Page 33 of Fierce Hope (Hope Landing: New Recruits #3)

Jade sat in her car, staring through the windshield at the Starlight Diner.

The sky hung low and dark, spitting occasional flurries of snow that melted immediately on contact with her windshield.

The neon sign buzzed and flickered, missing the ‘R’ so it read “STA LIGHT.” A row of semi-trucks lined the far edge of the parking lot, their engines occasionally rumbling to life to keep heaters running.

“Testing, testing,” she whispered, feeling immediately foolish.

“Loud and clear.” Deke’s voice materialized in her ear, startlingly intimate. “We have eyes on you and the entrance. Griff’s inside, back corner booth. Axel’s in the lot. You’re covered from all angles.”

The warmth of his voice so close to her ear sent an unexpected shiver down her spine. She had to remind herself that this wasn’t a private conversation—Zara and Kenji were listening back at headquarters, monitoring the entire operation.

“I feel ridiculous,” she admitted. “I’m an accountant, not a secret agent.”

“You’ll do fine.” His voice softened. “Just be yourself. Ask questions. Listen. We’re right here if anything goes sideways.”

Jade took a deep breath, grabbed her purse, and stepped out into the cold morning air.

The walk across the parking lot felt both eternal and too quick.

With each step, she focused on the tangible details—the slick patches of ice on the asphalt, the jingle of the bell as she pulled open the glass door, the blast of warm air scented with bacon and coffee.

The diner was sparsely populated. She spotted Griff right away.

A few truckers hunched over plates of eggs and pancakes at the counter.

An elderly couple shared a newspaper in a booth near the window.

Two college-aged students with open laptops and empty coffee cups occupied another booth, textbooks spread between them.

And there, in a booth at the far side, sat Gillian Wycoff.

Even in a truck stop diner, Kent’s wife looked like she was heading to a country club brunch.

Her honey-blonde hair was perfectly styled, her makeup flawless if a bit heavy-handed.

She wore a cream cashmere sweater and what appeared to be designer jeans, accessorized with a scarf that probably cost more than Jade’s entire outfit. Diamond studs glittered in her ears.

But beneath the polished exterior, Jade noticed the signs of strain. Dark circles showed through thick concealer under Gillian’s eyes. Her manicured fingers fidgeted constantly with a napkin. And when she spotted Jade, her expression held more resignation than triumph.

“I knew it,” Gillian said as Jade slid into the booth across from her.

“Knew what?” Jade asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

Two coffee cups sat on the table, one clearly waiting for her. The vinyl booth squeaked as she settled in, the faux leather cold against the backs of her legs.

“The police are trying to say I hired that kid to scare you away from my husband,” Gillian said, stirring her coffee with precise movements. “Because they think you and Kent are having an affair.”

Jade’s mouth dropped open. “Are you serious? I would never?—”

Gillian waved away her protest. “I know. You’re way too pious. And you’re not his type. Not even close.”

Jade bit back a rude retort. As if she cared.

“Good pickup,” Deke murmured in her ear. “Watch her body language when she explains.”

“What makes you so sure?” Jade asked, wrapping her fingers around the warm coffee mug.

Gillian appeared to recognize the offense she’d caused. “That came out wrong. I didn’t mean—” She sighed, pushing her hair back. “I only meant you look way too intelligent to fall for a jerk like my husband. He prefers his women to fawn.”

The waitress approached—a woman in her fifties with faded red hair. She looked like her feet hurt. “What can I get you ladies?”

“Just toast for me,” Jade said.

“Same,” Gillian echoed.

As the waitress walked away, Gillian leaned forward. “Kent likes arm candy,” she said, her voice bitter. “Women who make him feel young and vital and in charge of everything. Women who’ll look up at him with adoring eyes and pretend his recycled lawyer jokes are hilarious.”

Jade studied the woman across from her. Behind the expensive clothes and careful makeup, Gillian Wycoff looked tired. Not just tired—worn down, as if life had truly given her lemons instead of lemonade.

Gillian took a sip of coffee. “I outgrew the role. Got older. Started having opinions. Sticking up for myself. Fatal mistake in a marriage like ours.”

“You’re doing great,” Deke encouraged in her ear, his voice steady and reassuring. “Keep her talking.”

“So if you know I’m not having an affair with your husband,” Jade said carefully, “why did you want to meet?”

The toast arrived, two plates with pads of butter sliding onto the table with a clatter. Jade watched as Gillian meticulously spread a thin layer of butter across the bread’s surface, her movements precise and controlled.

“Because the police think I hired this Chad Delgado person to harass you,” Gillian replied, not looking up from her task. “And I didn’t.”

“Do you even know him?” Jade asked, adding butter to her own toast and taking a small bite. It was slightly burnt, the butter not quite masking the charred flavor.

Gillian scoffed. “Never heard of him until the police accused me of texting him. I certainly didn’t hire him to do anything.”

“But someone did,” Jade pressed.

“Well, it wasn’t me.” Gillian glanced around the diner, then lowered her voice. “Though honestly, I’d be happy if Kent did run off with one of his little playmates.”

Jade nearly choked on her toast. “Then why are you still married to him?”

Gillian’s laugh held no humor. “The prenup. If I leave him, I get nothing. Twenty years of marriage, and I walk away with the clothes on my back.” She tapped her perfectly manicured nails against the tabletop. “But if he leaves me? Half of everything is mine.”

It was cold but logical—the same math many of her clients worked through during divorce consultations.

“Ask her why she’s telling you this,” Deke’s voice prompted in her ear.

Jade set down her toast. “Why are you telling me all this, Mrs. Wycoff?”

Something flickered in Gillian’s eyes—fear, Jade thought. She glanced toward the door, then the windows, as if checking for observers.

“Because Kent knows bad people,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “And if you end up dead, I have no intention of being set up for the crime.”

The general din of the diner—clinking silverware, murmured conversations, the sizzle of the grill—faded. “Why would I end up dead?”

“Get her to clarify,” Deke’s voice was sharper now, all traces of warmth gone. “What does she mean by ‘bad people’?”

Before Jade could relay the question, the bell over the door jingled. A group of truckers entered, their loud voices momentarily filling the space. Gillian used the distraction to lean closer.

“I know my husband. He’s hiding something,” she said. “Whatever it is, it’s big. He’s been making calls from our home office with the door locked. Meeting people I’ve never heard of. And he’s scared, which makes him dangerous.”

“How does this involve me?” Jade asked, her mouth suddenly dry.

Gillian shook her head. “I don’t know. But it started around the time you began working with the church finances.”

“Does he know we’re meeting?” Jade asked.

“Are you kidding?” Gillian’s eyes widened. “He thinks I’m at my Pilates class, followed by a hair appointment.”

“Stay calm,” Deke’s voice soothed in her ear. “You’re handling this perfectly. Ask about the storage unit.”

Jade took a sip of coffee to steady herself. “Do you know anything about a storage unit the church is leasing?”

A flash of confusion crossed Gillian’s face. “Storage unit? No, why?”

The genuine surprise in her expression suggested she wasn’t faking her ignorance. Jade filed the information away.

“Just something that came up in the church books,” she said vaguely. “Listen, Gillian, if you’re afraid of your husband, there are resources?—”

“I’m not afraid for me,” Gillian interrupted, glancing at her watch. “I’m afraid for anyone who gets in his way. Including you.” She reached for her purse. “I’ve already stayed too long. He sometimes checks my location from the GPS on my phone.”

“Wait,” Jade said. “You need to tell the police if you think he’s involved in something illegal.”

Gillian gave her a pitying look. “The man is one of the most respected attorneys in northern California. He plays golf with a state senator and two US congressmen. Who exactly do you think would believe me?”

She placed a twenty-dollar bill on the table. “Consider yourself warned, Ms. Villanueva. Whatever you found in those church books, it might be better to pretend you never saw it.”

With that, she slid out of the booth and walked briskly toward the exit, the bell jingling as she disappeared into the gray morning.

“Stay put,” Deke instructed. “Axel will be following her. I’m coming in.”

Jade sat frozen, staring at the half-eaten toast on her plate. Her heart pounded in her chest, and she found herself mentally reviewing everything she’d uncovered in the church records. What had she seen that could be worth killing over?

The vinyl seat across from her compressed as Deke slid into the booth. In his dark jeans and gray henley, he looked like any other diner patron, except for the intensity in his eyes and the barely noticeable earpiece.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice both in her ear and across the table, creating a strange echo.

She removed her own earpiece. “I think so. That was ... not what I expected.”

“Sounded like she was genuinely trying to warn you,” he agreed. “Kenji and Zara are doing deeper background checks on Kent right now. And we’re still planning to check that storage unit as soon as we leave here.”

“She seemed scared,” Jade said. “Not just for herself, but ...” She hesitated, remembering the look in Gillian’s eyes. “She really thinks I could be in danger.”

Deke’s expression hardened. “If Kent Wycoff is involved in something illegal, and he thinks you’ve discovered it, that puts you at risk.

” He raised his hands in a helpless gesture.

“Or she’s totally lying and she really did try to scare you away from her husband.

Only way we’ll know is to check out her husband. ”

The waitress appeared, eyebrows raised at the change in dining companions. “Coffee, hon?” she asked Deke.

“Please,” he nodded, then turned back to Jade as the waitress walked away. “I know this is a lot to process.”

“I’m an accountant,” Jade said, attempting a smile that felt wobbly. “I’m supposed to be sorting through paperwork, not receiving cryptic warnings in diners.”

Deke reached across the table, his hand covering hers briefly. “We’re going to figure this out. No one’s going to hurt you.”

The warmth of his hand was reassuring, but Jade couldn’t shake the chill that had settled into her bones. She’d spent years looking over her shoulder, waiting for her past to catch up with her. Now danger had found her anyway, through the most unexpected avenue.

“Griff’s getting the car,” Deke said, releasing her hand as the waitress returned with his coffee. “We’ll head to the storage facility next.”

As they left the diner and stepped into the cold morning air, Jade scanned the parking lot with new awareness. The dark sky, the idling trucks, the passing cars on the highway—any of them could hold a threat she hadn’t even known to watch for until today.

But Deke’s steady presence beside her as they walked to the waiting car made her feel safer than she had any right to feel. Whatever secrets Kent Wycoff was hiding, whatever connection they had to her, she wouldn’t face them alone.

For now, that would have to be enough.