Page 76 of Her Wild Coast Refuge

“Carl Pfeifer, McKenzie Herald.”

As I slide my hand from his, the shock of recognition hits me. “You’re the one who leaked Terrilynn’s name.”

He holds my gaze, a triumphant gleam in his eye. Like he gets off on being recognized, even for being a sleazebag.

“It was my duty to report what I discovered.”

I blink at him. “That story got her killed.”

“Her death was tragic.” He shakes his head, grimacing. “But that girl dug her own grave.”

I glare at this asshole. Does he even care about the choice Terrilynn was facing? The trap those thugs set for her? Guilt washes through me. Even though I didn’t know Terrilynn well, I wish I could have helped her.

“Mind if I walk with you?” Carl flashes a half-smile. “Got some information you mind find interesting.”

I cross my arms. “I do mind, actually. What’s this about?”

“I took a scenic flight yesterday.” Carl juts his chin to the north. “I was surprised to see a survey camp up in your watershed. An active one.”

My heart races. If he knows, then it won’t be long before the news gets out.

Carl narrows his eyes. “What did Bealer-Vollbrecht International pay you to look the other way?”

“Excuse me?” It takes me a split second to realize that if Carl found the name of the mining company, he already knows a lot.

“Looks like it was enough for fancy new gear.” He nods at the expensive Sage fly rod Dawson gave me.

I’m too flustered to think up a cohesive reply. “You’ve got it all wrong.”

“How about your brothers? Eagle Ridge Outdoors School has a couple of new buildings. Have you seen the cost of lumber lately? And didn’t a different brother just buy himself a plane?” He whistles.

“My brothers would never take a bribe.”

“How long did you wait after your grandfather died to dismantle his plans to preserve Soren Creek?”

“No!” I shake my head hard. “That’s not what happened. There was an existing claim. We didn’t know about it until recently.”

Hunter discovered that two years ago, Allen Daly, deep in debt after a string of bad financial decisions and two expensive divorces, had been thrilled when a land brokerage firm offered him $100,000 for his great-great grandfather mineral rights.

“Doesn’t look like you’re putting up much of a fight,” Carl says, arching his eyebrow.

“My family is doing everything we can. We’re going to stop them.”

Carl tsks at me. “You’ve already failed, Ms. McCabe.”

I wheel away from his smug face and hurry up the trail.

Because Quinnand Dawson cancelled their meetings yesterday, they spend the next two days getting caught up. To keep my mind busy, I set up my jewelry supplies and tools on the kitchen table to work on my latest design. While I take apart several sets of earrings I found at a junk sale, salvaging the pretty stones, my conversation with Carl filters into my thoughts. Is there another reporter I could talk to? Someone who would do the right thing instead of stir up controversy that isn’t there?

Maybe Hunter will get through to someone from Dad’s past, someone with power. Maybe the money my brothers scraped together is enough to get Alaska Wild to change their mind about suing the mining company.

Maybe.

The possibility that Carl could be right—that we’re too late to fight back, too late to save Soren Creek—won’t let me go.

When Dawson and Quinn leave at the end of the week, I can return my whole focus to the cause that needs me: protecting my family’s land. I bring my locket to my lips for a gentle kiss as I renew my promise to keep Soren Creek safe.

When I driveto the rental house Sunday evening, I’m giddy with anticipation. It’s taken some string-pulling and persistence plus help from Jared, but I have a surprise for Dawson. Ever since he left that special gift for me in the cab of Cooper’s truck, I’ve been trying to find a way to repay him. I can’t wait to see the look on his face!

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