Page 54 of My Secret Santa Clayton

“Morning, Grace, Clay,” he said with a nod. “What brings you here today?”

I walked up to the desk, my steps firm on the linoleum floor. “I need to speak with someone,” I said. The words came out steady. I didn't let my voice shake. “There have been threats on my life...and I need you to help me contact the FBI.”

Deputy Langley looked at me, his eyebrows knitting together. He opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, the door swung open. It banged against the wall and I jumped.

“Grace!” Mariah called out as she rushed over. She wrapped her arms around me in a tight embrace. “What's wrong?”

I hugged her back, feeling a bit of my tension release. “I was just about to file a report with the deputy.”

Mariah's eyes went wide; she had heard the fear in my voice. She glanced at Clay, then back to me, asking silent questions. I nodded once, more to myself than anyone else. I squared my shoulders and faced Deputy Langley.

“I have information that could lead to uncovering a large criminal network,” I said. My words hung between us, heavy and true. “But I've received threats, and I fear for my safety.”

Deputy Langley's eyes locked with mine. He nodded once, slowly. “I think we need to speak more privately,” he said, pushing back from his desk and standing up. “I'm calling in the sheriff…let's get you safe.”

“Thank you,” I managed to say, the relief tangible. Though we stood in a police station, I hadn't allowed myself to believe help was truly at hand until now.

“Give me a minute,” Langley said and walked toward a door marked “Private.” He disappeared behind it, leaving Clay, Mariah, and me in the cramped space of the main office.

Clay gave my hand a squeeze, his way of telling me without words that he was there, no matter what. I squeezed back, grateful for the gesture but unable to shake off the sense that danger still hung over us.

This was all finally coming to an end.

But I knew it might end in blood.

TWENTY-FOUR

Clay

Grace finished telling the sheriff all that had happened…and all I could do was sit there, my hands clenched into fists under the table.

Grace's voice was calm, steady, but I could tell each word cost her something. She finished recounting the horrors Sheriff Callahan needed to hear, and an icy fear gripped me.

Murders. Threats.

The story had layers I hadn't even suspected.

“Grace, why didn't you tell me?” I asked as the three of us sat down at the diner afterward—me, Grace, and Mariah. My voice sounded foreign to my own ears, rougher than usual.

She looked at me, eyes sparkling. “I thought I could handle it,” she said.

It was sunny out, but it felt like anything but. Christmas was in full swing outside, and this…it was totally at odds with what I was seeing.

Mariah's tears fell silently as she listened to Grace. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, her sadness clear.

“Grace, we're sisters,” Mariah said, her voice breaking. “You should have told me. I could have been there for you.”

Grace reached across the table, taking Mariah's hand. “I'm sorry, Mariah,” she said. “I should've told you everything; I should've let you in.”

Mariah's fingers tightened around Grace's, her smile weak but present. “I get it, you were scared.”

I leaned back against the booth, my eyes on Grace. Her hand trembled slightly as she pulled her hand from Mariah’s, touched the napkin, then smoothed it out again. She took a breath and met my gaze.

“I've made a decision,” Grace announced, her focus shifting from my face to Mariah's and back again. “I'm going to drop the story. It's not worth risking our safety anymore.”

Mariah's expression changed in an instant. Her eyes grew wide, and the relief that swept over her was clear as day. She leaned forward, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Really, Grace? You're sure?” Mariah asked, her hands finding Grace’s across the table.

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