Page 25 of Gentle Warrior

“Already on it,” Link responded. “I’ve breached the DEA systems and tapped into all police communications—anything with intel on the Latin Counts is coming straight to me. Plus, I’ve got some local contacts feeding real-time updates. We’ll keep you posted if anything shifts.”

Moose ended the call, feeling a slight edge of relief. The Protectors from Virginia and Colorado were mobilizing fast, every second counted now.

After finishing the call with Link, Moose pulled Elena aside, his voice low and serious. “Let’s step out to the barn and do some chores while we talk.” The familiar surroundings, the fresh air, and the steady rhythm of work always helped him think—and maybe it would help Elena, too.

Moose moved easily around the barn, a sense of home settling over him as he scattered feed for the chickens. Years of growing up here meant chores like this were second nature. He kept his tone gentle, careful not to rush her. “Tell me about the history between you and Aaron.”

Elena hesitated, then sighed softly. “We lived with the same foster parents during our junior and senior years… or until he gave up and dropped out.” Her gaze dropped to the ground as she spoke.

Moose nodded slowly and picked up an armful of hay for the goats. “Did he struggle in school?”

She glanced up briefly. “Yeah. He had dyslexia and it was hard for him. I used to read his homework to him—tried to help so he could graduate.”

As they moved to the goat pen, Moose continued, “What about your foster parents? Were they strict?”

“They were okay,” Elena replied, her fingers brushing the goats’ fur with care. “They let Aaron stay until I graduated, even though he dropped out. They had so many kids already—five younger foster kids to care for. They told us from the start to be ready to leave once we graduated.”

Moose paused, watching her feed the animals slowly. The thought of being turned out into the world at eighteen tightened his chest. “I can’t imagine handling all that on my own. The Navy helped me find my way. How’d y’all manage?”

Elena hesitated, then said quietly, “That’s why we lived together—in a tiny one-bedroom apartment in one of the worst parts of Detroit. It was the only way to survive, to try to get out.”

Moose nodded slowly, picturing them cramped in that small space for four years. It seemed likely their relationship went beyond friendship—sharing a place like that usually meant something deeper.

He asked gently, “Did your foster parents prepare you for that? Jobs, saving money?”

She glanced up briefly, then back at the goats. “Yeah. They taught us life skills… more than most other homes probably would.”

The weight of their struggles pressed down on him, giving new perspective to their story and yet another reason, beyond the age difference, to keep his distance.

“I’m sorry for your loss. I imagine it’ll be hard to move forward without Aaron,” Moose said quietly.

Elena looked at him steadily. “Thanks, Moose. It will be hard, but not for the reason you’re thinking. We weren’t… a couple. We were just friends. Living together was about survival, plain and simple. Sharing a place was the only way to make it through. Nothing more.”

Moose paused for a moment, surprised by her candidness. He hadn’t expected their relationship to be so straightforward, and the clarity eased some of the assumptions he’d been carrying. Nodding slowly, he let the moment settle before shifting his focus back to the case. “Thanks for telling me,” he said softly. Then, “Did Aaron ever mention how he kept track of things? Like a calendar?”

Elena’s eyes flickered with a hint of memory. “He didn’t like to write. Said it was too hard with his dyslexia. But he had this digital voice recorder—one of those that syncs to the cloud automatically.”

She shrugged, uncertainty creeping into her voice. “He could dictate into it, used it for things like how to fix the carburetor on an old car, or reminders at work. I didn’t realize he was involved in anything else. I thought it was just for everyday stuff.”

Moose’s brow furrowed. “That’s still a start. If he used the recorder for practical things, maybe he stored other recordings there, too. We just have to find them—and figure out how to access them.”

Elena glanced up, hope mingling with worry. “I just wish I knew more.”

“We’ll find a way,” Moose promised.

Moose pulled out his phone and quickly typed a group message to Bear, Link, and Swede.

“Team, update: Aaron used a cloud-sync voice recorder for reminders—car fixes, jobs. Might have more on the case. Need you to track his accounts, devices, recordings. Could be key. Keep me posted.”

He hit send and pocketed the phone, hoping his team could uncover something to help them stay one step ahead.

17 - ELENA

The air was cool as Moose and Elena stepped away from the barn, the fading light casting long shadows across the yard. The sky above shifted into soft shades of lavender, and the steady chorus of crickets filled the quiet evening.

Elena tugged her jacket tighter, and Moose stepped closer, reaching out to help zip it up. She glanced up at him, momentarily caught off guard by the simple gesture but grateful nonetheless.

“Thanks for helping with the night chores,” she said quietly, her voice carrying a hint of warmth.