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CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

As Tyson stood on the deck keeping an eye on Olivia as she sat on the beach, his cell phone buzzed against the wooden railing. He glanced at the display.

Detective Scarborough.

“I have an update for you,” he started. “It’s about Donald.”

Tyson’s breath caught. “What about him?”

“They found his body this morning. Hidden in a drainage ditch about five miles from your property. We searched that area before, and I’m not sure why we didn’t find him there earlier.”

Tyson closed his eyes. “What happened?”

“It appears to be a self-inflicted gunshot wound. Maybe the guilt got to him.”

“Are you sure it was self-inflicted?”

“He still had the gun in his hands. Between that and the mask we found in his house, it seems like a slam dunk.”

Tyson’s throat tightened. “That doesn’t fit this guy’s MO.”

“I get what you’re saying. We’ll keep investigating. But if someone did this to Donald and set him up, then I have to say he has some kind of familiarity with the area. I don’t think this is a random strange who blew in from out of town. It could be someone close.”

A lump formed in his throat. Tyson hated the thought.

Someone close? Close to him?

Even though he’d background checked his staff, if one of them was guilty . . .

The only person who possibly came to mind was Hobbes—not that he believed his assistant would do something like this.

But Hobbes was the only one constantly around. Plus, he had been in New York when Olivia had been abducted the first time.

But he just didn’t want to believe it was true.

Tyson thanked the detective. But just as he ended that call, his phone rang again.

His chest tightened when he saw the name on the screen.

Damon Kudlow. The casino developer who desperately wanted the property Tyson was building the school on.

With a grimace, he answered. “Stone.”

“Time’s running out.” Kudlow’s voice sounded smooth, practiced. “The tribal council votes next week. Without you there to charm them, I like my odds.”

Tyson gripped the railing until his knuckles whitened. “The school will be built, Kudlow. With or without me physically present.”

Kudlow chuckled. “Noble sentiment. But we both know how these things work. They need to see your face, your commitment. Otherwise, it’s just another empty promise from another outsider.”

Tyson’s jaw tightened so hard it ached.

The worst part was that Kudlow wasn’t entirely wrong. Tyson’s absence at this critical juncture could be disastrous for the project. Years of work, his grandmother’s dream—all of it hung in the balance.

“And these . . . incidents with your houseguest,” Kudlow continued. “Unfortunate timing, wouldn’t you say?”

Ice slid down Tyson’s spine. “What exactly are you implying?”

“Nothing at all. Just observing that with you distracted by Ms. Montgomery’s troubles, my proposal looks more attractive by the day.” His voice contained a smugness that only served to further irritate Tyson. “You have a nice day now.”

The call ended, leaving Tyson staring at the ocean, jaw still clenched and thoughts racing.

Could there be a connection between this casino and what had happened to Olivia? He’d considered it before but brushed off the idea. But now, maybe he should consider the idea more—and maybe even share it with Scarborough.

After all, the timing was suspicious. The escalation of threats against Olivia did coincide with the final phase of the school fundraising project.

As his thoughts wandered, Tyson stood motionless, watching the waves crash against the shore. Olivia sat on the beach watching them too.

She didn’t know it, but he always watched her when she was outside.

He wanted her to feel a sense of independence and privacy. But he also wanted to keep her safe.

However, how was he supposed to keep Olivia safe when they were facing someone this determined, this calculated?

* * *

Tyson waited until Olivia was back inside later that day.

She’d gone to her room and had said she was going to take a nap.

When he was sure she was safely in her room, he went back to his office and stared at the papers spread across the small desk. The numbers blurred before his eyes.

No matter how he calculated it, the result was the same.

Without his presence at the council meeting—without his ability to address concerns in person, to leverage his relationships—the school project would lose momentum.

With Frontier Resorts applying pressure, offering immediate economic benefits over long-term educational investment, that loss of momentum could be fatal.

He raked a hand through his hair and closed his eyes.

He needed to make a decision, and he had no time to waste.

His phone rang. It was Danuwoa from the tribe.

“The council’s wavering, Tyson.” Danuwoa’s voice sounded tight with concern. “Kudlow’s people are saying you’ve abandoned the project, that your fitness empire is more important than the community.”

“That’s not true.” Tyson’s back went ramrod straight as tension pulsed through him. “You know why I can’t be there right now.”

“I do, but they’re asking for assurances. Physical presence. They need to see your commitment.”

“You know I’m good for it. I’ve been there for you in the past. You know I’m a man of my word.”

“I do. But I’m having trouble convincing everyone else of it. You know the people here are untrusting and sometimes desperate. The casino seems to offer more immediate answers to their concerns—it will bring jobs and money.”

Tyson raked a hand through his hair. “What am I supposed to do? I’m trying to protect Olivia.”

“It sounds like you have some decisions to make.”

Yes, he did.

After the call, Tyson stared out the window.

The choice before him was impossible. Return to the reservation for the council meeting, potentially saving the school but leaving Olivia vulnerable. Or stay, protecting her but watching his grandmother’s dream slip through his fingers.

Years of work. Millions invested. A promise made to a dying woman.

But how could that compare to the safety of someone he was coming to care for deeply? Someone who’d already endured more than anyone should?

He closed his eyes and poured out his troubles to God in prayer.

Tyson made his decision.

He’d stay in Ocracoke. He’d keep Olivia safe, even if it meant losing everything else.

The school, his reputation, his promise—all of it was secondary to preventing another tragedy.

He only hoped Olivia would forgive him for the choices he was making on her behalf.

For the way he was inserting himself into her story . . . whether she wanted him there or not.