NO SAFE ROAD

The Trade

Chapter Twelve

Cole didn’t answer Tessa right away.

That alone told Mara everything she needed to know.

The room had gone quiet in a way that felt almost physical, like the walls themselves were waiting to hear what came next. Tessa stood in the doorway with her phone in one hand and a look on her face that suggested she had already decided this was all a problem and could not believe it was still getting worse.

Mara stared at Cole. “What did he mean, tell the sheriff where the drive is?”

Cole’s eyes stayed on Tessa’s phone. “He means he wants leverage.”

Mara’s throat tightened. “He doesn’t know where it is.”

Cole finally looked at her. “Do you know that?”

The question landed hard.

Mara’s mouth went dry. “I burned the files.”

“I know.”

“That’s not the same thing.”

“No,” Cole said. “It isn’t.”

Tessa gave an impatient breath. “Can someone explain this without making me age a year?”

Cole held out a hand for the phone. Tessa handed it over, and he looked down at the screen. Mara saw the message only briefly, enough to catch the shape of it before he locked the phone again.

Bring her out, and I tell Mott where the rest of it is.

Mara went cold all the way through.

“There is no rest of it,” she said.

Cole’s attention moved back to her. “You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

He held her gaze for a beat too long. “Then he’s bluffing.”

Tessa folded her arms. “That’s not exactly comforting.”

“No,” Cole said. “But it’s useful.”

Mara looked between them. “Useful how?”

Cole handed the phone back to Tessa. “Because it means he’s scared.”

Mara blinked. “Derek?”

“Yes.”

“That seems… optimistic.”

Cole’s face didn’t change, but his voice lowered. “Men don’t bluff with police unless they think the truth is worse.”

That chilled her more than she wanted to admit.

Tessa looked at him. “You think he still has something.”

Cole glanced toward the door, then back at Mara. “I think he has someone.”

Mara felt her stomach drop. “Who?”

Cole didn’t answer immediately.

That silence was worse than the others.

“Cole,” she said, more sharply.

He looked at her then, and whatever he saw on her face made something in his expression harden.

“Not here,” he said.

Her hands clenched. “You keep doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“Stopping halfway through the truth.”

Cole’s jaw flexed. “Because every piece of this room is listening.”

That got the room around them back into focus. The door, the hallway, the muffled noise of the clubhouse, the sense that their private conversation was happening in the middle of a war zone disguised as a meeting room.

Mara dropped her voice. “Then where?”

Cole looked at Tessa. “Get the sheriff out there talking.”

Tessa gave him a flat look. “That sounds suspiciously like your problem.”

“It is.”

“And yet.”

He held her gaze.

She rolled her eyes and left, muttering something under her breath about men with authority complexes.

Mara watched her go, then turned back to Cole. “Who has he got?”

Cole did not answer immediately.

When he finally did, it was low and careful. “A witness, maybe. Or someone who can make your statement disappear.”

Mara stared at him. “You’re saying there’s another person involved.”

“I’m saying this was too coordinated to be just Derek and a sheriff with a bad habit of overstepping.”

Mara’s skin prickled. “You think the county’s involved.”

“I think somebody wants the same thing Derek does.”

The room felt colder.

Mara looked toward the window, then back at Cole. “And you’re not telling me because?”

“Because if I’m wrong, I don’t want to hand you a name you’ll repeat to the wrong person.”

The answer was practical. It should have reassured her.

It didn’t.

Instead it made her feel the full pressure of how little she actually knew. About Derek. About the files. About the people who might be circling this mess from the outside.

She swallowed. “What do we do now?”

Cole took a slow breath through his nose. “Now we find out whether Derek’s lying or whether he’s trying to trade up.”

Mara frowned. “Trade up?”

Cole’s mouth flattened. “He might be trying to hand you to someone else.”

The blood drained from her face.

Tessa returned before she could say anything, a sharp look on her face and the kind of clipped energy that meant the sheriff was getting increasingly unpleasant outside.

“He’s getting impatient,” she said.

Cole nodded once. “Good.”

Tessa looked at him like he’d lost his mind. “Good?”

“He’s making noise because the pressure’s not landing.”

Mara’s brows drew together. “That’s supposed to be good?”

Cole finally looked at her fully. “It means he’s losing control.”

The words should have helped.

Instead they made her think of Derek when he lost control, which was never clean and never quiet.

A terrible, familiar dread moved through her.

Cole noticed it instantly. “Hey.”

The word stopped her more than she wanted it to.

He stepped closer, and this time he didn’t stop at arm’s length. Not touching her. Just close enough that she could feel the heat of him, see the bruise on his jaw, the split knuckle, the fatigue hiding beneath the control.

“You’re here,” he said. “You’re not going back out there alone.”

Mara looked up at him. “I’m starting to wonder if you mean that as comfort or confinement.”

His gaze held hers. “Does it matter?”

It should have.

It didn’t.

Before she could answer, the front room erupted in a sudden, angry shout.

All three of them turned.

Tessa was already moving. “That’s not good.”

Cole swore once, low. “Stay here.”

Mara’s temper flared immediately. “I’m done staying here.”

Cole turned back to her with a look sharp enough to stop her cold. “Then stay alive.”

That shut her up for one dangerous second.

He was already moving toward the door by the time she found her voice again.

“Cole.”

He paused.

Mara swallowed hard. “If Derek really has someone else, and if the sheriff is dirty—”

Cole looked back at her. “Then this is bigger than either of us thought.”

The admission landed like a stone in her gut.

Then he opened the door and the sound from the clubhouse crashed in around him—shouting, fast footsteps, the scrape of chairs, and Tessa’s voice cutting through it all with a sharp, furious command.

Mara took one step after him.

Then another.

And then she stopped, because in the middle of the room beyond, Derek Shaw stood with one hand raised and a smile that made Mara’s skin crawl.

He looked directly at her.

And behind him, in the open doorway, Sheriff Mott was no longer alone.