Chapter 30 Justice Isn't Gentle
Sloane
My heart was thumping against my ribs so hard it hurt.
I felt like the person who wrote it was still in the room, hiding in the shadows and watching me read their threat. It wasn't just a message; it was a physical blow.
I heard footsteps in the hallway.
The heavy, rhythmic thud of boots on the wood floor told me Officer Miller was coming back.
My brain screamed at me to move. If I showed him the note, the police would stay. They would ask more questions. They would start a real investigation. They would call my family. They might even call Richard. If Richard was the one who sent this, telling the police would be like telling him that his plan worked. It would show him that I was scared.
I looked at the desk. I grabbed a handful of folders that had been dumped on the floor and threw them over the note. I did it just in time. As the folders hit the desk, Officer Miller walked back into the room. He was adjusting his belt and looking at his watch., but I managed to cover it just as he walked through the doorway.
"Ms. Hartford?" Miller asked. He was tucking his radio back into his belt. "Is everything okay? Did you find anything missing?"
I forced my face to stay still.
"No," I said. My voice sounded a little high, but I kept it steady. "It’s just a mess. I don't think anything important is missing. They just... they really ruined the place."
Miller nodded, looking around the room one last time. He looked sorry for me, which made me feel even guiltier for lying.
"I'm sorry this happened. It’s a lot to deal with. We’ll have a patrol car pass by here every hour tonight just to be safe."
"Thank you, Officer," I said.
He escorted me back down to my car. I watched as the police cars drove away, leaving me alone on the dark street.
I didn't stay a second longer. I got into my car and locked the doors so fast I almost broke the button.
The drive back to the penthouse was the longest twenty minutes of my life. I felt a cold sweat break out on my neck. I kept looking at the shadows on the sidewalk, wondering if the person who wrote that note was standing there, laughing at me.
Everything I had ever known felt wrong.
The Hartford name used to be a shield. It used to mean I was safe and protected. Now, it felt like a target on my back. The world I lived in was full of people who used "logistics" as a word for something terrible, and if you looked too closely, they broke your door down to stop you.
I just wanted to sleep and wake up in a world where my family were the good guys again.
When I got to the house, and walked through the front door of the townhouse, I saw the lights were on in the living room. Cade was sitting at the dining table. He looked up when I entered, his eyes scanning my face.
He had his laptop open and a stack of papers spread out in front of him. He looked tired and his hair was messy, but the moment he heard me come in, his head snapped up.
"How did it go with Richard?" he asked. "Did he give you the case? Did he suspect anything?"
I didn't answer him right away. I walked over to the table and dropped my bag on the floor. I felt a weird mix of emotions. Because part of me had hoped he’d see me before he saw the threat. I was glad to see him.
But I was also angry.
I was angry that my life was turning into a crime scene while he sat here looking for his own version of justice.
"Sloane?" he asked, standing up. He saw my face then. He saw the paleness and the way my hands were still trembling. "What happened?"
I didn't say a word. I reached into my coat pocket and pulled out the folded paper. I had ripped the top layer off before I left the office. I smoothed it out on the table in front of him.
Cade stared at it. For a few seconds, he didn't move. He didn't even seem to breathe. I watched his eyes track the letters. His face went from worried to stone-cold in a heartbeat.
"Where did you get this?" he asked. His voice was a low, dangerous growl.
"Someone broke into my office tonight," I said. My voice was finally starting to crack. "The police called me and I went down there and the place was a mess. But they didn't take anything, Cade. They just left this."
Cade picked up the paper. "They're watching you," he whispered.
"They're watching us," I corrected him. "Cade, they broke into my private space. They wanted me to know that nowhere is safe."
"It means Richard knows," Cade said. He slammed the paper back down on the table. "He knows you were at the door last night. Or he knows I’m using you to get to him. Either way, this is a confirmation."
"Even if it is him, this isn't his usual way of doing things!" I snapped
Cade turned to face me, his eyes cold.
"Come on, Sloane. Wake up! Everything we’ve seen about your uncle in the last twenty-four hours has been 'out of his usual.' You heard him talking about moving people. You saw the way he lied to you today about decorations. "
He stepped closer to me, his voice firm. "He sent that note because we are closing in on the truth. He wants to scare us away and pretend you didn't hear anything. He thinks if he scares you enough, you’ll stop."
"And what if I do want to stop?" I shouted back. The fear was finally bubbling over. "My life is being torn apart! My family is a lie, my office is a wreck, and now I have people writing death threats on my furniture! I'm scared, Cade! I'm allowed to be scared!"
Cade didn't back down.
He looked at me with a cold, hard stare. "You can be scared, but you can't stop. If you stop, I don't get justice for my sister and your uncle keeps selling people. Is that the legacy you want to defend?”
I stared at him, my chest heaving. I was terrified. I wanted to pack a bag and drive until I hit the ocean. But underneath the fear, there was a hot, stinging coal of fury.
I hated that he thought he could scare me. I hated that he thought I was so weak that a broken door and a messy note would make me crawl back into my hole.
"I'm not stopping," I whispered, my fury finally winning out over the fear.