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Evan stuffed his hands in his back pockets. “We’re both walking on eggshells around each other. But I guess that’s better than throwing punches.”
“Yes, it is. Much better.”
“Heard anything from Hunter?”
“No. He’s around somewhere, watching. But we have no way of knowing when the thief will strike. Or if he will.”
“All right then.” He flashed a brief smile, then gestured toward the resort. “I better get going. Lots to sort out at the office.”
“See you later, Evan.” I watched his hitching gait as he retreated with purposeful strides, leaving me alone again.
Another hour passed. And, of course, my thoughts inevitably drifted back to Aiden—his ocean-blue eyes, the way they could be so warm and yet so guarded. His cautious nature had always been a puzzle, each piece meticulously placed, revealing only what he chose. Like his single-minded focus on becoming a doctor. But I understood ambition, and I understood being driven. It was fear that held us back, fear that carved the gulf between us. And most of that fear was on my side.
In my chest, something heavy shifted. Hopefully, all this thief business would get sorted out today. As soon as Ben was arrested, I’d surprise Aiden with a visit. We needed to talk and get everything out in the open. Could he convince me he had changed? I still wasn’t sure.
My phone buzzed with a text.
Hunter: It’s done. Police arriving now.
My heart lurched into a gallop. My fingers barely managed to clutch the phone as I rocketed to my feet, adrenaline surging through me. The porcelain mug slipped in my hand, coffee splashing onto the stone tiles before I rushed it to the table. I bolted down the hill, my pace reckless. As I neared the lobby building, two police cruisers came into view. No lights were flashing, but their silent presence was more ominous than any siren could be.
Reaching Orchid, my breaths came out in short, sharp gasps. A crowd had gathered by the entrance, a tangle of curious faces and hushed murmurs. Hunter stood among them, his tall and easily recognizable frame a beacon of calm authority amidst the chaos.
Skidding to a stop, I scanned the scene. Then looked it over again. It didn’t make sense, and my mouth dropped open. Matt, our prep worker who usually moved with such quiet efficiency, was now the center of attention—his wrists secured in handcuffs, his face a mask of defeat and shock.
“Matt?” I whispered, disbelief clouding my thoughts. Where was Ben?
Movement caught my eye. Ben Coleridge and his coworkers were pruning one of the palms they’d planted months ago, the same ones we’d argued next to. Now he was keeping one eye on the tree and the other on the hubbub, a hint of curiosity etched across his features as he continued working, shears snipping away methodically.
My feet carried me toward Hunter, the ground beneath them feeling strangely soft and buoyant, as if the earth itself had turned to waves.
“Matt?” My voice was quiet, but it cut through the morning air like the sail of a boat slicing through calm waters. I looked him over and noted a swelling around his left eye, the skin darkening.
Hunter’s gaze met mine, and for a moment, I saw the weight of the ordeal etching lines into his usually unflappable demeanor. “Caught him red-handed,” he confirmed, nodding gravely toward Matt. “Both orchids in his arms.” His large hands mimed the act of holding someone, a silent testament to the struggle that must have ensued. And where Matt’s black eye came from. “I restrained him until the cops showed up. He confessed as soon as he saw them.”
I followed his gesture to where the remnants of my prized plants lay scattered on the ground, their once-perfect blooms now crushed underfoot. My heart twisted at the shards of broken pottery glistening like tears. Matt stood there, the image of defeat, his shoulders slumped as the handcuffs glinted in the sunlight.
“How could you do this to us?” The question burst from me before I could rein in the hurt lacing my words. It was more than the loss of the stolen items. It was the betrayal, the trust shattered of someone I’d personally worked with. Mentored.
Matt’s eyes flickered to mine, holding a mixture of shame and defiance. He swallowed, visibly struggling to find his voice. “My mother had a greenhouse in Key Largo. She specialized in orchids and exotic flowers. She taught me how to care for them, which ones were valuable.” A bitter laugh escaped him. “I needed money. And stealing here was easy.”
“Easy?” I gasped the word, my heart thrumming painfully against my ribs.
Matt’s gaze hardened even as a sly smile rose on his lips. “Especially when everyone is so eager to blame someone else.”
His declaration hung heavy in the air, a force that seemed to push against my chest. The feeling was almost physical. Two police officers stepped forward, gripping Matt by the elbows to lead him away. He bowed his head, accepting his fate with a resignation that made my fist clench.
For a long moment, I stood there frozen as my mind worked to face the obvious. I’d been wrong—so utterly wrong about Ben. And Matt. The realization struck like a sudden, fierce storm, whipping through my thoughts and leaving clarity in its wake.
The world tilted on its axis, sending my senses spinning as I stood rooted to the spot, absorbing the revelation. Ben Coleridge, the man I had been so quick to judge, was innocent. He’d been watching Matt trudge away and now turned back to the palm tree, applying the final touches. Ben was exactly what he’d tried to tell me—a hard worker trying to start over. The taste of regret was a bitter brew that settled heavily in my stomach.
“Never ceases to amaze me,” Hunter mused next to me, his gaze fixed on the retreating figure of Matt. “It’s always the ones you least expect.”
I whipped my head back to glance at him, seeing the grave set of his jaw. “You knew?”
“Not specifically, but I learned a long time ago to keep an open mind about suspects.” He turned toward Evan and Gabe, who had joined us, their faces lined with concern and relief. “I’m sorry about not telling you this was going down today, but I couldn’t risk spooking that guy.” His gaze narrowed on Evan. “You’re damn good at what you do, Evan. So am I.”
Their gazes locked in a silent exchange, laden with history. Then, after what felt like an eternity, Evan nodded. “You made the right call. Well played, Hunter.”
