Travis Cain walked in as though the diner belonged to him.
By then, I had begun to realize that, in his mind, it did.
Up close, he looked younger than I expected.
Early thirties.
Well groomed.
Broad shoulders.
An expensive jacket.
The relaxed confidence of someone who had spent his entire life believing consequences were reserved for other people.
“Well,” he said as he spotted my mother. “Look who’s back at work.”
He slid onto a stool as casually as if it were any ordinary morning.
“Your daughter come home, Evelyn? I heard she flew in from wherever it is she plays soldier.”
My mother’s hand froze around the coffee pot.
“Order something or leave, Travis.”
“I hear she’s been asking questions.”
He watched her closely.
“Talking to people at the records office. Looking through things that don’t concern her.”
Every muscle in my body tightened.
I stayed where I was.
For the moment.
“She’s worried about her mother,” Evelyn replied evenly. “Any daughter would be.”
Travis slowly looked around the diner.
I watched him study every face, noting who dared watch him and who suddenly found something else to look at.
Then his eyes landed on me.
To him, I was just another woman sitting alone in a booth.
Nothing worth remembering.
I stood.
Crossing the room, I stopped beside the counter, forcing him to turn on his stool.
“You must be Travis.”
My voice remained calm.
Measured.
The same voice I used while briefing officers on difficult situations.
“I’m Nicole. Evelyn’s daughter.”
Something flashed across his face.
Recognition.
Or perhaps caution.
It disappeared almost instantly.
He leaned back, resting an elbow on the counter.
“So this is the one.”
He smirked.
“The soldier girl.”
He spoke the word soldier as though it tasted unpleasant.
“Your mother has told me all about you.”
“I doubt that.”
His smile remained.
“Let me give you a little advice, since you’re back in town.”
“I grew up here.”
“Then you already know how things work.”
He leaned closer, lowering his voice as though he were sharing a secret.
“Around here, I’m the law. You keep asking questions and digging through records that don’t belong to you, things may become difficult.”
He paused deliberately.
“Ask your father.”
The entire diner went silent.
Inside me, something hardened.
“My father died six years ago,” I said. “In a vehicle accident.”
“That’s right.”
His smile widened.
“Accidents happen. Especially to people who don’t know when to leave things alone.”
I didn’t raise my voice.
I didn’t clench my fists, although every instinct I possessed urged me to.
Instead, I studied him the way I had studied hostile men across negotiation tables overseas.
The kind who confused fear with respect.
The kind who mistook temporary power for permanence.
“No,” I said quietly.
He frowned.
“No, what?”
“It isn’t going to end well for you.”
I let the words hang between us.
“The law is coming.”
A brief pause.
“It’s simply running late.”
He shot to his feet so quickly the stool scraped loudly across the floor.
Then he deliberately slammed one shoulder into mine.
Not hard enough to knock me down.
Just enough to intimidate.
Just enough to stay barely inside the line he believed protected him.
“Watch yourself,” he said.
The humor had disappeared from his voice.
At that exact moment, the front door opened.
Sheriff Harper walked inside.
It almost looked as though someone had called him—or as though he’d been waiting nearby for the confrontation to reach exactly this point.
He never even glanced at Travis.
Instead, he looked directly at me.
