Not the alert bark, the threat bark, aggressive, urgent. Garrett was up instantly, shotgun, moved to the window. Outside his garage was on fire. Not a small fire, not an accident. The entire structure engulfed in flames, orange light painting the street, smoke billowing into the night sky.
Garrett ran outside, barefoot, shotgun in one hand, phone in the other. Called 911. " Fire at 896 Cottonwood Lane. Garage fire, spreading fast." The operator asked questions.
Garrett answered on autopilot. His mind was racing. This wasn't accidental. This was message. This was Wade.
Sirens in the distance, getting closer. Fire truck, police, neighbors emerging from houses, standing on lawns, watching. The fire department arrived 6 minutes later. By then, the garage was a total loss. They focused on keeping the flames from spreading to the house.
Managed to contain it. But everything in the garage, tools, equipment, the Honda CB750 he'd been restoring, gone. Ash and twisted metal. Sheriff Dalton Kimball arrived with the fire truck. He surveyed the scene, talked to the fire chief, then walked over to Garrett. "
Terrible thing," Dalton said. His voice was neutral, professionally concerned. Any idea how it started?" " You tell me." " Excuse me." "
Your brother did this. You know it. I know it. Everyone here knows it." Dalton's face hardened. "
That's a serious accusation, Mr. Holloway. You have proof?" " Not yet." " Then I'd be careful about making defamatory statements, might find yourself facing legal consequences on top of property loss." Dalton looked at the burning garage. "
Fire chief says it looks like faulty wiring. Old building, happens all the time. Lucky it didn't spread to your house. Lucky. Insurance should cover most of it, assuming you kept up with your premiums."
Dalton smiled, cold. " You did keep up with your premiums, didn't you?" Garrett didn't answer. Just stared at the sheriff until the man got uncomfortable and walked away. The fire was extinguished by 4:00 a.m. The fire chief confirmed Dalton's assessment, faulty wiring, accidental, nothing suspicious.
Garrett knew better, but knowing and proving were different things. As the sun came up, he stood in front of the smoking remains of his garage. Everything he'd built over 40 years, every tool he'd collected, every project he'd started, gone. Sarge pressed against his leg, solid, present, still here. William arrived at 6:30, took one look at the destruction, and closed his eyes. "
Wade." " Yeah." " This is my fault. I should have warned you. Should have told you how far he'd go." "
Wouldn't have changed anything. Still would have helped Evelyn. Still would have organized the families. This just proves we're right, proves Wade's scared. Scared men are dangerous men." "
So are determined ones." By 8:00 a.m., word had spread. The 18 families started showing up, standing in solidarity, offering help, offering support. Harvey brought his tools. " We'll rebuild it, all of us, together."
Margaret brought food. " You need to eat. Can't fight on an empty stomach." Evelyn came last, wheelchair rolling up the driveway. She looked at the destruction, then at Garrett. "
This is because of me," she said quietly, "because you helped me." " This is because of Wade, not you, never you." " You've lost everything." " I've lost a building. That's not everything."
He gestured at the families gathered around. " This is everything, people standing together, refusing to back down. Wade can burn my garage, can't burn that." Evelyn started crying. Sarge moved to her, put his head on her knee, comfort position.
Agent Pritchard called at 10:00 a.m. "Mr. Holloway, I heard about the fire. You all right?" " Fine. How'd you hear?" " I made some calls last night, started asking around about Wade Kimball.
Apparently, that triggered something because 3 hours later, your garage is burning. That's not coincidence. Can you prove it?" " Not yet, but I'm opening an official investigation. As of this morning, Wade Kimball is under federal scrutiny, loan sharking, racketeering, possible arson.
I've got approval to surveil his operations, monitor his communications, the whole apparatus." " How long until you can arrest him?" " Weeks, maybe months. Federal cases take time. We need ironclad evidence.
Can't afford mistakes. Evelyn's house seizure is tomorrow. We still don't have the injunction." " I'm aware. I've contacted the judge, explained that the seizure is part of an ongoing federal investigation.
Asked for a delay. Can't guarantee results, but I'm trying." " Appreciated." " Mr. Holloway, I want you to know something. What you've done, organizing these families, standing up to Wade, building this case, it's exactly what we need.
But it's also made you a target. Wade's going to come after you harder now. Are you prepared for that?" Garrett looked at the smoking remains of his garage, at the families standing around him, at Sarge still comforting Evelyn. " Yeah," he said, "I'm prepared."
The call ended. Douglas appeared from the crowd. " The injunction came through 10 minutes ago. Judge granted a temporary restraining order halting any property seizure pending investigation of the underlying contracts. Evelyn's house is safe for now."
The relief was palpable. Evelyn collapsed forward, sobbing. Not sad crying, relief crying, the kind that comes when pressure you've been holding for months suddenly lifts. But Garrett knew this was just the beginning. Wade had escalated, burned a garage, sent a message.
Things would get worse before they got better. The question was, how much worse? The answer came that afternoon. Harvey Stillwell, didn't show up for the scheduled meeting at the church. Garrett called, no answer.
Called again, still nothing. Something felt wrong. Garrett drove to Harvey's house, a small place on the east side of town, neat lawn, American flag, the kind of home a man took pride in. Harvey's car was in the driveway. Lights were on inside, but when Garrett knocked, no one answered.
He tried the door, unlocked. Not unusual in Ridgmont. People trusted each other. " Harvey, it's Garrett." No response.
Garrett stepped inside, Sarge with him. The dog's body language shifted immediately, alert, tense, something wrong. They found Harvey in the kitchen, sitting at the table, very still, face pale, a gun on the table in front of him, not pointed at anything, just sitting there. " Harvey." The man looked up.