Bridget sighed, the puff of her breath visible in the chilly air. “It’s Jo. I’m worried she’s going to do something drastic. She’s convinced the note was meant for her, and she’s planning to set a trap or something to try to catch whoever left it.” She shook her head. “I’ve been thinking... I can’t let her go on thinking it’s all about her. I need to come clean. Tell her about my past. But I wasn’t sure how or if I should. And…” Bridget hesitated for a moment, glancing up at Kevin before continuing. “I also thought I should tell her that you know about it too. I didn’t want it to get awkward.”
Kevin blinked, feeling a warmth spread through him despite the cold wind cutting through their coats. She’d thought of him, considered his feelings about Jo knowing he was involved. That small detail meant more to him than he expected. “I appreciate that,” Kevin said, his voice softer now. “It’s fine by me. Infact…”
He hesitated, knowing he was about to drop a bombshell on her. “Actually, I came here to talk to you about telling Jo something too.”
Bridget frowned, curiosity flickering in her eyes. “What is it?”
Kevin took a deep breath. “I checked the handwriting on both notes—the one left on your door and the one I found on my car.” He paused, watching as Bridget’s expression shifted to something between confusion and apprehension. “The handwriting has a ninety-nine percent match. The same person wrote both notes.”
Bridget’s eyes widened, her face paling. “What? But how? How could they be connected?”
“I don’t know,” Kevin admitted, running a hand through his hair. “But they are. And this changes everything. Whoever left those notes knows more than we thought.”
“What does this mean?”
“It means we have to come clean,” Kevin said firmly. “You need to tell Jo everything—about your past, the thumb drive, all of it. She’s walking into something dangerous, and if she doesn’t know the full picture, she could get hurt.”
Kevin was right. Jo deserved the truth. And if thesenotes were connected, they were all in more danger than they realized.
Bridget bit her lip, glancing up at Kevin. “But… how do we explain the thumb drive? I don’t want Jo to know about how you got it from the evidence. That’s the last thing you need, getting caught up in this mess.”
Kevin frowned, nodding. He hadn’t quite figured that part out either. “We can’t tell her everything. But… there’s another way. The drive was in my bag when I got out of the hospital. That’s true. And when I looked at it, I found the coordinates.”
Bridget raised an eyebrow. “And then what? Jo’s going to wonder why we were out there that night.”
“We tell her we found the coordinates and followed them. She doesn’t need to know everything. Besides,” Kevin added with a small smile, “Jo doesn’t exactly play by the rules all the time either. She’ll understand.”
Bridget considered that, her mind whirring. He was right—Jo often bent the rules when she needed to, and she trusted them both. If they gave her enough of the truth, she’d likely let the rest slide.
“You’re right,” Bridget said softly. “It’ll be fine. We’ll explain it in a way she’ll accept.”
Kevin nodded, relieved to see her coming around. “I’ll come over tonight. We’ll tell her together. You don’t have to do this alone.”
Bridget looked up at him, gratitude and relief softening her expression. “Thank you. I’m really glad you’re in this with me.”
“Of course. We’re in this together.”
Bridget smiled, and for a moment, the cold around them didn’t seem so biting. They had a plan now—a way forward. And tonight, they’d finally come clean.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Jo sat in her car and watched as Derek McDaniels stood by his father’s grave . He’d been there the whole time she’d been talking to Sam, and she was starting to wonder how long he might linger. She took out her phone and snapped a few pictures of him.
When Derek finally turned and walked toward his car, Jo’s pulse quickened. As much as she’d told herself that grief was messy and complicated, something about the way Derek hung back, staring at the grave like it held more secrets than closure, made her uneasy.
As Derek’s taillights flickered on and his car rolled away from the cemetery, Jo shifted her car into drive, keeping a safe distance as she followed him.
The winter air was crisp, and the early-morningsun struggled to break through the gray clouds that hung over White Rock. Jo’s breath fogged the windshield for a moment before the defroster kicked in. She tightened her grip on the wheel, her eyes fixed on the road ahead.Where are you going, Derek?
Derek took a turn, heading out of town. Where in the world was he going?
She’d hoped she could catch Derek visiting a pawn shop and catch him with the bronze statue. But this road led away from the shops… and toward Thorne Construction.
Derek pulled into the dusty Thorne Industries construction site sprawled across the horizon like a half-finished fortress—steel beams reaching skyward, piles of gravel and lumber scattered like discarded toys.
Jo pulled into a dirt side road, parking behind thick evergreen shrubs. She could peek through the leaves and see Derek, but hopefully, no one could see her car.
Derek himself stepped out of the car, smoothing his tie as he scanned the area. Nervous, Jo thought. He looked like a man who didn’t belong and who knew it.