me out.

I led with my right foot to hide my holster, then stood next to the car. “Nice place you have here.”

He looked like he wanted to say something but pressed his lips together.

The front door to the cabin opened, and a man who looked like he was in his early twenties appeared. “That’s her?”

Brox still didn’t say anything. He started to reach for my arm, but I slid to the side. “No touching.”

The guy in the doorway laughed. “She’s got you whipped, boy.”

Both of us shot him a glare.

Brox motioned to the porch, then said in a condescending tone, “After you.”

Straightening my back, I walked toward the house, trying to exude a confidence I wasn’t feeling. I had no idea where we were, and by allowing Brox to leave my cell phone in my truck, I’d taken away any chance of Joe or James finding me with my phone finder app.

The man stayed in the doorway and gave me a leer. “You’re a pretty one.”

I lifted my eyebrows and said in a cold tone, “I’m here for a business meeting. If you’re lookin’ for a girlfriend, I suggest you download a dating app.”

Brox busted up laughing behind me, but the doorway guy scowled in a way that told me I’d made a new enemy.

“Carey, move to the side and let her in,” a man said inside. It was the voice on the phone.

Carey didn’t look too happy about being told what to do, or perhaps he took umbrage with the way I was staring at him like he was an annoying housefly, but after a second he backed up into the room.

I stepped into a room so dark I could hardly get my bearings. The two windows were covered with heavy blankets that blocked out most of the light, and a window on the left side wall was covered as well. I could see outlines of a table and chairs as well as a sofa in front of the window. A figure sat at the far end of the table and another figure stood in front of the window to the left, both of them swathed in shadows.

“Did you check her for weapons?” the man to the left asked.

“Look at her,” Brox said as he walked in behind me, shutting the door. “She weighs next to nothin’.”

If it kept him from checking me for weapons, I was happy to be underestimated. “I’m here, and I don’t want to stay here all day, so why don’t we get this meeting started?”

“Have a seat, Lady,” the man from the phone said.

“That’s okay,” I said. “After lyin’ down in the backseat of Brox’s tiny car, I think I’ll stand.”

“I don’t like lookin’ up at you,” the man said. “I’d prefer we were at a more equal level.”

“Well, considerin’ I feel like I’m in a cave meeting a vampire, I’m not sure what difference it makes.”

“Humor me,” he said.

My eyes were adjusting to the dark, and I could see the kitchen chair at the opposite end of the table. I pulled it out and the legs scraped against the wood floor. Once I was seated, I asked, “What’s with all the secrecy?”

“I’m a private man, Lady. I don’t let many people see me. That makes you special.”

Maybe only semi-special since I hadn’t really seen him at this point, but that was splitting hairs. “You have a name for me; what should I call you?”

“Gerard will do.”

So this wasn’t Denny? But now that I thought about it, these guys didn’t look like drug dealers. If anything, they looked like doomsday preppers. Were they one of the militia groups rumored to be hiding in the woods? Supposedly there were a couple of them. “You said you had information about a file, Gerard. How about we get to that?”

“I thought we’d start with some pleasantries first.”

I drummed my fingers on the table. “If you were concerned with pleasantries, you’d turn on a lamp or two and maybe offer me a cup of tea, but since neither of those things seem to be in order, I vote that we get down to business.”

“She’s too mouthy,” the guy by the side window said. As my eyes grew more accustomed to the dark, I could see he was in a small kitchen, standing in front of what looked to be a sink with an old-fashioned pump handle. “I don’t like ’er.”

“Good thing it’s not up to you,” Brox said. “It’s up to Gerard.”

“Brox is right, Tony. We’ve all known from the beginning that you wanted no part of this, but you were outvoted.” Gerard turned to me, and my eyes had adjusted enough by now that I could vaguely see his features. He looked older, maybe sixties based on his white hair and beard. “We’ve heard about you, Lady. We hear you’re neutral. Is that true?”

“Yes.”

“Then how do you explain your connection to Skeeter Malcolm?”

I considered telling him to mind his own business, but if he was really a player in this dangerous game, then I needed to prove my neutrality. “It’s no secret that I worked with Skeeter Malcolm last winter. We cooperated to bring down Mick Gentry and J.R. Simmons, but I did it for the good of the county, not for personal gain.”

“But you helped Malcolm.”

“We had a deal. He got me access to the people I needed to speak to, and I gave him bits of information.” Then I added, “He is the king of the Fenton County crime world. It only seemed appropriate.”

“We recognize no king,” Tony said in disgust. “This is the United States of America. We threw off tyranny over two hundred years ago.”

That was good to know. It fit with my impression that they were one of the militias. But they tended to stick to themselves, so why was I here talking to them about my neutrality as the Lady in Black?

“Be quiet, Tony,” Brox sneered.

“Yes, Tony,” Gerard said. “Be silent or leave.”

Tony thought about it for a couple of seconds and then stomped toward the door, throwing it open as he left. It slammed shut behind him, but the light that spilled in gave me a much better look at my host.

I’d guessed wrong about his age. He looked a little younger than I’d thought at first, maybe late fifties. His white beard reached several inches below his chin, and his salt-and-pepper hair was several inches long and in need of a good trim. He was wearing a solid black T-shirt, and I thought I caught a glimpse of jeans before the door shut.

“I apologize for Tony’s outburst. Some of us are slow to adapt,” Gerard said in a sober voice. He sounded sad.

“As long as Tony leaves me be, he can be as slow to adapt as he likes.”

Gerard shifted in his chair. “I heard you were no-nonsense, but I didn’t expect you to be this direct.”

“Because I’m a woman? And who did you hear this from?”

“I have my sources, which is how I know about Kip Wagner’s missing file.”

“Do you know who bought it?”

“Perhaps.” He sounded amused, and I realized that as much as he hoped to appear practical, he was really all about the drama—from setting the stage to his cloak-and-dagger performance. “I thought we could work out a deal.”

“What kind of deal?”

“I want to know what Mason Deveraux is doin’ back in Fenton County.”

“And what makes you think I know?”

“You used to live in sin with the man. That’s why you really helped Malcolm last winter—to save him. I can’t figure out your motivation now.”

“I already told you. To protect the county as best I can. I saw firsthand the terror Daniel Crocker unleashed. He killed my own mother. I won’t let that happen to any other innocents. Not if I can help it.”

“So you propose to stop people from being murdered?” he asked, sounding amused.

“If I can, yeah. And for the record, Mason and I are not back together. He’s here on official attorney general business. You’ll have to find another source for that because he and I are no longer speaking.”

Gerard stood. “I abhor liars, Lady.”

His cold tone sent a wave of fear through my veins. “Well, good for you. You can join that datin’ app with Carey over there and put it in your profile.”

“I will not tolerate lies from you.”

I stood too, because if I had to sit while he sat, then that meant I could stand when he did . . . and I could also reach my gun faster this way. “And how did I lie to you?”

“You know why Deveraux’s here, yet you refuse to tell me.”

“Let me make this perfectly clear, Mr. Gerard. Just because you ask me a question, doesn’t mean I owe you an answer. In fact, I don’t owe you a doggone thing.”

He was standing in front of me, and I could feel the tension radiating from him as easily as I could smell the scent of wood chips and bacon in his clothes. He was trying to intimidate me, but I had to stand my ground, no matter how much I wanted to turn around and run out the front door.

“I invited you here,” he said. “You came.”

“You must be an alternate-facts kind of guy because we both know that’s not how this played out. I didn’t just hop in Brox’s car and eagerly come to meet you. He showed me his gun. He refused to let me into my truck. You used force and intimidation to get me here, so don’t try to paint this as if I’m breaching some nonexistent agreed-upon contract.”

He held his ground, and I started debating whether to go for my gun or my keys—the keys would be easier to reach standing this close to him, but I knew they had guns.

“She’s right, Gerard,” Brox said. “She didn’t agree to nothin’ except discussing the file.”

“Fine,” Gerard spat out as he backed up. “But I’m not just gonna give the information to you. You have to earn it.”

I didn’t like the term earn. “You said you wanted information, but unfortunately, I’m unable to answer the question you asked me. If there’s something else you’d like to ask, and I feel that I can answer it, I will. Otherwise, you’ll have to come up with something else.”

“I’m the one callin’ the shots here, Lady.”

“Actually, Gerard, you’re not. We’re workin’ out a deal, and if we don’t reach an agreement, then we’ll go our separate ways. Now if you have something specific to ask me, feel free, otherwise I’ll have Brox take me back to my truck. I’m supposed to meet with Skeeter Malcolm, Tim Dermot, and Kip Wagner in a few hours, and they won’t appreciate it if I keep them waiting.”

“Not Carmichael?” he asked as though he knew something I didn’t.

“Did Denny Carmichael buy the file?” It had been my best guess all along, but would Gerard really have thrown his name out there if he was the buyer?

“That’ll cost you.”

“Name your price.”

But the more I studied Gerard, the more I suspected I wouldn’t be willing to give him anything. What role did he and his group of younger friends have to do with the crime world, anyway?

“I wanna know what Deveraux’s doin’ back in Fenton County,” he repeated.

I put a hand on my hip. “And as I mentioned before, that is off the table.”

He stared me down, and I finally said, “Okay. We’re done. Brox, let’s go.”

“You’re not going to leave,” Gerard said. “You want that buyer’s name too much.”

“Your price is too steep. If you think of something else, give me a call. No offense, but I’m not finding your cabin getaway very hospitable.” I flicked my gaze to the tall man behind me. “Brox.”

Brox moved next to me and waited.

After several seconds, Gerard waved toward the door. “Fine. Go.”

“Gerard!” Carey protested.

“It’s within her right to walk away,” Gerard said, although he didn’t sound happy about it. “I brought her here to negotiate, and she’s not willing to work out a deal. She’ll be sorry tonight.”

I hadn’t heard from Wagner since he’d shown up at my house two nights ago. He’d been at the sheriff’s office last night. Did Gerard have inside information that Wagner was planning to return tonight? Then I realized I’d name-dropped Wagner with the others. It was just as likely he didn’t know anything.

Gerard waved to the door again. “Go.”

We’d made it onto the front porch when I saw Tony running toward us from the trees. “We’ve got company!”

Gerard was instantly behind me, staring down Brox. “Were you followed?”

“No.”

“Are you certain?”

“Yes! I’m sure of it.”

Tony reached the porch steps. “There’s a car comin’.”

A dark sedan rounded the curve in the road up ahead, and I recognized the car . . . and the driver.

“Carey,” Gerard barked into the cabin. “Get the rifles.” He reached for my arm, but I scampered back several feet, pulling out my own gun and pointing it at his chest in one fell swoop.

Surprise filled Gerard’s eyes, followed quickly by anger. I’d bet good money he was pissed he’d been hoodwinked by a woman.

Gerard reached for me again, but I fired the gun at the frame of the cabin door, sending wood fragments everywhere. A large splinter lodged in Gerard’s upper arm.

I leveled the gun at his chest. “The next bullet’s gonna be in your body, and since you seem to know so much about me, you must know I’ve shot and killed a few men before you.”

The car came to a halt and I heard James shout, “Let her go, Gerard. Whatever you think she’s done, she’s no part of this.”

Hate filled Gerard’s eyes. Still staring at me, he shouted, “Seems like it’s the other way around, Malcolm.”

I heard a gun cock and saw Carey and Brox holding semiautomatic rifles pointed in the direction of James’ car.

“Had I known you were gonna use those guns on me, I never would have sold them to you,” James said.

“I told you I was gonna use them to protect me and mine,” Gerard said. “So you shouldn’t be surprised to see them given you’ve driven up onto our land uninvited.”

“You have something that interests me,” James said, his voice tight. “So I came to fetch it.”

“Lady?” Gerard asked in disgust. “I can’t figure out why you’re all so enamored with her. She’s disposable.”

“Dermot disagrees.”

“And you,” Gerard said with a grin.

He was about to pull a stunt.

“Let me make this perfectly clear, boys,” I said, thankful my voice didn’t shake even though my heart was racing. “If you take so much as one shot at Mr. Malcolm, I will not hesitate to shoot Gerard.”

“Hold your fire!” Gerard shouted, losing his grin right quick. “She’ll do it.”

“Okay,” James said calmly. “I want you to send Lady over to me. Then we’ll be on our way.”

Gerard motioned behind him. “Brox, you got us into this mess, you take care of it.”

Brox dropped his rifle to the porch floor and circled behind Gerard. “I’m gonna walk you to the car, Lady. You can point your gun at me if you like.”

I stared up at him like he’d lost his mind.

“I’m giving you thirty seconds to get out of here,” Gerard said. “And don’t you ever come back, Malcolm.”

“Don’t give me reason to.”

Brox backed up, motioning for me to follow. As soon as I moved past Gerard, he stepped between Carey and Tony. He motioned for me to go down the stairs, which I did backward, still keeping my gun trained on Gerard. He seemed the least disposable of the lot of them.

“Bring her to the back door,” James said as I continued to retreat.

Brox stepped in front of me so we were face-to-face as I backed up to the car, so close I no longer had Gerard in my sight.

When we were about six feet from the car, James swung the back door open, and Brox leaned closer. “It’s not Carmichael,” he whispered. “He was throwing you off. It was someone closer to the case you’ve been workin’ on.” Then we were next to the car, and he gave me a tiny shove toward the open door.

I scampered inside, and Brox shut the door, but James was still standing next to his open door, aiming his handgun toward the porch. “Our upcomin’ deal is off.”

“I already paid you a down payment of half,” Gerard shouted. “Two hundred weapons.”

“Then I’ll return it,” James said, beginning to sound angry.

“All because of her?” Gerard asked in disbelief.

“And because you used my own guns against me.”

“Because of her,” Gerard repeated.

“If you want to see it that way, go ahead. You had no reason to take her, other than to get to me. What’s your game, Gerard?”

“Why don’t you ask her why she was here? Now get out of here before I change my mind.”

James got into the car and shut the door, jerking the steering wheel to turn around and head out on the gravel road. “Keep your head down,” he barked.

I stayed down. He was so tense he looked ready to snap in two.

“What did he mean?” James demanded in a sharp tone. “Why did he bring you here?”

“He wanted to make a deal.”

“What kind of deal?”

“He said he knew who bought Wagner’s file. He wanted to barter for the information.”

“What did he want you to tell him?”

“He seemed fixated on Mason being back. He asked me multiple times what Mason was up to. I told him I wasn’t going to tell him anything.”

His knuckles turned white from gripping the steering wheel so tight. “Did he touch you?”

“What? No. I made clear no one was to touch me, and for the most part they obeyed.”

“Gerard kidnapped you and let you dictate terms?” he asked, shooting a glance at me.

“I told you he wanted to work out a deal.”

“Does he know about your visions too?”

“No. I pinned him down on that one, and as far as I could tell, he doesn’t have a clue. If anything, he seems confused about your and Dermot’s interest in me.”

He was quiet for a moment. “The file was just a distraction to throw you off. You were right . . . he’s concerned about Deveraux.”

“Why?”

“Because Deveraux had Simmons building a case against Gerard, and last I heard, Simmons is still workin’ on it. It was heavy on suspicion and light on evidence. But Gerard must have screwed up somewhere down the line, and now he’s worried Deveraux’s back to indict him.” James looked concerned.

“What’s that mean for you?”

“I’ve done a few deals with him. It could blow back on me.”

My stomach seized. “Deals? Gun deals?”

He was silent.

“I already know you sold him those semiautomatic rifles. He said as much. You were in the process of sellin’ him more?” I asked in an accusatory tone.

“He’s a paranoid prepper, Rose. He’s preparing for end of days. He’s not out usin’ them for drive-by shootings or robbing banks. Easy money.”

“He must be doin’ something wrong if Joe and Mason were building a case on him.”

James remained silent.

“You’re not gonna tell me?” I asked, getting pissed.

“You already know too damn much!” he shouted. “You’re already at risk.”

That stopped me in my tracks. “What does that mean?”

“It means if Gerard gets arrested, he’s gonna bring me down with him, and you’re a potential witness.”

I shook my head. “What?”

“It’s gonna be his word against mine, and there’s no electronic trail for these deals. We only deal in cash, so it could all hinge on witnesses.”

I sank back into the seat as horror made me dizzy. “Mason’s not leavin’.”

“What?”

I felt nauseous. “He’s movin’ back to rip the county apart. He’s goin’ after corruption in the local government. He’s goin’ after crime.” I paused and found his gaze in the mirror. “And he’s specifically goin’ after you.”

He was silent for a moment, his face giving nothing away. “He told you this?”

“He never admitted that he’s goin’ after you, but it was strongly implied after he confessed the other parts.” My voice broke. “He’s out for revenge, James. For breakin’ us apart.”

“He’s got nothin’. I’m careful, and I’ve also got Carter Hale. Don’t worry about me.”

“But you just said he’s goin’ after Gerard and they can make me testify what I just heard.”

He shook his head. “We’re borrowing trouble,” he said, then waited a beat before he asked, “I take it you didn’t find out who bought the file?”

“No . . . I refused to tell him what he wanted. He got really pissed, but Brox intervened.”

“What do you mean he intervened?”

“He reminded Gerard that he’d pretty much dragged me there—an unwilling participant in brokering a deal. Then he backed off.”

“Gerard has a bizarre sense of honor and truthfulness. Brox must have appealed to that. What’s surprising is that Brox intervened at all. He’s the least likely of all of them to cross his father.”

“His father? They all treated him like he was their boss.” But it made sense. The ages lined up. “Maybe he felt guilty because he was the one who essentially kidnapped me.”

“He doesn’t usually bring people to his land. One more reason to believe he’s spooked.”

And from the look on James’ face, he was spooked too.

“When Brox walked me to the car, he told me that Carmichael didn’t buy the file. He said it was someone closer to my case.”

His gaze lifted to mine in the mirror. “Patsy was found dead this afternoon.”

I gasped. “What? When? How?”

“She was strangled. A farmer found her in her car in his field south of town.”

“Does Neely Kate know?”

“Jed told her. He’s the one who told me.” He pushed out a breath. “How did Gerard know about the file? Or you for that matter? He keeps to his land, preparing to fight back when the government marches in to take his property. He stays out of county affairs.”

“He knew an awful lot about what was goin’ on for someone who remains aloof. Maybe one of his sons convinced him to diversify.”

“Maybe.”

“We need to find that file. Did Jed talk to Charlene?”

“He found her.”

“What does that mean?”

“She was dead. Her trailer burned down around one. They’re sayin’ her mother’s oxygen tank exploded.”

My mouth dropped open, but I recovered enough to ask, “Did Jed or you have any part of this explosion?”

“No,” he barked. “I told you I wouldn’t kill her.” Then he added. “And I didn’t approve or condone anyone else doin’ it either.”

“Then who burned down her trailer and murdered her? The person who bought the file? And if so, does that mean they were watching Charlene or watching me and Neely Kate?”

Who would be that desperate for whatever was in that file? Who had enough money and yet was the least threatening potential buyer?

Then it hit me like a lightning bolt. How could I be so stupid? I knew exactly where I needed to go next.