Page 56 of Finding Home

The third article was the hardest thing she’d written in years.

Not because she couldn’t locate the shape of it. She knew exactly what the story was: a county process corrupted, a competitor held accountable, a community project cleared to continue. The facts were documented. The sourcing was solid. Griffin’s editors had already reviewed the legal framing. She had everything she needed.

The difficulty was Pete Sawyer.

She could write around him. Give him two sentences in the middle of the piece, call him a cooperating witness, and let the Harmon charges carry the rest of the story. That was the easier choice, and she could make it defensible. Sawyer had committed arson. He’d put Noah and Cole’s crew at risk. He’d delayed a project that mattered to the people of Sapphire Bay.

But she’d thought about what Pete Sawyer’s mornings looked like now, knowing what he’d done. She’d thought about his wife and daughter, who didn’t choose this and had no say in the way their husband and father’s name would appear in print.

None of that was a reason to change what she wrote. None of it altered the facts or her obligation to report them clearly.

But it was a reason to be careful.

She wrote it the way she would have wanted it written if she’d been the one looking for a way out and found only a wall. She gave him a complete sentence. She described the financial leverage Harmon had used. She did not editorialize and she did not excuse. Julie said what and why it had happened, and she’d let the reader hold both things without telling them what to conclude.

Thirty minutes before her deadline, she read the article twice from the beginning, the way she always did before filing.

The structure was sound. The sourcing was clean. Pete Sawyer appeared where he needed to appear, and Marcus Harmon was named where his actions had earned his name.

Taking a deep breath, she clicked on the file on her laptop, and sent it to the paper.

Chapter 35

Cole was on the veranda when Julie pulled up. He had his coat on and a second mug in his hand. She’d called to see if he was still awake and wanting a visitor. After spending most nights at his house, he was offended that she’d asked.

Julie climbed the steps and took the mug from him. “Thanks.”

Cole kissed her gently. “You’re welcome. And just for the record, you’re more than a visitor.”

Julie smiled and held his hand. “I was being polite.” The cold had settled in fully, and the stars were out above the ridge in the way they got on still nights, abundant and close. She could hear the lake but not see it.

She told Cole about Griffin’s call. About the charges, and about Pete Sawyer. He listened the whole way through without interrupting. It was a thing she valued in him, the quality of his attention when something mattered.

When she’d finished speaking, he looked down at her. “Can I read the article?”

Julie pulled out her phone, found the draft she’d sent to herself before filing, and handed it to him. “It goes live tomorrow.”

They went into the living room and Cole read the story.

He read it once. Then he went back to the top and read it again.

Then he handed the phone back.

“You got it right,” he said.

Julie looked at her phone. “I could have written it in a lot of different ways, but that was for the best.”

Cole was quiet for a moment. Then he said, “It was. You did a good job.”

And she believed him.

Chapter 36

The drive to Finley Point took twenty-two minutes.

Cole knew because he counted. He’d promised his cardiologist he’d stay away from work, but he was only going to look at the site. There was a difference, and he intended to hold the line between them.

He parked at the far end of the cleared lot and slowly got out of his truck. His body was still reminding him that he wasn’t fully healed. A low ache spread across his chest when he moved too quickly, and a heaviness in his legs on cold mornings. Even though he didn’t like it, he was getting used to listening to his body.