Lung cancer, stage four. I'm functional for now, but that could change fast. If I go down, Boone's in charge. Make sure he knows that. Garrett, Maggie started.
No arguments, ma'am. I'm here. I'm useful, but I'm also realistic about my limitations. Waylon needs to know in case medical decisions need to be made. Waylon nodded slowly.
"Understood. But for the record, you look like hell. When's the last time you slept? "Sleep's overrated. "Sleep's necessary for continued consciousness, which you'll need if you want to be useful.
I'm prescribing 8 hours tonight, minimum. I'll sleep when "When I tell you to," Waylon interrupted with a firmness that suggested he'd learn from Maggie how to shut down arguments. "Or else sedate you myself. Don't test me. Despite everything, Garrett smiled.
The scared little boy who'd asked Maggie why she was nice to them had grown into a man who knew his own mind and wasn't afraid to use it. "Deal," Garrett said. The planning continued into the evening. Emmett set up a workstation in Maggie's spare room surrounded by laptops and hard drives and equipment that looked like it belonged in a spy movie. Clementine commandeered the kitchen table spreading out legal documents and making calls to attorneys she knew in Phoenix.
Waylon did indeed make Garrett lie down, performed a quick examination that was professional and thorough, then prescribed rest with the kind of authority that made arguing pointless. Garrett lay on Maggie's couch, the same couch where three children had slept 25 years ago, and listened to the sounds of organized chaos around him. Emmett's fingers on keyboards, Clementine's voice sharp and persuasive on the phone, Maggie in the kitchen cooking for an army because that's what she did when stressed. Outside through the window, he could see Boone and Colt organizing watch rotations. 297 men settling in for a siege that might last days or weeks.
All of this for one old woman who'd opened her door to strangers. All of this because sometimes the debts that matter most can't be measured in money. Garrett closed his eyes just for a moment, just to rest them. When he opened them again, it was dark outside and someone had covered him with a blanket. The house was quiet except for the soft sound of typing from the spare room.
He checked his watch. He'd been asleep for 6 hours. Garrett sat up slowly, his body protesting. The pain in his chest was worse, a constant pressure that made breathing feel like work. He'd been pushing too hard, he knew that.
But what choice did he have? This was the last thing he'd ever do that mattered. He wasn't going to half-ass it just because his body was falling apart. He found Emmett still awake, eyes bloodshot surrounded by energy drink cans and the glow of multiple monitors. "Please tell me you found something," Garrett said.
Emmett looked up, a smile spreading across his exhausted face. "Oh, I found something. I found a whole lot of somethings. Question is, are you ready to hear just how deep this rabbit hole goes? Garrett pulled up a chair.
"Hit me. "Sterling Blackwood isn't just a developer trying to make a profit. He's specifically targeting this neighborhood for a very particular reason. Emmett pulled up a document on one screen. "His father was Duncan Blackwood, sheriff of this county from 1985 to 1998.
The name hit Garrett like a punch. Duncan Blackwood. "You know him? "Yeah. Garrett's voice was flat.
"He tried to arrest me and my brothers on Christmas morning, 1997. Claimed we'd broken into Maggie's house. She told him we'd been invited, that we'd helped her. He tried to push it anyway, said we were clearly up to no good. Maggie threatened to call the state police and report him for harassment.
He backed off, but you could tell he wasn't happy about it. "Well, it gets better. Emmett clicked to another file. "Duncan Blackwood was forced to resign in 1998. Corruption charges, bribery, witness tampering.
The whole investigation started because someone filed a formal complaint with the state attorney general. Want to guess who filed it? Garrett already knew. "Maggie. "Bingo.
She filed a complaint saying Sheriff Blackwood had harassed her and her guests, and that she believed he was using his position to Blackwood had harassed her and her guests, and that she believed he was using his position to intimidate people who didn't fit his idea of acceptable citizens. The state investigated, found a whole lot more than just harassment. Duncan Blackwood spent 2 years in federal prison. The pieces were falling into place. So, Sterling blames Maggie for his father's downfall.
Not just blames, this is personal revenge dressed up as business development. He's not just trying to buy her house, he's trying to destroy everything she has as payback for what she did to his father. Can we prove that? Emmett smiled wide. That's where it gets interesting.
I hacked into Sterling's email server. Before you ask, yes, it was technically illegal, so any evidence I found wouldn't be admissible in court. But, it can point us toward what to look for through legal channels. And? And Sterling Blackwood has been obsessed with Maggie for years.
Email after email about her. Plans to make her life difficult. Coordinating with the judge to ensure the eviction went through. But, there's something else. Something bigger.
Emmett pulled up another document. This one was older, dated December 1997. I found email archives from Duncan Blackwood's old accounts. They were never properly deleted, just sitting on a backup server. And in those archives, I found exchanges between Duncan and Sterling from back when Sterling was in college.
Emmett opened an email, turned the screen so Garrett could read it. The email was from Duncan to Sterling, dated December 27, 1997. The problem with the Hartley house has been handled. The fire investigation will conclude it was an electrical fault. No one will look deeper.
The evidence of what Hartley found dies with him. Clean slate. Garrett read it twice, his blood running cold. The Hartley house. That's Waylon, Emmett, and Clementine's parents.
Daniel and Rebecca That's exactly what it's saying. Emmett's face was grim. Daniel Hartley worked as an engineer at Blackwood Construction, Duncan Blackwood's side business. I found employment records, and I found something else. He pulled up more documents, financial records, audit trails.
Daniel Hartley found evidence that Duncan Blackwood was embezzling from the construction company, $2 million over 5 years. He reported it to the company board. A week later his house burned down with him and his wife inside. The three kids only survived because they were sleeping over at their grandmother's house that night. Garrett felt sick.
Sterling knew about this. Sterling helped cover it up. He was 21 years old home from college for Christmas break. And according to these emails, he's the one who started the fire. The room spun.
Garrett gripped the edge of the desk fighting nausea. Waylon, Emmett, and Clementine's parents hadn't died in an accident. They'd been murdered. By the same family that was now trying to destroy Maggie. Does Maggie know?
Garrett asked. About the murder, no. The fire was ruled accidental. The embezzlement investigation died with Daniel Hartley. No one ever connected the dots.
We need to tell Waylon and his siblings. That's not my call to make, Emmett said quietly. They deserve to know. But that kind of information, it changes everything. Their whole lives they've thought their parents died in an accident.
Finding out it was murder, that the people responsible are walking free, that might be too much to handle right now. They're adults. They can handle it. Can they? Can they handle finding out the man trying to evict their grandmother is also the man who orphaned them 25 years ago?
Emmett closed his laptop. That's a hell of a thing to process while trying to fight a legal battle. Garrett stood paced the small room. His mind was racing trying to fit all the pieces together. Sterling Blackwood wasn't just a greedy developer.
He was a murderer, or at least an accomplice to murder, and he'd spent 25 years watching Maggie Callahan, the woman who'd taken in the children he'd orphaned, the woman who destroyed his father's career living peacefully in her little house. This wasn't about money. This was about revenge. And if Sterling was willing to murder two people to protect his father's secrets, what would he do to 300 bikers who stood between him and his vengeance? The answer was obvious.
Anything. Everything. Whatever it took. Garrett returned to the living room, looked out the window at the sea of motorcycles and leather-clad men. Warriors, every one of them.
Men who'd faced down death and come out the other side. But warriors could die just as easily as anyone else. And Sterling Blackwood had already proven he was willing to kill to get what he wanted. This fight was about to get a whole lot more dangerous than Garrett had anticipated. But there was no backing down now.
Not when the truth was finally coming to light. Not when justice was finally within reach. Not when the three orphaned children might finally learn what really happened to their parents. Garrett pulled out his phone, dialed Boone. "We need to increase security," Garrett said when Boone answered.
"Armed watch rotations. No one goes anywhere alone. And we need to assume Sterling Blackwood it is capable of violence. "What did you find? The kind of truth that gets people killed.