Page 14 of Crossfire Creek Vengeance

“No,” Jessa answered. “But we know who it was. Marty Wynn.”

Something flickered through Noah’s expression. Recognition, yes, but something harder beneath it. “Wynn,” he echoed. “You’re sure?”

Jessa nodded. “He was madly in love with my mom. Practically worshipped her. And when Lauren died a few months ago… he just… spiraled.” She rubbed a hand over the back of her neck. “He thinks anyone who ever wronged her deserves payback.”

Deacon’s gut tightened. “Anyone who wronged your mother?” he asked, hoping for clarification.

Jessa tensed as if those words had hit every nerve in her body.

Deacon pressed, softer this time. “Jess… did you wrong her?”

A muscle jumped in her jaw. “We had a rift. Recently.”

His brows pulled together. “A rift about what?”

Her eyes, raw, wounded and guarded, flicked up to him. She opened her mouth. But the sharp trill of Noah’s phone cut her off.

Noah muttered a curse and stepped back, pulling the phone to his ear. “Riggs.”

He moved several paces away, his voice dropping as he listened. His body went rigid, shoulders squared, posture tightening into something that made the air prickle.

Jessa exhaled shakily, her gaze dropping to the floor. And Deacon suddenly knew that whatever the rift had been between Lauren and her, it wasn’t small. And it wasn’t something she wanted him hearing about.

Not yet.

Noah turned his back to them as the call continued, his voice low and clipped. Whatever he was hearing wasn’t good.

Deacon shifted his attention back to her. “Jess,” he said quietly, “if Wynn’s going after people who wronged Lauren, then it’s obvious why he’s coming after me. It’s because I arrested Lauren.”

She swallowed hard and made a sound of agreement. What she didn’t do was add more. So, Deacon pushed.

“And Wynn is targeting you because of the rift with your mother?” he came out and asked.

Her shoulders tightened. She didn’t look at him. “We’re not doing that right now,” she murmured, shifting her weight. “Not here. Not while Wynn’s out there.”

He almost kept pushing, almost, but she cut him off by shaking her head. “Maybe Shade lied to me,” she said instead. “Maybe he’s working with Wynn.”

“Shade,” Deacon spat out like profanity. “Who the hell is this guy anyway? What’s his real name?”

“Brett Calder,” she said. “He works freelance intel gathering for Creed Response sometimes. He’s good. He’s never steered me wrong before. But tonight…” Her voice thinned. “Tonight I don’t know.”

“Trust level?” Deacon asked.

“Normally? Ninety percent.” She exhaled. “Now? Fifty. Maybe less.”

She pulled out her phone and tapped rapidly, lifting it to her ear. “I’ll ask for a meet.” But she clearly got nothing. She lowered the phone, redialed. Tried again. Silence. “No answer,” she relayed.

The muscles in Deacon’s back tightened. “You think he’s in trouble?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “That’s the problem. If Shade betrayed me, we’re screwed. And if he didn’t betray me, then someone else is using his intel to manipulate us.”

Deacon’s pulse kicked up, slow and steady like a warning drum. This was bigger than a grief-stricken ex-operative like Wynn spiraling into violence.

Jessa stared down at her phone as if she could force it to ring just by willing it. No such luck. The silence stretched long and tight between them, filled with too many questions and not nearly enough answers.

“All right,” he said. “Let’s start with the obvious. Why the hell would Brett Calder, AKA Shade, help Wynn? He got paid off? That it?”

Jessa didn’t look convinced. “Money could be the reason. But Shade doesn’t work cheap, and Wynn isn’t exactly sitting on a tech fortune.”