Her words cut deep, and she read that on me. She deflated. “It seems that Val-Du-Lys has a history of missing people.”
“The cases aren’t connected,” I snapped. At least I didn’t think they were. Rosalie Bellerose died because she was married to a crime lord. Mom left because of Maggie’s death, which was deemed accidental. And then there were a few other people like Sophie who disappeared because they used the help of the Belleroses to gain illegal access to the United States and never made it across the border safely. Just last year, news broke of afamily who had frozen to death along the way. She went quiet, and that seemed to be rare.
“Asher, Nico was there the night I said goodbye to Sophie. He was at the meet up point. He may have seen something,” she went on.
“Or he may have killed her himself,” I shot back. I felt terrible when she winced.
“Sorry, Claire,” I let out a breath. “Nico isn’t a good guy. My brother Eric went to high school with him.”
She watched me carefully. “You could’ve told me Harmony Bellerose was your sister-in-law.”
“She’s Harmony Thorne now, and it doesn’t matter because Harmony was never part of that world.”
She kicked the dirt. “Look, Sophie’s mom was killed last year. It was her ex-husband. He abused her for years. That’s why Sophie wanted to leave Canada. She was seeking safety, and her mother couldn’t afford to get them both over the border.”
I sighed and ran my fingers through my hair, feeling her pain, my whole body deflated. “I’m sorry, that’s tough.”
“Yeah, it is. Do you understand why I need justice for Sophie now?” She watched me intently.
At this point, I couldn’t lie. “I get it.”
“Okay.” She turned and got back into her car before I had a chance to say anything else. Then she hit the gas and took off. I just hoped that wherever she was going she’d stay safe. In the meantime, I finished training since I had a fight coming up. But I made a mental note to speak with Becket. Maybe he had heard about Sophie’s case or maybe his female friend in Montreal could do some digging. Marcel Bellerose may have been laying low, but he was still around still doing bad things under the radar.
CHAPTER 6
Claire
My hands were still shaking when I pulled onto the road. I told myself it was adrenaline. Anger. Leftover frustration from the argument. But the truth sat heavier than that.You don’t understand who you’re dealing with.Asher’s voice replayed in my head, calm but unyielding. Not a threat. A warning. I tightened my grip on the steering wheel and forced myself to breathe as the town lights came into view. I hated that part of me wanted to prove him wrong. Hated even more that another part of me suspected he wasn’t. The Frosted Mug glowed ahead, familiar and deceptively unassuming. I parked farther away, choosing the edge of the lot instead of the front. When I shut off the engine, I sat there for a moment, grounding myself. Confrontation wouldn’t get me answers. Asher was right about that much. Patience would.
I pushed inside and scanned the room before choosing a small corner table. Just out of the way. Somewhere I could watch without being obvious. I slid my laptop from my bag and opened it, the familiar glow settling my nerves. The bar hummed with low conversation. Pool balls cracked in the back. A few men clustered near the counter, nursing beers like they’d been doingit together for years. I started with what I knew. Searches on border crossings and missing persons tied to Val-du-Lys and nearby towns. I cross-referenced dates, names and patterns. A shadow fell across the table.
“You look like you could use something warm.” I glanced up to find a woman with kind eyes and a no-nonsense posture, holding a coffee pot. “On the house,” she added.
“Thank you,” I said, surprised.
“I’m Kammy,” she said. “I own the place. You’re new.” It wasn’t a question.
“Claire,” I replied. “Is it that obvious?”
Kammy smiled gently. “Small town. Everyone knows everyone around here.”
I hesitated, then gestured to the empty chair. “Do you mind?”
She sat, pouring coffee into my mug.
“So,” she said lightly, “what brings you to Val-du-Lys?”
There it was again. I didn’t answer right away. “I’m working at the orchard,” I said finally. “For the season.”
Her brows lifted slightly. “Ah, that explains why I saw Asher Thorne in here with you the other day.”
I blushed, wondering if she caught on to our interaction.
“I don’t know. Does he normally follow his employees around town?” I asked, trying to hide my irritation.
She giggled. “Only the pretty ones.”
“That isn’t reassuring,” I countered.