Page 115 of A Wolfe in the Woods

Even though he wouldn’t have threatened anyone, I knew Bernie would’ve never looked away from Erik as he said it all.

Erik didn’t need secrets to destroy someone. He had reach. He had enough power to freeze accounts, bury references, and make an old man’s final years unbearable.

Cruel bastard,I thought.

I began the download. A progress bar crept across the screen—1%…7%…19%. My lungs barely worked. Each second felt agonizing.

With shaking fingers, I initiated the mirror transfer—an automated encrypted duplicate set to dispatch to a dead inbox at midnight if I didn’t cancel it. Evidence that could not be burned, even if I was. Bernie had set it all up overnight and we’d gone over what I needed to do multiple times until I felt confident.

The numbers crawled—54%…68%…76%. The cursor blinked like a pulse.

A soft mechanical whir grew louder behind the server room door. Someone was nearby. My palms went slick. I hovered over the escape key, ready to run.

93%…97%…

100%.

Relief exploded inside my ribs. When it was done, I closed the files quickly and swallowed hard, wiping my sweaty hands on my jeans again.

I stood—quiet, defiant, and, most importantly, proud.This will bring down Skoll for good, I knew.Jonathan will know I had nothing to do with this.

But then I heard it…

The unmistakable click of the door followed by a familiar voice.

“My, Blanchette…what big eyes you have.”

CHAPTER 32

JONATHAN

The notice sat on my desk like a corpse.

I’d read it three times already. Then a fourth. Then once more, slower, like if I took my time the words might rearrange themselves into something reasonable. Plausible.

They didn’t.

TEMPORARY CESSATION OF OPERATIONS.

Pending review. Expired permits. Updated safety codes. Structural compliance issues.

All of it datedthis morning.

The words were printed cleanly. Neutrally. As if this had been routine. As if the inspector hadn’t spent the morning crawling over the B&B like a hound, sniffing for anything he could twist into a violation. As if I hadn’t spent the last six months making damn sure every permit was current—every inspection passed, every update filed.

Harold had never been like that before. The county inspector I’d known for years. He’d always been easygoing. Chatty. More interested in the coffee May offered than nitpicking stair-rail heights. This morning, he’d barely met my eyes. He’d been tight-lipped. Clinically efficient. In and out like he couldn’t wait to be done.

Permits that had recently been cleared suddenly had unexpected “issues.” Minor codes that had never once been a serious concern were now urgent hazards.

It had been less of an inspection and more like a judgment day. It was a clear message.

May had handled the first half of it. Because inspections had always been, at least up until this point, routine. Annoying sometimes, sure…but pretty straightforward.

For the first time, this one hadn’t been.

I could still see the way her shoulders had stiffened when the inspector’s tone changed. The way she’d gone quiet when he’d asked for documents that he’d already known we didn’t have or need. She hadn’t saidThis is wrong—she hadn’t needed to. We’d both known. The expression on her features when she’d stepped aside had said everything.

I leaned back in the chair and rubbed a slow circle at my temple. Outside the reception cabin window, the light was thinning…gold bleeding into gray, the forest settling into its evening hush. The B&B looked the same as it had yesterday. Peaceful. Intact.