"I don't control permitting."
"Code complaints?"
"Also not me."
"Broken windows?"
"Maggie, what exactly are you suggesting?"
She watched him.
"Somebody vandalized my motorcycle."
"I heard."
Of course he had.
She had never told him.
"From whom?"
"Small town."
"This isn't that small."
Reeves smiled again.
"People talk."
Maggie leaned forward.
"Do they talk about Dean Mercer?"
For the first time, Reeves lost control of his face.
Only for a second.
But Maggie saw it.
"I don't know the name."
"Interesting."
"Why?"
"Because there's a photo online of you playing golf with him."
Reeves stood.
"I didn't come here for an interrogation."
"No. You came because you thought I'd been frightened."
His voice cooled.
"You should be careful making accusations."
"Is that advice?"
"Yes."
"Or another warning?"
Reeves picked up his portfolio.
"Our offer expires Friday."
"Why Friday?"
"Project timelines."
Maggie stood.
"If I say no?"
He moved toward the door.
Then stopped.
His back remained toward her.
"Some properties become less valuable with time."
"How?"
"Neighborhoods change. Access changes. Customers change."
He looked over his shoulder.
"Sometimes businesses discover they aren't as secure as they thought."
Maggie's pulse quickened.
"Is that supposed to scare me?"
Reeves smiled.
"Of course not."
He left.
Tom appeared seconds later.
"Tell me you got that."
Maggie removed the recorder.
"Every word."
Ruth entered five minutes later.
She replayed the final statement.
Sometimes businesses discover they aren't as secure as they thought.
Tom paced.
"That son of a—"
"It's still ambiguous," Ruth said.
Tom stared at her.
"What does he need to do, sign a confession?"
"Preferably."
Maggie almost laughed.
Then her phone rang.
Laura.
She answered.
"Maggie, we have a problem."
"What?"
"Dean Mercer posted bail."
"So?"
"He disappeared."
Maggie stopped smiling.
"His attorney says he can't reach him."
Tom watched her face.
Laura continued.
"And twenty minutes ago, somebody cut the power line feeding your shop."
The lights went out.
Right on cue.
The backup generator activated six seconds later.
Red emergency lights filled the repair bays.
Tom ran downstairs.
Maggie followed.
One of the mechanics was already outside.
"Don't!" Tom shouted.
He grabbed the young man by the shoulder.
"Nobody goes out alone."
Maggie looked through the window.
A utility pole behind the building leaned at an angle.
The line had not simply failed.
Someone had hooked a chain around a lower support cable and torn it loose.
Tom called police.
Then Maggie noticed something.
The gate at the back lot was open.
It had been locked an hour earlier.
Her Harley was inside the building.
But six customer motorcycles remained in the fenced storage area.
"Tom."
He saw it too.
"Everybody stay inside."
A shadow moved behind the fence.
Then another.
Tom reached for a heavy wrench.
Maggie stopped him.
"No."
"Maggie—"
"Do not turn this into a fight."
He hated it.
She could see that.
But he lowered the wrench.
The first man appeared beneath the security light.
Not Dean.
One of the others from the Broken Spur.
Ryan Cole.
He carried a bolt cutter.
Beside him was a second man Maggie didn't recognize.
Then headlights exploded across the back lot.
A truck entered from the side street.
Another behind it.
Then motorcycles.
Lots of motorcycles.
Maggie blinked.
Tom smiled.
"What did you do?"
"I didn't do anything."
"I did."
An elderly mechanic named Gus stood beside them holding his phone.
"Called the chapter."
"What chapter?"
Gus grinned.
"The people who owe this shop favors."
Within minutes, fourteen riders had parked along the public street outside the fence.
Then twenty.
Then thirty.
Nobody entered the property.
Nobody threatened Ryan.
They simply watched.
Ryan froze.
The bolt cutters hung from his hand.
Another vehicle arrived.
Sheriff's cruiser.
Laura Chen stepped out.
Ryan dropped the tool.
Maggie whispered, "Well, that's convenient."
Gus laughed.
"Community policing."
Laura arrested both men.
Inside Ryan's truck, deputies found chains, spray paint, a crowbar, and three cans of gasoline.
One of the cans contained a rag stuffed into the opening.
Tom stared at it.
"That wasn't vandalism."
Laura's face was grim.
"No."
Maggie's blood turned cold.
Someone had planned to burn the shop.
Jack's shop.
Possibly with employees inside.
The situation had changed.
This was no longer about intimidation.
It could have killed people.
Ryan refused to talk at first.
Then Laura showed him the gasoline.
Charges multiplied rapidly.
Burglary tools.
Attempted arson.
Criminal trespass.
Conspiracy.
Ryan's confidence disappeared.
Before sunrise, he asked for a deal.
By eight in the morning, Laura called Maggie.
"You should sit down."
Maggie did.
"Ryan says Dean recruited them."
"That doesn't surprise me."
"Dean told them Ridgeline wanted businesses encouraged to sell."
Maggie closed her eyes.
There it was.
Fire.
"Does he name Reeves?"
"Not directly."
"Of course."
"But he names someone else."
"Who?"
"Marcus Vale."
Maggie frowned.
"Never heard of him."
"Operations director for Stonegate Protective Services."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning we can move one level higher."
Maggie looked toward the repair bays.
Outside, riders who had stayed all night were drinking terrible coffee from paper cups.
Some she knew.
Many she didn't.
They had come because Gus called.
Because Jack had once fixed their motorcycle.
Because Tom had helped their son.
Because the shop had sponsored a funeral ride.
Because community, Maggie realized, was a kind of memory.
You spent years giving pieces of yourself away.
Then one terrible night, those pieces came back.
Ryan Cole agreed to cooperate.
He told investigators that Stonegate manager Marcus Vale had paid him and Dean for what Vale called "pressure work."
Never assault.
Never direct threats.
Nothing that would attract major police attention.
Broken lights.
Damaged vehicles.
Graffiti.
Noise complaints.
Anonymous reports to city inspectors.
The goal was simple.
Make property owners tired.
Make them afraid.
Make selling feel easier than staying.
Dean Mercer had become reckless.
The Harley wasn't supposed to be destroyed.
Ryan said Dean recognized Maggie and decided to "teach the widow a lesson."
That phrase made Tom furious.
Maggie became quiet.
Laura had learned to recognize that silence.
"Don't do anything."
Maggie almost smiled.
"Everybody keeps saying that."
"Because everybody knows you."
The investigation moved fast.
Stonegate's offices were searched after Ryan produced messages connecting him to Vale.
Vale was arrested.
And Vale, confronted with years of prison, immediately began negotiating.
Within forty-eight hours, investigators knew more.
Ridgeline had not explicitly written, "Harass property owners."
Companies committing wrongdoing were rarely that stupid.
Instead there were coded invoices.
"Site stabilization."
"Acquisition support."
"Community resistance mitigation."
Vale claimed Colton Reeves personally authorized aggressive tactics during private meetings.
Reeves denied everything.
His lawyer called Vale a rogue contractor.
Maggie watched the news coverage from Jack's office.
Reeves appeared outside a courthouse wearing a dark suit.
"Our company has never authorized illegal conduct. Any contractor who violated the law acted independently."
Tom scoffed.
"Snake."
Ruth stood near the window.
"Snakes survive because people underestimate how patient they are."
Maggie looked at her.
"Meaning?"
"He's distancing himself."
"He paid them."
"Through contracts."
"Vale says he gave orders."
"Reeves says Vale misunderstood."
"So we're stuck again."
"Not necessarily."
Ruth pulled out a photograph.
It showed Reeves leaving a private restaurant with Vale three months earlier.
Then another.
Another meeting.
Another.
"Someone has been sending these anonymously."