Dylan’s step felt like he was walking on marshmallows. Cami’s hand in his seemed like magic, and it wasn’t until he pushed into the police station that he remembered why they were there.

Sheriff Bellsby waved to them from the mouth of a hallway, and Dylan led Cami in that direction. “Did you get the tape?” he asked the Sheriff when he was close enough.

“I’m afraid not.” Sheriff Bellsby looked halfway between angry and annoyed. “And the man’s not talking.”

Frustration rose through Dylan. He just wanted to know who’d tried to get Cami fired. Or maybe they were trying to get him fired. Either way, he didn’t like not knowing. Didn’t like that Gerald didn’t really care who was at fault.

Her phone rang at that moment, and she pulled it from her purse. “It’s Gerald.”

“I already told you what he’s going to do,” Dylan said.

“I’m going to take it anyway.” She swiped on the call. “Hello, Gerald.” She walked away from Dylan and the Sheriff.

“Didn’t you say she has some sort of history with Wadsworth?”

“Her ex.”

“He asked for her.”

Dylan’s heartbeat rippled like a flag in a stiff wind. “She’s not going in there alone.”

“Funny you should say that. He specifically requested she go in there alone.”

Dylan started shaking his head before the Sheriff stopped speaking. “No. Wade was abusive. He’ll—”

“He’s handcuffed. He can’t hurt her.”

Still, Dylan didn’t like the idea of Cami being thrown to a wolf. Didn’t like it at all.

She returned, a half-smile on her face. “You were right. Now I have six days to get all the gear I need for phase two.” Her mouth was tight and she shook her head.

“I’ll help you,” he said. “Sheriff Bellsby has some good news and some bad news.”

The Sheriff looked at him in surprise. “I do?”

“Yeah, and they’re the same. Wade’s asked to see you alone.”

Cami’s eyebrows rose. “Is that the good news or the bad news?”

“It’s both.” Dylan sighed. “See what you can get him to tell us about the tape, the flooding, any of it.” He stepped closer to her and dropped his voice. “You know him. He hasn’t changed since you guys dated.” He skated his lips across her temple, almost hating himself when he added, “Push his buttons. Get him to talk.”

He pulled back and gazed at Cami, hoping she’d see and feel his desperation. They needed that tape, and Wade was their only link to it.

She nodded, the understanding and spark between them as strong as ever. “Where is he, Sheriff?”

Sheriff Bellsby lectured her about how far to stay from Wade, but that she wasn’t in any danger—he and his officers would be right outside, the conversation would be recorded, the whole nine yards.

Dylan couldn’t detect an ounce of insecurity in Cami as she stepped up to the one-way glass and looked into the room where Wade sat. She held very still, and Dylan didn’t think he could stand to see her go in there with Wade alone.

She finally turned toward the Sheriff. “I’m ready.” She didn’t look at Dylan, didn’t even so much as twitch toward him, before walking into the room.

“We’ll be able to hear her, right?” Dylan rushed toward the glass, his eyes only trained on Cami.

His question was answered when she said, “Hello, Wade,” and he could hear her voice, albeit tinny and stretched thin.

Wade didn’t answer, and Cami gave him a wide berth as she pulled out the chair opposite him and sat down. “What brings you to Three Rivers?”

Still nothing.

“I saw you at the bidding for Rivers Merge. You lost.”

His face twitched the tiniest bit, and Dylan volleyed his gaze back to Cami. She sat with her arms folded, her face expressionless. He didn’t like this version of her. This masked, emotionless version.

“And then you came back.” She leaned forward and put her hands on the table. “I saw you at the build site. It was strange, because you’d lost, and yet you had folders of information.”

He blinked. She blinked back.

“You flooded those homes, didn’t you?”

“No.”

At least she’d gotten him to talk.

She gave a mirthless laugh that chilled Dylan’s blood. “Yes, you did. We’ll get that tape and see you on it, and then you won’t be able to lie anymore.”

“The tape is gone.”

“Right,” she said. “Just like you promised you’d never come to Three Rivers. By my count, you’ve been here three times. Today’s visit makes it four, and I’m willing to bet there are more.”

“Cami,” he said, and Dylan never wanted him to say her name again. His fists curled at his sides and he worked to unfurl them.

He shook his head, the softness that had entered his face evaporating.

“What is it, Wade?” She leaned closer, and Dylan’s internal alarms went off.

“Scoot back,” he whispered, keeping a close eye on Wade.

Wade looked at the one-way glass and said, “Look up the architect. That’s all I’m going to say.” He pressed his lips together, and Cami waited several long seconds before standing.

She rejoined them in the hall, a sigh heaving from her chest. “He means it when he says that’s all he’s going to say.”

“Who’s the architect?” Sheriff Bellsby asked.

“Thomas Martin,” Dylan said, his mind whirring. “He lived here in Three Rivers until he was twelve. He was at the diner at the same time as me. We talked for a few minutes, then he got his food to go, and he left.” Dylan watched Wade behind the glass, slumped at the shoulders.

“I get a weird vibe from Thomas,” Dylan said. “I can’t put my finger on it, but there’s something not right about him.”

“Maybe he was at the diner with you to make sure Wade had enough time to get the tape.” Cami looked at him with hope in her eyes. “Maybe they’re working together.”

“Not if Wade just named him,” Sheriff Bellsby said. “Let me get my men on finding this Thomas Martin fella.”

“That won’t be necessary.”

Dylan spun to find Thomas standing right behind him, a small tape in his hand. “I believe you were looking for this.” He extended the tape to the Sheriff but he never tore his disgruntled gaze from Cami.

Who was he? Why didn’t he like Cami? Why had he announced the winning bids and not Gerald, who had to work with all the winners? Dylan couldn’t answer any of his questions.

Things happened fast after that. Dylan and Cami went with the Sheriff to a viewing room, while Thomas was taken to a holding room until they could question him.

Sheriff Bellsby put the tape in and told the technician to find Sunday evening. They watched in fast-forward until the sun set.

“There,” the Sheriff said, but the technician had already slowed the footage. A plain, unmarked, white van pulled up to the curb, parking halfway out of the frame.

It didn’t matter that they couldn’t see the plate. Wade Wadsworth’s face was extremely recognizable as he got out of the van and opened the back. He collected some tools and made his way onto the build site, first entering homesite five. Then six. Then seven.

“He’s our guy,” Sheriff Bellsby said. He left Dylan and Cami sitting in the tiny tech room.

“How does Thomas play into this?” Dylan asked.

She looked as perplexed as he felt.

Maisie.

Dylan pulled out his phone, saying, “Stupid.”

“What?” Cami asked, peering at his screen as he pulled up an Internet browser.

“At the diner, I asked about his sister. He said she’d passed away. I thought I should look her up, but I didn’t have time.” He tapped and waited for the pages to load.

He found her obituary—and several other articles about doctor incompetence. He only had to scan a few lines of the article to know what was going on.

“Cami,” he said. “Your brother was sued for medical malpractice in the death of Maisie Martin.”

He looked up as if in slow motion. Cami stared at him in the same dream-like way. Then everything rushed forward again. “Let me see.” She snatched the phone from his hand and her eyes flipped left and right as she read.

“So he’s here for revenge,” she said, her face a mask of agony. She’d told Dylan she didn’t talk to her brother much—at least beyond arguing over fair wages for women.

In a single breath, her tortured expression dissolved, replaced with the fire Dylan often saw in her. “But what does Wade have to do with it?”

“He’s the grunt man,” Dylan said, shrugging. “He’s probably getting paid a lot of money, and he’s been promised that once you’re gone, he’ll get the bid on the rest of the phases.”

“Why not just give it to him, if that’s what Thomas wanted to do?”

“This way hurts more. Discredits you. Could ruin you right when you’re buying the business here.” Dylan was just guessing. He honestly didn’t know why Thomas was so upset. It sounded like his sister had come into the emergency room with a five percent chance of living after a devastating car accident.

“The charges were dismissed,” Cami said, her gaze dropping back to the dark screen.

“It’s been ten years,” Dylan said.

She lifted her eyes to his. “A long time to plan to ruin me, a woman who barely talks to her brother.”

“I called a friend in Amarillo to come question Thomas,” Sheriff Bellsby said. “He’s just arrived and been briefed.” He gestured for them to follow him, and Dylan tucked Cami’s hand in his as they went to another room with a one-way window.

Two men went into the room where Thomas stood staring at them through the window. He turned toward the pair of detectives, his face a placid mask of non-emotion.

Introductions were made. Small talk happened. Finally one of the detectives—a man named Detective Forge—sat at the table though Thomas hadn’t yet. “So tell us about the tape you gave to Sheriff Bellsby.”

“Wade Wadsworth brought it to the Rivers Merge build site and gave it to the construction foreman, Gerald Burnis. He claimed I had hired him to flood those three houses, which is preposterous.” He sank into the chair opposite Detective Forge. “I designed the entire development. Why would I sabotage thirty percent of the progress?” He spread his arms wide, his voice incredulous.

Dylan knew he had a piece of paper declaring him an architect, but the man was also an excellent actor—and an absolute liar.

“He’s lying,” he whispered to Cami.

She turned to him, and he could see the wheels of her mind turning in her eyes. “He hired exclusively Three Rivers tradesmen. What if he’s trying to sabotage all of us for some reason?”

Dylan searched her expression as he tried to imagine why anyone would do that. “He’d need a really good reason for that.”

“We’ll find out what it is,” the Sheriff said. “Why don’t you two get on out of here?” He cut a glance to the one-way window. “I have a feeling these two men will open up more without you here.”

Dylan wanted to argue, wanted to stay and make sure the person responsible for the flooding was punished, but he turned away.

Wasn’t up to him. And he still needed a nap so he could finish all the work he’d fallen behind on.

He got his nap—with Cami in his arms and that ring box staring him in the face.