Page 36 of Fierce Hope (Hope Landing: New Recruits #3)
Three long hours later, Deke tossed his poker chips onto the growing pile in front of Jade, shaking his head as Kenji let out an exaggerated groan. Across the table, Axel muttered something about hustlers while Zara leaned back in her chair, arms folded, watching the carnage with a smirk.
Ronan and Maya had smartly decamped for a romantic dinner out, while Izzy headed back to her house to spend some quality time with her daughter, and DJ.
The usual guilt sent a new spurt of acid through his stomach. Just another day or so, and he’d get back to wrestling this thing with DJ to the ground.
“She’s playing us,” Kenji said, squinting suspiciously at Jade. “She’s gotta be.”
Jade tilted her head, feigning innocence. “You said poker was about reading people. And probability.” She tapped her neatly stacked pile of winnings. “Statistically speaking, you all bluff way more than you should.”
Axel huffed. “Statistically speaking?”
She nodded. “You, for example, hesitate exactly three seconds when you have a weak hand. Kenji bets big when he’s got nothing, and Griff? Well … he scratches his nose when he’s sitting on gold.”
Griff, mid-nose scratch, froze, eyes wide. Kenji let out a strangled noise and threw down his cards. “Unbelievable.”
Deke sat back, arms crossed, watching Jade scoop up her latest haul. He shouldn’t be surprised. She’d been built for numbers, for seeing patterns. But watching her dismantle Knight Tactical’s best poker faces in under thirty minutes? That was something else entirely.
“Someone remind me to never play cards with Jade again,” he said dryly.
Jade grinned. “Afraid of losing?”
He exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. Afraid of losing something else entirely.
The thought barely had time to settle before his phone buzzed against the table. Silence fell instantly. Deke glanced at the screen, his chest tightening. Chief Frazer.
Jade’s playful smirk vanished. The team sat up straighter. Deke answered on speaker. “Williams. I’ve got Jade and the team here, chief. Okay if we talk on speaker?”
“Great idea,” the chief answered. “That way I only have to say this once.” Frazer didn’t waste time. “Got your search results. Good news and bad news.”
Deke’s gut tightened. All eyes were on the sounds coming from his phone, which lay flat on the table.
“The storage unit was empty.” Frazer’s voice was clipped, no-nonsense. “But forensics found trace evidence—currency residue, enough to tell us Wycoff was stashing a significant amount of cash there.”
Jade sat forward, arms crossed. “So he was moving dirty money.”
“Looks that way,” Frazer confirmed. “If he knew someone was coming after him, he might’ve tried to grab whatever he could and run.”
Deke exhaled through his nose. That fit. “What else?”
Frazer didn’t miss a beat. “Second find—big one. We recovered a burner phone from Wycoff’s home office.”
Zara shrugged. “Of course he had a burner.”
Frazer continued. “Thing is, it’s not just any burner. It’s a clone of his wife’s phone. He used it to conduct all his business with Chad Delgado.”
Jade inhaled sharply. “That’s how he covered his tracks. No record on his personal accounts.”
“But he sure threw his wife under the bus.” Kenji grimaced. “Ouch.”
“Exactly,” Frazer said. “And I think we know why he panicked about you, Jade. The storage facility sent the lease renewal to the church. The original address on file. Wycoff must have been alerted somehow. Thought you’d find it and start asking questions.
Anyway, I’m satisfied that this wraps things up for you all, anyway.
I’m gonna run. We’ve got a mountain of evidence to log. ” He hung up.
Silence followed. Heavy. Final.
Deke stared down at his phone. “Then that’s it. You’re safe.”
Jade hesitated. “Unless he had partners.”
Zara shook her head. “His is the only name that’s come up. He certainly had clients, though. I’m sure one of them realized he was running and killed him.”
Axel exhaled, rubbing his jaw. “And Jade’s got no intel that could harm them. No one’s coming after her now.”
Deke’s eyes locked on Jade’s. The tension in her shoulders, the way her fingers curled slightly against the table. She wanted to believe it. Needed to. But doubt clung to her like an old wound.
“It’s over,” he said quietly.
She let out a slow breath, nodding. “I guess it is.”
The weight in Deke’s chest should’ve lifted. It didn’t.
Across the table, Kenji, ever the opportunist, let out a loud sigh of relief. “So … does this mean we finally get to eat? Because I’m starving.”
Zara smirked. “You’re always starving.”
Kenji pointed at her. “This is a survival mechanism.”
The tension in the room finally cracked. Laughter—quiet but real—rippled through the team. But Deke barely heard it. His attention stayed on Jade.
She was too quiet. Too still.
He should say something. Something to keep her here just a little longer. Instead, she straightened her shoulders, collecting herself. Closing the chapter.
“Well,” she said, voice steady. “That’s that.”
The words hit harder than they should have.
Deke cleared his throat. “Ready for dinner?”
She shook her head, taking in the others. “I appreciate the offer, but I haven’t had a minute to myself in days.”
Kenji blew out a breath. “I hear you, woman. Go relax.”
Deke couldn’t let it go at that. “Where are you headed?”
Jade offered a small, wry smile. “Home.”
Home.
It shouldn’t have felt like a final word. Like a goodbye.
“Right.” He nodded once, keeping his voice neutral.
A beat of silence. The unspoken weight of everythingnot saidsettling between them.
Jade twisted her fingers together over her chest. “Thank you all so much. You’re wonderful. This has been …”
“It sure has,” Kenji cracked, giving her a wide smile. “We’d do it again in a second. I’m not sure about the poker part, though. We’re gonna have to start calling you Villanueva Slim.”
Jade smiled one last time, then turned and walked toward the stairs.
Deke watched her go, jaw tight. The words he should’ve said stuck in his throat, tangled with something uncomfortably close to regret.
And just like that, the case was closed.
And Jade was gone.