Deke had buried himself in a shit storm.

Seeing Evie at Dylan’s place had thrown him off his game so badly that he was still trying to recover his wits.

Why had she returned to Rockton? How had she found him? What the hell was he going to do about her?

She’d caught enough of his conversation with Matteo to grasp that he was investigating Dylan’s case. With Matteo and Jax. And she thought he had a girlfriend. Believed he could be intimate with her while being involved with someone else.

Shit. Storm.

If she were someone he barely knew, he’d write off the whole incident. But Evie was too enmeshed in his personal life. Sister to his best friend. One comment about this to Britt, and his friend would not only kick his ass, he’d shove his boot into his neck.

Britt’s ability to hand him his ass wasn’t what bothered him the most. The hurt he’d caused Evie sat on his chest like an anchor stuck in the sand. Knowing she’d left believing him capable of such heartless behavior stung.

Did she not understand how much he cared for her? Yearned for her?

He’d wanted nothing more than to kiss the pain from her deep blue eyes. Ask her to trust him. Beg her to stay. The betrayal in her expression still haunted him.

He could have set her straight, but that would have required more explanation than he could afford. No matter his personal situation, he couldn’t reveal details about SONR. Their work reached across the globe and left a lasting, positive impact on the environment. Every poaching ring they stopped meant thousands of plants and animals saved, which preserved ecological diversity and maintained healthy ecosystems, for everyone—humans, wildlife, and plants.

One word about SONR to the wrong person could sideline their efforts and derail their momentum. Not to mention the devastation that could happen to the wild populations they protected.

Lisa’s warning about keeping his lies to a minimum bubbled to the surface. Staying true to his friendship with Evie while protecting SONR was a damn sight harder task than he’d envisioned.

“You gonna tell me where we’re headed?” Keone asked, breaking through his self-recrimination.

After breakfast, he’d met up with Keone, who’d completed his interview with Scott Orin. Dylan’s friend had proved as enlightening as his ex, which was to say not at all.

“My brother left me a message, at his apartment.”

“What kind of message?”

“Gold Star and Lean-to.”

“Since we’re hiking in the woods, I take it you have a hunch.”

“When things got bad at home, Dylan and I would hike to the far reaches of our parents’ property, to a bluff that overlooked Swins Hollow.”

“Sounds peaceful.”

“It was. We erected a lean-to where the woods met the stone outcropping, so that we could hang there even in bad weather.”

“How long has it been since you last visited?”

“Years. The structure’s probably plummeted over the cliff by now.”

“I’m bringing my internal investigation on the team to a close. I’ve been unable to find any evidence that a member of SONR leaked information to the Distributor.”

“You’ve exhausted all possible scenarios, used every available resource?”

“Yes and yes.”

Some of the tightness left his shoulders. “Then close it.”

“You know what this means.”

“I do.” Someone at headquarters, with knowledge of SONR’s activities, had to be colluding with the Distributor.

They hiked for another ten minutes before the woods thinned and limestone took the place of the forest floor. Pushing through a tangle of vines and brambles, Deke’s chest clenched at the familiar view.

The bluff rose above the trees, revealing undulating waves of green that faded into a brilliant cerulean sky in the distance.

Up here, the wind whisked away every worry, every pain, every mistake. Up here, he could just be—no past, no present, no future. A man in the moment.

“Is that your lean-to?” Keone asked.

He glanced over his shoulder, surprised to find the wooden structure preserved and their sparse furnishings in pretty good shape.

“Looks like your brother still visits.”

Ignoring the pressure building in his chest, he searched the small space with the same methodical precision he’d used in Dylan’s apartment.

“What are we looking for?”

“Anything unusual.”

Keone sent him a how-would-I-know look.

The confined space took only a few minutes to search.

“Got anything?” Keone asked.

“Nothing.” He checked the exterior perimeter. Still nothing. He waved Keone over. “Give me a boost up.”

Keone clasped his hands together and he stepped into his second-in-command’s grip. The extra two feet was enough for him to see the slanted roof was clear, too.

“Dammit.” He hopped down. “I’m going to kill that little pecker.”

“Hold on.” Keone stared inside the scanty lean-to. “He sent you up here because only you would notice if something was out of place.” His gaze caught Deke’s. “So what’s out of place?”

Frustration burned like hot coals beneath his skin. He couldn’t see past the possibility that his brother had sent him on a wild goose chase. While images of him strangling Dylan surfaced, his gaze studied the wooden planks, plastic milk crate that served as a table, lidded plasticware bowl that held cards, dice, and matches, two lawn chairs, a blue one for him and a green one for Dylan, the—

He frowned and refocused on the chairs. Something wasn’t right. Something about—

“They’re switched.”

“Come again?”

“I always sat on the right and Dylan on the left. The blue chair is mine, but it’s been moved to the left side.”

Picking up his chair, he scanned the rocky ground beneath. Keone did the same with the green one. He stomped the ground for good measure.

“What are you doing?” Deke asked.

“Making sure the ground’s solid.”

“Fifty feet solid would be my guess.”

“Wait a second.” Keone pointed to the underside of Deke’s chair. “What’s that?”

Beneath the seat, he found matching colored duct tape holding something in place. “Nice camouflage.”

Separating the item from the chair, he tore away the tape to find the package wrapped in an oilcloth. He peeled back the layers to reveal a clear sealed container. Inside the container rested a smartphone.

“A phone?” Keone asked. “Why would Dylan leave you a phone?”

An image of his brother hovering over Gracie’s body rose in his mind.

“When Evie and I stumbled across Dylan kneeling beside Gracie’s corpse, he appeared to take something of hers before running off.”

They both stared down at the phone.

“Maybe he knew something on this would exonerate him.” He shook his head in frustration. “We won’t know until Jax opens it up.”

“What if Dylan took the phone out of desperation?”

“I don’t know.” He scraped a hand through his hair. “Let’s hope I don’t have to face that decision.”

Before he could take a step, a beloved voice reached him. “Where’s my son?”

He turned to find his mother with a shotgun balanced in her hands.