There were no more letters from his mother in the drawer. Jonah wondered if they’d been a last-ditch effort to get his father to listen, after he’d tuned out her pleading in person. One more letter of interest, from a Silversand elder warning his father that they had spotted a suspicious man armed with a gun in the area.

Setting the letter down, Jonah tried to put the puzzle pieces together. His father had an affair with a human woman. The husband of his mistress had found out and come to town for vengeance. Had he found it? Jonah thought of his mother’s body, and the mysterious circumstances surrounding her death, the way he’d never gotten the answers he’d needed.

If that man had killed his mother, perhaps his father had been driven by more than grief but guilt as well. Perhaps he’d shut down the town to keep anything like that from happening again, to protect his wolves from human intruders. It was his father’s way, that black-and-white thinking. Now, where did Evans fit into the puzzle, Jonah wondered.

As the child of the mistress, he might resent Jonah’s father for destroying his parents’ marriage. He might resent him for the wolf form he’d inherited, without the knowledge of being surrounded by a pack. Jonah sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Even if he had managed to untangle this web, it wouldn’t have fixed the problems he was facing now.

That would come down to Evans. As much as Jonah wanted to rip the other man’s throat out, remembering how he’d knocked Moira aside, he knew he had to try to reason with him first. He had to try to patch up the things his father had torn apart.

With a final look around the office, Jonah turned out the lamp and went back downstairs. He couldn’t linger there with the ghosts of his parents so close. The memories seemed to come alive the longer he stayed in that place, and now, with the words of his mother’s heartache in his mind, they were too much for him to bear.

He locked the door and made a mental note to call a cleaning crew the next day, then went home to take a long shower, scrubbing the dust from his skin as his thoughts tangled.

***

Two days later, Jonah was no closer to finding Evans.

“So what, no one has heard from him?” Moira asked, frowning. “And he’s trying to be the next alpha? Not exactly giving off the most reliable vibe.”

They were on their way to drop off the check with Mrs. Alden, and he could feel Moira’s excitement in the way she walked and the quick, giddy smile on her face that even their conversation couldn’t stifle. She was healed up after her tumble with the other wolf. She had been given Vera’s seal of approval to leave the house. However, it had come with a list of conditions that Jonah had to abide by and the promise that if Moira ever got hurt under his watch again, he’d pay for it.

“It’s certainly suspicious,” Jonah agreed. “But maybe he just needed to go home for a while. He didn’t grow up here, after all. I’m trying not to jump to conclusions.”

He’d already told her everything he’d found in his parents' house. Moira listened thoughtfully, and he could see her mind working as she puzzled out the same pieces he had and came to the same conclusions.

“Better for us if he never comes back, honestly,” Moira said.

It would make things simpler. With no competition for alpha, Jonah could assume the role and begin putting things back together for the Silversands. And if Evans really was the vandal at the heart of the latest crimes, the area would be a lot safer, too. But he couldn’t imagine Evans just walking away from everything.

“We shouldn't talk about it now. I want to focus on your new bakery.” Jonah passed her check as they approached Mrs. Alden’s house, a shabby two-story with a lovingly tended garden out front and a pumpkin on her stairs.

“My new bakery,” Moira breathed, staring down at the check in her hand. “I can’t believe it. Is this real?”

She held it up to the sunlight like she was checking for fake money, then pressed it against her chest.

“Scout’s honor,” Jonah promised. He ran up the steps and rang the doorbell. “Get up here. This is all you, Moira.”

She smoothed her knit dress and took the steps slowly, like she expected the whole place to vanish any moment. It stayed solid, and they waited side by side outside of Mrs. Alden’s.

“Should I ring it again?” Jonah asked, peering at the windows beside the door. Blue, floral curtains hung in front of them, blocking his view inside, but there was a light on somewhere.

She grabbed his arm to stop him. “She’s old, she moves slowly. Give her a minute to get to the door.”

They waited. And waited. Jonah bounced on his toes and cupped his hands around his forehead, taking another look inside.

“I’m going to knock,” he said, raising his hand, “just in case she can’t hear the doorbell.”

He tapped his knuckles against the door and waited, watching Moira from the corner of his eye. She was breathtaking. Every time he looked at her, his heart pattered faster, and it was all he could do to stop himself from begging her to give them a real chance. What if they could be more than fake mates?

His feelings for her were complicated, the mix of guilt and attraction, the pull of fate like a pressure chamber, and he knew she didn’t feel the same about him. How could she, after how he’d treated her? Still, she played her part so well, and Jonah knew it was a testament to how badly she wanted this bakery that she was willing to put up with him to get it.

“Maybe she’s not home?” Moira held the check tightly with both hands. “We could come back another time.”

“The light’s on,” Jonah reminded her, “and from what you’ve told me about her, she doesn’t seem like the type of woman who would go around wasting electricity. Something is off here.”

Moira took his place at the window, craning her neck to see around the curtain. “Try the door.”

Surprisingly, it opened. The ease of entry only increased Jonah’s feeling that something was wrong inside. He didn’t waste his breath asking Moira to stay outside, knowing she’d follow him in regardless of what he said.