“Walk with me.”
They headed outside into the October morning. Sullivan lit a cigarette despite having quit years ago, the stress of the investigation clearly taking its toll.
“How’s Vivienne really doing?” the chief asked.
“Restless. Frustrated at being confined. But she understands the necessity.”
“And you? How are you doing with all this?”
Brooks considered the question. “Honestly? I’m still processing. A month ago, I didn’t believe in psychic abilities.Now I’m coordinating an investigation based on information from a séance.”
“Welcome to Westerly Cove.” Sullivan took a drag. “This town has always had its share of unexplainable things. Most of us just learned to look the other way. The Hawthorne women have been helping solve crimes here for generations, but it was always done quietly. Behind the scenes. Never as publicly as this.”
“Do you think that puts Vivienne at more risk? The attention?”
“Honestly? I think what puts her at risk is that she’s good at what she does. She helped us take down a criminal empire. That makes her a target.” Sullivan met Brooks’s eyes. “Which is why I’m assigning Daniels and Morales to protection detail. Both solid officers. Both loyal. But Brooks, I need you to stay objective about this.”
“I am objective.”
“Are you? Because from where I’m standing, you care about that woman more than is professionally appropriate. And that’s not necessarily a bad thing—she seems to care about you too. But it can’t compromise the investigation or your judgment.”
Brooks wanted to argue, but Sullivan was right. His feelings for Vivienne had grown beyond professional respect into something more personal. Something that made him want to keep her safe even at the cost of the investigation’s progress.
“I won’t let it compromise the case,” Brooks said finally.
“Good. Because we’re close to finishing this. Winston will be caught. The evidence will be processed. Justice will be served. And then you and Vivienne can figure out what comes next without the weight of an active investigation hanging over you.”
Sullivan headed back inside, leaving Brooks alone with his thoughts. They were close to resolution. But until Winston was in custody, Vivienne remained in danger. And no amount ofprofessional distance would change the fact that Brooks cared deeply about keeping her safe.
His phone buzzed. A text from.
Vivienne Hawthorne
Dawn says I’m being paranoid, but I keep feeling like someone’s watching the safe house. Probably just nerves.
Trust your instincts. I’m sending a patrol car to check the perimeter. Detail arrives at noon. Sit tight.
He radioed for a unit to swing by the safe house, then returned to his desk. Mountains of paperwork awaited—evidence logs, witness statements, coordination with federal prosecutors.
But even as he worked through the files, part of his mind stayed focused on Vivienne. On keeping her safe. On making sure that when this case finally closed, she would still be there—alive, whole, and ready to figure out what came next for both of them.
Noon arrived with Officers Daniels and Morales reporting to the safe house as scheduled. Brooks met them there, briefing them on the threat level and protocols.
“Ms. Hawthorne can return to her business, but you maintain visual contact at all times,” Brooks said. “She’s a target for Winston Aldrich, who’s armed and desperate. Any suspicious activity, you call it in immediately.”
Daniels nodded. “Understood. We’ll keep her safe.”
Vivienne emerged from the bedroom with a packed bag, Dawn following. “Ready?”
“Your detail is briefed. They’ll follow you to the shop and set up a rotation schedule.” Brooks paused. “Any concerns, any visions, anything that feels off—you call or text me.”
“I will.” She hesitated, then stepped closer. “This will be over soon, won’t it?”
“Soon as we catch Winston. Every resource is focused on finding him.”
“Good.” She touched his arm briefly. “Because I’m tired of living in fear. I want my life back.”
“You’ll get it. I promise.”
