Page 147 of On the Other Side
The drive to Ford’s place took blessedly little time. As we piled into the house, we all immediately clocked it was empty, but for the wagging Keeley.
“Bree’s at work. Peyton’s at track practice. They’ll see you later.” Ford stuck his head into the fridge and pulled out bottles.
We ended up at the kitchen island, longnecks sweating slightly in our hands. Sawyer leaned on his elbows like he was ready to spill everything at once. Ford stayed steady, quiet, anchoring the room just by being there. Jace sat on a stool, posture relaxed but eyes alert, like he wasn’t sure yet that he could let his guard down.
I watched him take his first sip. Watched the way his shoulders loosened a fraction. Beer couldn’t fix what war did to a man, but it reminded you that you weren’t alone in it.
“All right,” Jace said after another swallow. “Start from the top. Last thing I knew, y’all were trying to keep the island from imploding.”
Over our beers and a bag of nacho chips somebody dug out of a cabinet, we told him all of it. From Priya’s disappearance to how Madden and I had ended up taking on the case, to the bigger rot we’d discovered because of it. All the way up to Carson’s execution and the SBI’s involvement.
“The audit’s still ongoing. Probably will be for a few more months.” I plucked another chip from the bag. “And that more or less brings us to where we are.”
Jace took another sip before leaning back slightly, letting the information settle. When he spoke again, his voice was quieter. “I think they’re right to ask you. It feels like acknowledgement, finally, that they see the man you really are, not who they believed you were back in the day. You were the one who helped expose Carson in the first place.”
My throat tightened unexpectedly. Not because I wanted praise. I didn’t. But because hearing that from Jace—who knew more about secrets than any of us, who’d seen the worst of people and still chose to come home—hit different.
“Not alone,” I added.
Jace caught my gaze. “Which brings me to the other surprising piece of this. You and Madden Reilly. Never would have called that one. But if she makes you happy, man, that’s all that matters.”
“She does.” The words came out simple. No qualifiers. No jokes. No armor.
Ford made a low sound of agreement. “They’re cohabitating and everything.”
Sawyer grinned like he’d been waiting for that opening. “We’re taking bets on how long it takes him to propose.”
I leveled them both with a flat stare. “We’re taking things slow. She’s got enough on her plate hanging out her own shingle here. Or will be. She’s still waiting on the Bar to finish their investigation to get her license transferred. Not to mention, we both kinda feel like we’re waiting for the other shoe to drop. Whatever is going on was bigger than Carson.”
Silence stretched for a beat as we all sat with the truth of that.
Jace’s gaze stayed on me, thoughtful. “All the more reason for you to take the job. Then you have the credentials and access to maybe do something about it.”
I took a long drink, buying time. Because he wasn’t wrong. He also wasn’t living inside my skin.
“The thing is,” I said finally, setting the bottle down with a soft click, “neither of us knows who we can trust outside our circle. So Madden’s calling in some help.”
Jace’s brows lifted. “What kind of help?”
“You ever hear of that podcast, Unaccounted?”
His eyes narrowed slightly as he searched his memory. “True crime missing persons deal, right?”
“Yeah,” I confirmed. “Guy who runs it is a good friend of hers from law school. He’s been investigating this stuff for years outside the usual channels. She’s tapping him for help. He’s tied up with a case himself right now, but he’s sending one of his people. She should be here sometime next week.”
Jace made a quiet sound. “Hmm.”
Sawyer narrowed his eyes. “You’ve got that I know something but I can’t say anything or I’d have to kill you look.”
Jace’s mouth twitched. “Let’s just say I have professional reasons for being in the area for longer than a 48-hour visit.”
Ford stilled, the movement so slight I almost missed it. Sawyer’s grin faded into something sharper. Even I felt the shift—like the room had tilted a degree.
I caught Jace’s eye. “Does that mean we can count on your help with this?”
He didn’t hesitate. He stood, stepped around the island, and offered his hand. Not a handshake. A brother thing.
I met him halfway and clasped his forearm, grip tight, familiar, sealing a promise without needing paperwork or witnesses.
“Anything I can do, brother,” he said.
