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AS CASPER WADED back onto the familiar shore, the harsh waves receding like a reluctant tide, he sought refuge from his mother’s relentless tirade. Her voice, a symphony of frustration and fervor, was drowned out by his thoughts, primarily focused on her claims that “the system was fundamentally against Aaron.” After swiftly slipping away from the escalating drama, he retreated to the cleansing solace of his shower, letting the warm water wash away the day’s burdens.

Once invigorated, he dressed carefully, sliding into tailored slacks that felt smart and practical. He paired them with a crisp button-down shirt, the fabric cool against his skin, rolling the sleeves up to his elbows to embrace a more casual demeanor. Although he begrudgingly donned what he often referred to as his “monkey-suit clothes,” a lighthearted jab at the formalities he associated with such attire, he consciously decided to keep his combat boots—recognizing that sandals would stand out too starkly in a setting that expected a hint of sophistication. With this subtle yet significant wardrobe change, he aimed to balance his desire for comfort with the need to fit into the expected social norms of the day.

As he slid into the driver’s seat, the sound of his phone ringing pierced through the warm air. Glancing at the screen, he recognized the caller’s name immediately.

“Hey, Jesse,” he greeted, his words mingling with the engine’s growl as he started the Jeep. He felt the smooth rumble beneath him.

With a quick flick of his wrist, he adjusted the air conditioning, grateful for the cool rush of air that now circulated. The sun hung high in the sky, casting a golden hue over the coastline, and the heat of September clung relentlessly to the air. Wearing full-length slacks and a long-sleeved cotton shirt, he felt like he had stepped into a sauna, the fabric sticking to his skin despite the cuffs being rolled up to his elbows. Sweat beaded on his brow, but he brushed it away, determined to achieve his goal for the day.

“I wanted to see how things were progressing,” Jesse said.

Casper shifted in the Jeep’s driver’s seat, wishing he’d taken the EMT’s advice and acquired a donut for his wound. The seats had heated under the relentless sun, and he was careful not to burn his fingers on the steering wheel. Dust particles floated in the late afternoon light, creating a hazy atmosphere inside the vehicle.

“Thanks for reminding me that JD lived down here. He hooked me up with an attorney specializing in cases like ours, and he has committed his investigative support should we need it,” Casper replied, relief washing over him.

“Good. I also wanted to let you know that Romeo got the girl,” Jesse added, a hint of excitement in his tone.

Casper’s lips curled into a smile, his heart warming at the news. He hated missing that reunion, but he felt good knowing he had played a part in bringing them back together. “I’m glad to hear it.”

“I’ll let him elaborate further on the situation, but she’s relocating to Baltimore.”

He persistently feared Romeo might abandon his promising career and move closer to Daisy Mae, a relocation that seemed unthinkable. He couldn’t grasp why HIS men would choose to leave such a remarkable profession for a woman. The career was thrilling, filled with opportunities and achievements, and he couldn’t envision ever walking away from it, regardless of temptation.

“JD is exceptional at investigative work, showcasing a keen eye for detail and an impressive ability to connect the dots that others might overlook. However, don’t hesitate to ask if you require additional resources on the ground. With three teams at our disposal, one is particularly eager and ready to jump into action, just waiting for a task to tackle.”

Nettie’s security quickly flashed through his mind, but he instantly dismissed it. He reassured himself that the sheriff would adequately handle her safety concerns. This was not his responsibility, and he intended to keep it that way.

“Thanks, Jesse,” Casper said, slightly hesitant but resolved. As he ended the call, an odd weight settled on his shoulders. He shifted the vehicle into gear. Outside, he could see his mother sitting on the front porch, her expression pinched into a sour frown, eyes narrowed.

The thought lingered in his mind: why had he even considered protecting Nettie? She was the enemy in every way that mattered—a formidable opponent in his brother’s conflict. Yet, he couldn’t deny that he had no personal animosity toward her. He found himself secretly admiring her accomplishments. Her striking appearance often caught him off guard, an unexpected twist that made him uneasy.

But her involvement in her brother’s case set off alarm bells in his mind, making her irrevocably unacceptable. The conflict was apparent: his growing admiration tangled uncomfortably with his fierce loyalty to his side. This loyalty demanded that he see her as nothing more than a rival, one to defeat or dismiss.

As Casper pulled into the parking lot of the county courthouse, a looming structure that housed the sheriff’s office and various county officials, apprehension mixed with determination coursed through him. He parked his Jeep, taking a deep breath to steady his nerves as he mentally prepared himself for the impending confrontation.

His thoughts raced with the memories of past conversations, strategies, and approaches, all leading to this moment. He desperately wanted her to see things from his perspective, to join him in his quest for resolution. He needed to bring forth his best skills as a mediator, even though he knew deep down that his abilities paled compared to those of Nettie, the experienced arbitrator who had successfully navigated many conflicts. Still, he had to give it his all. This encounter could mean everything. He couldn’t afford to back down now.

As he stepped through the large, heavy doors of the building, a sheriff’s deputy approached him with a metal detector wand in hand, signaling an official search for any concealed weapons. The air was thick with tension, and Casper felt relieved that he had been smart enough not to bring a firearm, especially after the chaotic events that had unfolded earlier that day. His mind raced with thoughts of his brother, who might very well be out on bond if the sheriff’s department had conducted this precautionary search hours ago. Aaron could have been in a conference room, strategizing a defense with his attorney, instead of locked away in the unsettling confines of jail.

The realization gnawed at him; if only the deputies had been more vigilant, there could have been one less act of violence. It struck him as bizarre that the courthouse, which was supposed to uphold law and order, didn’t utilize the simplest security measures. Why was there no metal detector at the entrance? Given the potential risks associated with such a public space, it felt like an essential oversight that should have been addressed years ago.

As he continued to scan the elegant marble corridors, his eyes landed on a patch of the tile floor that had been cut. The edges were rough, and it was evident that a machine had once occupied that space, designed for security and protection—but it was now absent. The thought sent another wave of frustration through him.

The deputy seemed to read his mind as he contemplated the lack of security measures. With a slight nod toward the ground, he said, “Our machine is being replaced, but unfortunately, the old one broke down before the new one could be installed.” There was a hint of regret in his voice, but Casper couldn’t help but feel that a mere apology wouldn’t undo the consequences of their oversight.

“Where are you headed?” the deputy inquired, raising an eyebrow as he cleared Casper to pass through the courthouse entrance.

Casper hesitated, his hands sliding into his pockets as he nervously fiddled with the cold metal of his keys. “To ADA Broussard’s office,” he finally replied.

The deputy blocked his way, holding up a hand. “Hold on a sec. What’s your name?”

Casper could sense the scrutiny in the officer’s gaze. He knew the name he had in mind wouldn’t suffice to gain entry. With a resigned sigh, he replied, “Ash McNabb.”

The deputy quickly scanned a clipboard, finger skimming down a printed list Casper couldn’t make out from his angle. After a moment, he looked up, skepticism etched on his face. “You don’t have an appointment.”

Casper’s stomach dropped. He hadn’t anticipated that she would secure a meeting beforehand. “No, but I’m sure she’ll see me,” he asserted, though uncertainty gnawed at him. “I’m here to discuss a case.”

The deputy cocked his head, eyes narrowing suspiciously. “Are you an attorney? I don’t remember seeing you around the courthouse.”

It figured he’d encounter a Barnie Fife wannabe today—an overzealous officer eager to flex his authority. “No, I’m not an attorney,” Casper admitted, trying to maintain composure. “I’m a family member and here on behalf of counsel.”

With narrowed eyes, the deputy stated, “Let me check.” He picked up his radio, his voice authoritative as he called in for verification, the static crackling as he waited for a response.

Casper stood there, anxiety swirling within him. He expected Nettie to refuse his visit, so he’d gamed the system with a surprise attempt. Just as he was about to turn and leave in defeat, he caught the words filtering through the radio speaker: “Send him up.”

Relief washed over him, mingling with anticipation as he braced himself for what lay ahead.