“I love you, too, sweetheart.”
Hunter arrives fifteen minutes later, just as I’ve finished brewing more coffee and Dawson has stoked the fire in the hearth.
After a quick hug, Hunter follows me into the kitchen. While he and Dawson man hug, I pour us all mugs of coffee. My hand shakes a little when I lift mine.
“Why don’t we talk in the living room,” Hunter says, and carries his coffee to the side chair. Dawson and I take the couch. The fire crackles, sending orange sparks into the void.
“The UDP chip was damaged, probably during the explosion. The feds have specialists in this kind of thing, so we’re lucky Brian could help.” Hunter takes a sip from his coffee, then stares into it for a long moment before his eyes meet mine. “It’s going to take time to sort everything out.”
“That’s all you’re here to tell me?” I ask when he doesn’t elaborate.
He sips from his coffee again, and his face draws tight. “That’s about as much as I know right now.”
I groan. “About as much. So what’s the rest?”
“Some of the files on there might be Dad’s.”
I’ve wondered about this during the long wait to get my locket back. “Hunter, what would he need to hide like that?”
“We don’t know.”
“What do you think?”
The tiny muscle in his jaw that twitches when he’s tense starts flexing. “That whatever’s on there got him killed.”
My stomach drops. Hunter has hinted at a possible connection between Dad’s work and his murder. Nobody could ever explain to me why Mom died too.
Could this be why? The idea that Mom and Dad could have been hiding a secret makes my head hurt.
“It’s possible whoever killed them is tying up loose ends,” Hunter adds.
“By destroying Mom’s locket?”
“I’ve thought a lot about this, Lex. It fits, doesn’t it? The train crash, then their murder. Mom and Dad didn’t go on the train trip. A year later, they’re both dead. Before that trip, Mom gave her locket to you for safekeeping.”
I set my coffee cup on the table and scrub my face with my palms. “What does this mean?”
“I think Kalle Jensen was after you from the start. It had nothing to do with the mine or ecoterrorism. He set you up so it would look like an accident. And it would make sense to everyone, because you’d been so outspoken about it, willing to do whatever it takes to fight it.”
Dawson’s arm wraps around my shoulders. “So Kalle planted those firebombs, then waited for the right opportunity to set them off?”
Hunter stares into his coffee, then focuses on me. “That’s what I think.”
“He wanted us dead,” Dawson says, disbelieving. “What is so important about this information that he would do something so terrible?”
Hunter stands and gazes down at us. “That’s what we’re going to find out.”
* * *
