Page 27 of Fierce Hope (Hope Landing: New Recruits #3)
Deke tracked Jade through the grocery store’s produce section on Monday afternoon, maintaining what he told himself was a professional distance.
In reality, he was distracted by the domesticity of the moment—something he hadn’t experienced in .
.. years? Ever? Even his marriage had never featured mundane moments like this.
When he wasn’t on deployment, Karen insisted his downtime be filled with parties and social gatherings.
Lunches and brunches and dinners out. “Making up for lost time,” she’d say.
But it left them with zero time for day-to-day life together.
“Do you think DJ would eat this?” Jade asked, holding up a mango. “I was thinking of trying that grilled chicken recipe Kelli mentioned at the party.”
Deke swallowed against the unexpected warmth in his chest. It had been her idea to bring DJ over for dinner tonight. She felt he’d been away from his dad for too long. “He’d try it if you made it. Kid’s been eating everything in sight lately.”
“Growth spurt,” Jade nodded sagely, placing the mango in the cart beside ingredients he recognized as favorites from his own kitchen. He caught himself wondering what it would be like if this was real—not protection detail, but partnership.
“I still can’t believe you told Chantal that sharks say ‘nom nom nom’ when they eat,” Jade said, eyes dancing with amusement. “She’s going to be quoting you as a marine biologist expert for weeks.”
“Kenji started it,” Deke defended himself. “He’s the one who organized the mermaid-versus-shark water balloon battle.”
“Which was a stroke of genius. Those kids were ready to riot after the cake disaster.”
“Speaking of disasters, Izzy’s reporting frosting sightings on the Admiral’s?—”
His phone buzzed, Chief Frazer’s name lighting up the screen. He answered immediately, tension climbing his spine as Cory’s voice came through.
“Chad Delgado confessed.”
Deke’s hand tightened on the phone. “Outstanding. He still sticking with that ‘online hire’ story, or did he give up names?”
“That story lasted about ten seconds once we explained his options. You’re gonna want to sit down for the name.”
“I’m standing in the middle of a grocery store, Chief. Just tell me.”
“Gillian Wycoff.”
Deke froze, mentally cycling through what he knew about the name. “Wycoff ... as in Kent Wycoff’s wife? Church board member?”
Jade’s head snapped up, her eyes widening in shock.
“Copy that,” Frazer confirmed. “We picked her up an hour ago. Looks like they did begin their ‘business’ relationship through one of those task-for-hire services, but they started texting each other directly before the hit-and-run. Chad kept screen captures of all of it. She lawyered up immediately—not a word since her attorney showed up. But we don’t need her to talk with the evidence we have. ”
“She making bail?” Deke asked, his eyes meeting Jade’s concerned gaze.
“Most likely. Her lawyer’s hourly rate is unreal. My guess is she’ll be out within the hour. Delgado won’t be going anywhere, at least.”
Deke thanked him for the update, promising to check in later, and ended the call.
Jade stood motionless beside a display of avocados, her face pale. “That can’t be right. Gillian Wycoff? I barely know her.”
“No interaction beyond church services?”
Jade shook her head, absently picking up an avocado and testing its ripeness with practiced fingers. “We might have exchanged a few words at church functions. Her husband’s on the board ... but there’s been rumors they separated recently.”
She scrunched up her nose. “How would someone like Gillian Wycoff even know someone like Chad? From what Sarah said about him, he cobbles together part-time jobs. The Wycoff’s own lakefront property and jet to Hawaii every other weekend. They’re from completely different worlds.”
Deke guided their cart to a less crowded corner near the canned goods. Jade followed, her face troubled as she processed the information.
“Chief Frazer found texts between them on her phone,” he explained. “Whatever the connection, it’s real. The question is why.”
“I just can’t imagine ... wait.” Jade’s expression shifted. “Kent. Maybe it has something to do with her husband? He’s been supportive of the youth ministry funding. Could she be jealous or something?”
“Possible,” Deke acknowledged, though it felt thin. “People do irrational things during separations.”
“Still ...” Jade looked down at the avocado still clutched in her hand, seeming surprised to find it there. She placed it carefully in the cart. “It doesn’t make sense.”
From years of sensitive investigations, Deke recognized the look of someone who sensed a missing piece but couldn’t identify it. He felt it too—the nagging dissonance of a solution that checked all the boxes but still felt wrong somehow.
“What are you thinking?” he asked.
“I’m thinking someone’s finally answering for what happened, and I should be relieved.” She hesitated. “I am relieved. But ...”
“But it doesn’t feel finished,” he completed her thought.
“Exactly. And I can’t imagine what she’d be warning me away from. Neither she nor her husband have ever been clients. It makes no sense.” She pushed the cart forward again, moving mechanically through the motions of shopping while her mind clearly worked on the puzzle. “Is she in custody?”
“For now. With her resources, she’ll make bail quickly.”
Jade nodded, then suddenly stopped in the middle of the organic produce section. “Can we ...” she looked almost embarrassed, “can we pray? Right here?”
The request caught him off guard—not because it was unusual for Jade, but because he’d never been with someone who treated prayer as something so natural it could happen between selecting bell peppers and checking tomatoes for ripeness.
“Of course,” he said, feeling strangely honored by her inclusion.
She didn’t make a show of it—just closed her eyes briefly, her voice low. “Lord, thank you for guiding Chief Frazer to the truth. Thank you for keeping us safe. Please help us understand why this happened, and ...” she hesitated, “please guide us forward from here. Amen.”
“Amen,” Deke echoed, finding himself oddly moved by the simple prayer. When Jade opened her eyes, the connection between them felt both strengthened and more complicated.
An elderly woman pushing her cart past them smiled warmly. “You two make such a lovely couple,” she commented, clearly having assumed they were praying over their shared shopping.
Jade blushed but didn’t correct her. The moment hung between them, heavy with implications, until Deke broke the silence.
“I was thinking,” he said, returning to safer territory, “with Chad’s confession and Gillian’s arrest, technically the threat’s been contained.”
“Right,” Jade said, her tone carefully neutral as she selected a bunch of bananas. “I guess that means you can stand down from bodyguard duty.”
“I could,” he agreed, watching her profile. “But until we understand why she targeted you, I’d feel better staying close.”
The relief that flashed across her face before she could mask it told him everything he needed to know about her feelings on the matter.
“If you’re sure,” she said, focusing intently on examining a bell pepper. “I wouldn’t want to keep you from more important tasks.”
“Nothing more important at the moment,” he said, then quickly added, “professionally speaking.”
Jade smiled, a genuine expression that warmed her eyes.
“Well, in that case,” her tone shifted to teasing, “if you’re sticking close, you should know there’s a quarterly board meeting at church tomorrow night.
Three riveting hours of budget discussions, committee reports, and passionate debate about whether to replace the sanctuary carpet this fiscal year or next. ”
Deke groaned theatrically. “You fight dirty, Villanueva.”
“I’m just saying, if you’re committed to this protection detail ...” she trailed off, mischief dancing in her eyes.
“Fine,” he capitulated, surprised to find himself looking forward to even this dull event if it meant spending more time with her. “But you owe me.”
“Fair enough.” She pushed the cart toward the checkout, her shoulders lighter than he’d seen them in weeks. “I’ll make it up to you with that mango chicken.”
As they loaded groceries onto the conveyor belt, Deke studied her profile.
Something had shifted between them—an acknowledgment, perhaps, that whatever was happening had moved beyond professional obligation.
Yet he sensed her holding back, keeping some part of herself carefully guarded.
The same way she’d changed the subject when he’d probed too deeply about her past.
Everyone had secrets. He certainly did. But something told him Jade’s weighed on her more heavily than most—and that whatever she was protecting might be the very thing that kept her from fully letting him in.
For now, though, he was content with this moment of normalcy—groceries and teasing and the promise of dinner together. The complications could wait, at least until after the church board meeting.
He was pretty sure he could endure even budget discussions if it meant seeing Jade in her element, doing the work she loved. And maybe they’d figure out what Gillian Wycoff’s real motives were along the way.