The road narrowed the closer Brian drove to the lake.
Pavement gave way to patched asphalt, then to stretches of gravel that crunched beneath his tires. Trees thickened on either side, tall and old, their branches arching overhead like a tunnel swallowing the daylight.
He drove slowly, one hand on the steering wheel, the other resting near his phone. No police vehicle. No markings. Just his personal truck.
He wasn't here to knock on doors.
He was here to look.
The map sat folded on the passenger seat, the circled radius burned into his memory. Three properties fell within the narrowed zone. One in particular sat farther off the main road than the others, accessible only by a private drive barely visible from the turnoff.
He slowed as he approached it.
A narrow wooden sign marked the lane. No name. Just a number.
The gravel path disappeared into dense trees.
Brian didn't turn in.
Not yet.
Instead, he continued past it, heart steady but alert. If someone was watching from inside those woods, he didn't want to appear curious.
He drove another mile before pulling off near a public fishing access point. From there, he could see portions of the lake and the treeline across the water.
Isolated.
Quiet.
The kind of place where someone could scream, and the sound would disappear into nothing.
He stayed for ten minutes.
Long enough to observe.
Short enough to avoid attention.
Then he drove away.
He didn't know if Sarah was anywhere near that cabin.
But his instincts had tightened when he passed it.
And instincts had kept him alive more than once.
Back at the apartment, Molly stood near the kitchen window, staring down into the parking lot.
"Did you see someone?" Brian asked as he walked in.
She shook her head.
"No. I just… I feel like someone's watching."
His pulse ticked up slightly.
"Where?"
"Earlier. At the Landing. When we were walking back."
He studied her face.
Fear wasn't written there.
Just awareness.
"It could be your nerves," he said carefully.
"I know. I just—" She paused. "It's hard not to feel exposed."
He stepped closer.
"We're being careful."
"I know."
She hesitated.
"If Jack sees me…"
"He might."
Her breath slowed.
"I stick to the story."
"Yes."
"And I don't bring up the case."
"Not at all."
She nodded, steadying herself.
She wasn't naive.
She understood now that if Jack was what they suspected—
They were living inside a chess game.
And one wrong move could cost more than pride.
At the cabin, Sarah lay still on the bed, wrists bound in front of her again.
The door had been closed for hours.
No pacing tonight.
No humming.
Just silence.
Then—
A sound she hadn't heard before.
A phone is ringing.
Muffled.
Somewhere in the main room.
Her heart skipped.
She strained to listen.
Boots crossed the floor.
The ringing stopped.
Silence again.
Then Jack's voice.
Low.
Controlled.
"Yes."
A pause.
She couldn't hear the other side of the conversation.
"Yes, I'm handling it."
Another pause.
"No, nothing unusual."
Her pulse quickened.
Handling what?
Nothing unusual where?
Silence.
Then—
"I said it's fine."
The edge in his voice made her stomach twist.
The call ended.
His footsteps didn't resume immediately.
He was standing still.
Thinking.
Then the bedroom door opened abruptly.
He stared at her.
"Did you hear anything?"
She forced her face blank.
"No."
He studied her for several seconds too long.
Then nodded once.
"Good."
The door shut again.
But something had shifted.
There were other things in his life.
Other responsibilities.
Other masks.
And that meant cracks.
Two days later, Jack stepped into Brian's office without knocking.
"You busy?"
"Always," Brian replied evenly.
Jack leaned against the doorframe, casual.
"I thought I saw your friend down at the boardwalk."
Brian's pulse slowed deliberately.
"My friend?"
"The sister."
Molly.
Brian didn't hesitate.
"She's in town."
Jack raised an eyebrow slightly.
"Didn't think she'd come back."
"She didn't want to sit at home."
Jack studied him carefully.
"And you're okay with that?"
Brian leaned back in his chair.
"She's staying with me."
The words landed calmly between them.
Jack's expression shifted—subtle but noticeable.
"Oh?"
Brian met his gaze evenly.
"It's easier that way. Hotels add up."
"And she's not… getting involved?"
"No."
Brian kept his tone steady.
"She promised she's staying out of the investigation. She just wants to be close."
Jack watched him for a long moment.
Then nodded slowly.
"Good."
There was something almost approving in his voice.
"You don't need complications right now," Jack added.
"I can handle it."
"I'm sure you can."
The silence lingered.
Then Jack smiled faintly.
"Just be careful. Emotions make people sloppy."
Brian didn't flinch.
"I'm not sloppy."
Jack held his gaze another second.
Then left.
Brian waited until the door shut before exhaling.
He hadn't lied.
Not entirely.
And that made it believable.
That night, Molly sat across from him at the small kitchen table.
"He asked about me?" she repeated.
"Yes."
"What did you say?"
"That you're staying here. That we're… seeing each other."
Her eyes widened slightly.
"Oh."
"It gives you a reason to be here."
She nodded slowly.
"And I'm staying out of the case."
"Publicly."
She understood.
"If he sees us together?"
"Then that's exactly what he sees."
A cover.
A distraction.
Protection.
Molly studied him for a long moment.
"You're good at this," she said quietly.
"I have to be."
Outside, the night stretched quietly and unaware.
At the cabin, Jack stood at the window staring out into the dark.
He wasn't suspicious.
Not yet.
If anything—
Molly's presence in town amused him.
She was grieving.
Desperate.
Clinging to the detective.
It made sense.
It made things easier.
And somewhere deep inside him—
A new thought began forming.
Not dangerous yet.
Just curious.
But curiosity had always been where his control began.
And that—
Would matter later.