Page 47 of Saving it with My Best Friend's Brother

“Exactly.” Agent Blake’s expression was grim. “Whatever’s in that wishing well, if your mother hid it there, it could be the missing piece we need. But Ms. Horton...” Her voice softened. “You need to be careful. These people have already proven they’re willing to kill.”

“I’ve got two plainclothes agents in town,” Deputy Roberts added. “They’ll maintain distance but keep eyes on you. And we’ll have patrols on Pine Haven Road all night.”

Hunter squeezed my hand. “My security team will coordinate with them.”

“Document everything at the well,” Agent Blake instructed. “Photos, video, exact location. And Ms. Horton? The second you have whatever your mother hid, you call me. Immediately.”

“What about the festival tomorrow?” Claire asked.

“Keep it running,” Agent Blake decided. “We’ll have undercover agents in the crowd. If Wheeler or Crystal Ridge tries anything public...”

“We’ll catch them in the act,” Deputy Roberts finished.

After law enforcement left, I felt both better and worse. Better knowing we weren’t facing this alone, worse knowing how serious the situation was.

“Hey.” Hunter turned me to face him. “This is good. We’re doing this right.”

“He’s right,” Claire agreed, already gearing up with flashlights and evidence bags provided by the deputies. “Now we need to find what your mother hid while the FBI builds their case.”

I nodded, drawing strength from their support and the knowledge that law enforcement was backing us.

“The deputies will be in position in ten minutes.” Hunter checked his phone. “Ready?”

I thought of my mother, of all she’d risked to gather evidence. Of how she’d protected the truth until someone could use it.

“Ready.”

As we headed out, another text came through. Not from Wheeler this time, but from an unknown number. The phone’s screen cast a sickly glow across my office. Claire’s sharp intake of breath broke the silence as the image loaded—my mother’s car, twisted metal gleaming in crime scene photos, pine branches scattered across the wreckage.

The message blurred as I read:Like mother, like daughter. Some wishes never come true, princess.

Hunter stepped closer, his shadow merging with mine on the wall. In the distance, Pine Haven’s ancient grandfather clock struck eleven, each chimes an echo of time running out. But as Hunter’s hand found mine, fingers intertwining with quiet strength, I felt something else too: hope, determination, and the certainty that my mother hadn’t fought alone.

Neither would I.

The grandfather clock’s final chime faded into silence.

One hour until midnight.

One hour to find what my mother had hidden all those years ago, and bring the truth into light at last.

Chapter Twelve

Hunter

Morning sunlight gilded Pine Haven’s century-old timber beams, casting long shadows across freshly swept pathways as the first festival guests arrived. I watched Amelia welcome each family from my position on the wraparound deck. Despite only catching a few hours of sleep after our discovery at the wishing well, her natural warmth drew people in. The way she kneeled to meet children at eye level, remembered returning guests’ names, and pointed out the best spots for photos. It all seemed effortless.

A light breeze carried the scent of Marie’s fresh-baked pastries and early blooming mountain wildflowers. Agent Blake appeared beside me, her casual tourist attire carefully chosen to blend with the growing crowd.

“Area secure?” she asked quietly, sunglasses concealing her watchful gaze.

“Perimeter teams in place. Undercover agents dispersed through the festival grounds. Local deputies are covering all access roads,” I confirmed, noting the positions of each security member I could spot. They moved naturally through the crowd, indistinguishable from excited tourists.

“And the evidence from the well?”

My hand instinctively touched my jacket pocket, where the safe deposit box key rested. The weight of it reminded me of everything at stake. “Safe. The documents we found...” I paused, still processing their implications. “They’re devastating. Your team has copies?”

She nodded, tracking Wheeler’s arrival with subtle precision. His expensive shoes seemed out of place on Pine Haven’s rustic paths, his smile too sharp for the festive atmosphere. “Analysis running now. But today—“

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