I don’t quite believe it.
Rafe clears his throat. “Let’s talk threat profile. She says she overheard something. Deal. Phones. That’s enough for a spook, not enough for this kind of pressure. Someone following her, showing up in her space? That’s escalation.”
“Agreed,” Silas says. “Which means either the ex is sloppy and panicking… or he’s not the top of the food chain.”
Rhett leans forward. “I vote not the top. Guys who are alone don’t usually have that kind of infrastructure.”
Eli nods. “And if he’s connected to something bigger, Fiona might not even be the main target. She might just be leverage.”
My jaw tightens.
Harlan glances at me. “You okay over there, cowboy? You look like you want to punch a wall.”
“I’m fine,” I say. “Just listening.”
Thorne finally turns from the window. “We should assume surveillance. If he followed her here—or tried to—he might be probing. Testing. That means we lock down her movements, rotate escorts, and keep her patterns unpredictable.”
Gavin nods. “That’s the plan.”
I shift in my seat. “She’s not a prisoner.”
“No,” Gavin says evenly. “But she is a potential target.”
There it is. The line. I get it. I really do. But it still rubs raw.
Rafe cuts in, voice calm. “We can do both. Keep her safe without making her feel caged.”
Boyd adds, “She’s tough. Doesn’t mean she should be alone.”
Silas taps the folder. “I’m going to dig deeper into the ex’s financials. Storage units, shell companies, travel records. If he’s dirty, he’s not clean enough to hide everything.”
Wyatt’s voice comes over the speaker from the tech room. “I can start scraping traffic cams and license plate readers in a fifty-mile radius. See if anyone’s been circling Timber Creek more than they should.”
Gavin nods. “Do it.” He looks around the table. “Until we know more, Fiona stays on-site or with an escort. No exceptions.”
My chest tightens again.
“Chase,” Gavin says, meeting my eyes. “You’re closest to her. You keep her company, keep her calm. You see anything off, you tell me.”
There’s a dozen responses I could give. I choose the honest one. “She doesn’t need to be interrogated.”
Gavin’s mouth tightens. “No one’s interrogating her.”
“Good,” I say. “Because she’s already on edge.”
A beat of silence.
Rafe’s gaze flicks between us. “We’re all on the same team here.”
“Yeah,” I say. “We are.”
The meeting wraps up with assignments—Silas and Wyatt on intel, Thorne and Boyd on perimeter adjustments, Harlan and Rhett on vehicle checks. Eli offers to check Fiona over “just to be safe,” and Gavin agrees.
As we stand, my attention drifts back to the window—to the clubhouse down the hill.
I can just make out movement. Laughter. Harper’s silhouette. Kayley’s. Emma’s.
And Fiona.