Page 13 of Caspian (HC Heroes #14)

T he next morning, Cas pulled into his father’s driveway next to Sadie’s. He had just finished his morning run with the guys and had swung by his own place for a quick shower. Now, he cut the engine then pulled out his phone and fired off a quick text to Harper:

Hey, just got done with my run. Got an idea—how about we hit the library today? See what we can dig up about that April date your great-grandmother mentioned.

He hit Send and leaned back, glancing out over the yard to stare at the apartment over Sadie’s garage, his mind already working through what they might find in the dusty old records of Harland County’s past. A few moments later, his phone buzzed with a response, and he glanced down to see Harper’s reply:

Great idea. I’ve been thinking about that date too. Meet you at my place in thirty?

Cas grinned, glad she was up for it. He typed out a quick response and then pocketed his phone, heading for his father’s front door to check on his progress and grab a cup of coffee.

Twenty-eight minutes later, Cas left his dad’s to walk next door and found Harper already outside, leaning against her truck with a casual confidence that made him smile.

She waved as he approached, and he noticed the faint lines of tension in her face, a reminder of the envelope and the note she’d found yesterday.

He was determined to help her find some answers today.

“Morning,” she greeted him, her eyes bright despite the unease that lingered just beneath the surface.

“Good morning, beautiful,” he replied with a grin. “You ready to play detective?”

Harper laughed, a light sound that seemed to ease some of the weight between them. “As ready as I’ll ever be. Thanks for coming up with this idea. I think it’ll help to start putting some of the pieces together.”

Cas nodded. “But first, there’s something we need to talk about.”

Her expression turned cautious as she frowned. “What’s that?”

“About the note and envelope,” he replied, keeping his tone gentle but firm. “We need to get someone involved. Either the sheriff or the ESI guys could look into it, check the cameras in town, see who might’ve left it in your truck.”

Harper stiffened slightly, her gaze darting away. “Cas, I—”

“Just hear me out,” he cut in, holding up a hand. “I know you want to handle this on your own, but whoever did this might be more serious than we thought. I just don’t want you to take any risks.”

Sighing, she crossed her arms. “I get that, but the sheriff? I’m not sure I want to involve the police just yet.”

He nodded, already expecting her hesitation. “Okay, what about ESI? You already met a few the day you arrived. They’re discreet. We could have Sadie and Dale take the note and envelope over, let them handle it quietly.”

Harper looked torn, her brow furrowing as she weighed her options. After a long pause, she finally nodded. “Okay, ESI. I’d rather keep this low-key for now.”

Cas smiled, relieved. “Good call. I’ll let Dale and Sadie know.”

As if on cue, Dale and Sadie walked out of the back of their house and headed their way.

“Look what the cat drug by, Sadie,” Dale said with a grin.

He shook his head and quickly explained the plan. Harper handed over the envelope and note, her expression guarded but resigned.

“Don’t worry, Harper,” Sadie said, giving her cousin a quick hug. “We’ll get this sorted. ESI will know what to do. I trust them with my life.”

Dale nodded, tucking the envelope into a secure folder using a latex glove. “You guys focus on the library. We’ll take care of the rest.”

Harper’s gaze and smile were full of gratitude.

“Thanks, guys,” he said, squeezing her shoulder gently as they faced the other couple. “Let’s meet up later and see what everyone finds.”

With that, Cas led Harper to his truck next door, then they headed toward the Harland County Library.

As they drove, the tension in the cab slowly ebbed, replaced by the shared sense of purpose.

Glancing over at his silent companion, he caught her in a rare, unguarded moment as she stared out the window, her mind clearly racing.

“Hey,” Cas said softly, reaching over to squeeze her hand. “We’re going to figure this out, okay? One step at a time.”

She turned to face him, and her smile was small but genuine. “Thanks, Cas. I needed that.”

They arrived at the library, an old brick building that had stood in Harland County for over a century and a half.

He remembered coming here for several elementary school field trips.

Then to study for a high school history test, which was code for making out with the head cheerleader in the archive section.

Inside, the familiar scent of aged books and polished wood greeted them, the quiet hum of fluorescent lights casting a soft glow over rows of shelves.

Cas led the way to the archives, glad Harper didn’t ask how he knew where it was located.

Dusty binders and boxes of old newspapers were neatly arranged on metal shelves.

Almost immediately, she dove in with her usual determination, pulling out records and flipping through them with a focused intensity. Cas joined her, scanning dates and headlines, searching for any mention of the tragedy Mary had written about.

After about an hour of digging, Cas found an article from 1937 that caught his eye.

“Hey, Harper, look at this,” he said, sliding the newspaper toward her. “There was a fire at the old church on April 12th, 1937. It says here that a group of people had gathered for a late-night meeting, and something went wrong. Three people died.”

Her sucked in breath cooled the air between them as she leaned over to read the article with wide eyes. “A fire. This could be what Mary was talking about. The flames, the shouting match what she wrote in her diary.”

She pulled the book out of her purse and flipped to a marked page, and together they read the entry that indeed matched the article perfectly.

Cas nodded, feeling a chill run down his spine. “That’s it.”

Before Harper could respond, an older gentleman who had been browsing nearby approached them. His silver hair and neatly pressed shirt gave him an air of quiet authority, and he held a cane in one hand, leaning on it lightly as he walked.

“Excuse me,” the man said, his voice warm but tinged with curiosity. “I couldn’t help but overhearing. Are you looking into the old church fire?”

Harper nodded, surprised lifting her brow. “Yes, we’re trying to learn more about it. My great-grandmother, Mary, mentioned it in her diary.”

The man’s expression softened, his eyes reflecting a deep sadness. “Mary,” he repeated, his voice lowering. “I remember her well. She was a kind soul. I was just a baby when the fire happened. My father was one of the men who died that night.”

“Oh, I’m so very sorry. Mr…” she said, looking expectantly at the man.

“Johnson,” the guy replied. “Will Johnson, Jr. My father was Will, Senior. You can just call me Will.”

Cas exchanged a glance with her before they both leaned closer.

“Do you mind if we ask you what happened, Will?” Cas asked gently. “Do you know how the fire started?”

The man sighed, taking a seat at their table.

“My mother told me it was a meeting about the church’s charity.

Organizing a fundraiser. There were many disagreements about how to handle it.

My father and a few others were trying to work out something that would appease everyone, but not everyone agreed.

Some thought their ideas were better. My father said it was supposed to be a peaceful discussion, but things got heated. And then a fire started.”

Harper listened intently, her heart squeezing at the thought of a discussion about charity getting so out of hand that it led to murder. “Did your mother think it was an accident?” she asked softly.

The man shook his head, his gaze distant. “No. She always believed it was set deliberately. But nothing was ever proven. The town was divided, and the truth was buried along with those who died. Mary was there that night, wasn’t she?”

Harper nodded slowly. “She never talked about it, at least not to anyone in the family. But she wrote about it in her diary, and it haunted her for the rest of her life.”

The man sighed deeply, his shoulders sagging. “It haunted a lot of people. My father was just trying to do the right thing, but not everyone wanted to listen. There were rumors for years, but eventually, folks moved on. It became just another tragedy in the town’s history.”

“What kind of rumors?” Cas asked, not liking the sound of it.

The man hesitated, glancing around the quiet library as if weighing his words carefully.

He lowered his voice as he leaned in slightly.

“There were whispers that someone set the fire intentionally. Some said it was about money, others thought it was revenge over an old feud. But the most persistent rumor was that a prominent family in town wanted control, and they didn’t care who got hurt in the process.

No one could prove anything, though, so it just stayed in the dark, a secret buried with the ashes. ”

“Can you give us the name of this prominent family?” Harper asked, her gaze hopeful.

Will shook his head. “No, sorry, Miss. It was never revealed, only that they were one of the prominent families in town.”

“Then could I trouble you to name the prominent families?” she asked, and Cas silently applauded her gentle pushing.

Mr. Johnson rubbed his chin thoughtfully, his eyes narrowing as he considered Harper’s question. Cas could see the hesitation in the man’s expression, along with the reluctance to stir up old, possibly dangerous waters. Finally, Will sighed and nodded.

“Well, back then, there were a few families that held a lot of sway around here. The Andersons, the Collinses, and the Everetts—those were the big names. They had money, land, and enough influence to steer things the way they wanted.”

Cas glanced at Harper, noting the determined set of her jaw as she scribbled the names in her notebook. He silently admired her persistence, knowing this was just the kind of lead they needed.

“Thank you for telling us,” he said to the man. “It helps to hear from someone who was there, even if you were just a kid.”

Will nodded, slowly rising to his feet. “Be careful what you dig up,” he warned gently. “Some folks still don’t like to talk about it. The past has a way of holding on, even when we think we’ve let it go.”

They watched as the man walked away, the weight of his words hanging in the air. A renewed sense of purpose simmered inside Cas. They were getting closer, but the more they uncovered, the clearer it became that this wasn’t just about the past, it was about people who still had something to lose.

“This is bigger than just a family secret,” Harper said quietly, practically reading his mind. “It’s part of the town’s past, and someone doesn’t want it coming to light.”

Cas nodded, concern for Harper setting his resolve. “We’ll keep digging. Whatever it takes, we’ll find the truth. For Mary and for you. But we need to do it my way. We need to stay vigilant and work together.”

Reaching out to take his hand, she smiled. “Thank you, Cas. I don’t think I could do this without you.”

Warmth zinged through his chest. He squeezed her hand gently. “You’re not alone, Harper. And you never will be.”

The pieces of Mary’s story were starting to form a clearer picture, and it was becoming obvious that someone in town still had a reason to keep those secrets hidden.

“Let’s head to ESI and fill the guys in and also see if they discovered anything from the note and envelope,” he said, holding out his hand.

Nodding, she closed her notebook and shoved it in her purse before taking his hand. “Okay.”

They walked out of the library, each lost in their own thoughts. His mind buzzed with everything they’d learned. The names of the prominent families echoed in his head, each one a potential key to unlocking the truth behind the old tragedy.

As they approached his truck, Cas stiffened and halted their steps.

The hair on the back of his head stood up.

He quickly assessed the area, noting nothing unusual.

Cars drove by. Kids played on the swings in a nearby park.

Across the street was the Artery, a new art gallery that showcased local art, as well as taught classes.

It was owned by one of the ESI guy’s fiancées.

Cas eyed it closely, but again, nothing unusual stuck out.

“What’s wrong?” she asked quietly, shifting closer to him.

He swept his gaze around the area one last time before it came to rest on his truck.

Shit.

Cas blew out a breath and nodded. “That.”

Tucked under the windshield wiper was another envelope, this one stark white. His stomach knotted, and he exchanged a wary glance with Harper.

“Not again,” she muttered, her voice tinged with frustration and a hint of fear.

Carefully pulling the envelope free, he scanned the empty parking lot again.

When he found nothing, he flipped the envelope over, noting that it was addressed to Harper in the same unfamiliar handwriting.

The tension in the air was palpable as he opened it, revealing a single piece of paper with the typed message:

This is your last warning. Stop digging, or there will be consequences.

Harper inhaled, and Cas clenched his jaw, a mix of anger and protectiveness surging through him.

His mind was already spinning with plans to keep her safe.

Whoever was behind this wasn’t just playing games—they were making threats, and Cas wasn’t about to let anything happen to her on his watch, whether she wanted protection or not.