Chapter 54

Chapter 54

Harper

The drive to the station passed in tense silence, streetlights strobing across the windshield while Damian gripped the steering wheel tighter than necessary, knuckles pale against the leather.

“Is he alive?” I’d asked Detective Ruiz the moment we called back.

“Alive,” she’d confirmed. “Unconscious, in critical condition. We don’t know more than that yet.”

Small mercy, though it did little to ease the dread sitting heavy in my chest as we walked into the station twenty minutes later. Detective Ruiz met us in the lobby, expression grave despite her usual composed professionalism.

“Thank you for coming so quickly,” she said, guiding us toward a small conference room. “I want to be transparent with you both, given how directly this affects your investigation.”

“What happened to him?” I asked.

“Blunt force trauma. Someone struck him outside his home, left him for the neighbors to find. Whoever did this clearly wanted him silenced before he could speak with Renata Cole tomorrow.”

The confirmation landed heavily, guilt tangling immediately with fear despite Detective Ruiz’s careful assurance that none of this was our fault.

“This is escalating faster than we anticipated,” Damian said, voice tight. “We need better protection. Not just patrols, actual around-the-clock security.”

“I agree,” Detective Ruiz said. “I’ve already requested additional resources for your family specifically, given the severity of tonight’s development. But I also need to ask you both something directly, and I need complete honesty.”

“Of course,” I said.

“Is there anyone within Blackwood Industries, or within your extended family, who might have motive to keep this particular history buried? Beyond simple reputation concerns?”

Damian and I exchanged a glance, the same uncomfortable thought clearly crossing both our minds simultaneously.

“Vanessa Cole,” I said slowly. “Damian’s former—” I hesitated, unsure exactly how to categorize the relationship anymore. “She’s always resented our marriage. And her last name is Cole, same as Renata’s. I never thought to ask if they’re connected.”

Detective Ruiz’s expression sharpened with interest. “That’s worth investigating immediately. Family connections in cases like this are rarely coincidental.”

“Vanessa wouldn’t have the resources for something like this,” Damian said, though uncertainty colored his voice. “Would she?”

“People surprise us,” Detective Ruiz said carefully. “Especially people motivated by long-held resentment rather than rational calculation. I’ll have someone look into any connection between Vanessa Cole and Renata Cole immediately.”

We remained at the station another hour, providing additional statements, reviewing security footage from our property that ultimately showed little beyond a figure in dark clothing, face obscured, moving quickly across the yard before disappearing into shadow near the property line.

By the time we finally returned home, exhaustion had settled so completely through both of us that conversation felt nearly impossible. We checked on Lily and Grace first, both peacefully asleep, guarded now by security stationed directly outside their bedroom doors, a precaution that felt simultaneously reassuring and heartbreaking given the innocence it was protecting.

“I keep thinking,” I said quietly, once we’d finally settled into bed, sleep still distant despite overwhelming exhaustion, “about how this started. A simple accident, decades ago. And now someone’s willing to hurt an elderly man to keep it buried.”

“Whatever Victor Hale actually did that night,” Damian said, “someone clearly still has enormous stakes in keeping it hidden. That level of desperation usually means something considerably worse than simple embarrassment.”

“Do you think it could be connected to the company somehow? Something ongoing, rather than just historical?”

Damian considered this carefully. “It’s possible. If Victor’s activities extended beyond just your father, if there’s a pattern of similar intimidation tactics used repeatedly over the years, someone still benefiting from that pattern might have considerable motive to keep everything buried.”

The implication settled heavily between us, exhaustion and fear tangling uncomfortably as sleep continued eluding both of us despite the late hour.

Sometime near dawn, my phone buzzed softly, and this time, relief flooded through me as I recognized Renata’s number rather than another anonymous threat.

“Harper,” she said, voice tight with urgency despite the early hour. “I heard about the dockworker. I’m so sorry, I should have been more careful arranging that meeting.”

“It’s not your fault,” I said, though guilt lingered heavily beneath the reassurance. “Detective Ruiz thinks Vanessa Cole might be connected to this somehow. Are you two related?”

A pause, longer than comfortable. “Vanessa’s my cousin, actually. Distant, but yes, we’re connected.”

Ice settled through my chest. “Have you told her about this investigation? About what you’ve been researching?”

“No,” Renata said firmly. “Absolutely not. We’re not close, Harper. I haven’t spoken with her in years, not since she attempted using our family connection to get positive press coverage for herself years ago. I refused, and she hasn’t forgiven me since.”

“Could she have found out another way? About your investigation?”

“I don’t know,” Renata admitted. “But if she has, if she’s somehow connected to whatever’s happening now, I think we need to consider she might be protecting something more significant than simple reputation.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know yet,” Renata said. “But I intend to find out. Carefully, though. If she’s genuinely dangerous, I don’t want to underestimate exactly how far she’s willing to go to keep this buried.”

We ended the call as morning light finally began spilling fully across the bedroom, exhaustion and fear finally giving way slightly to something resembling grim determination.

“Vanessa,” Damian said slowly, processing everything we’d just learned. “I never imagined her capable of something like this.”

“Desperate people surprise us,” I said, echoing Detective Ruiz’s earlier words. “Especially people who’ve spent years nursing resentment they never fully processed.”

Damian pulled me close, exhaustion evident in every line of his body despite the protective tension still radiating from him. “Whatever this becomes, Harper, whatever Vanessa’s actually involved in, I promise you, we’ll get through it. Exactly the way we’ve gotten through everything else.”

I nodded, though uncertainty lingered heavily beneath his reassurance, and we finally drifted toward brief, uneasy sleep as morning fully arrived outside our windows.

We woke only two hours later to urgent knocking at our bedroom door, security guard’s voice tight with alarm.

“Mr. Blackwood, Mrs. Blackwood, you need to come immediately. Vanessa Cole is here. She’s demanding to speak with you both, and she says she’s not leaving until she does.”