Page 15 of Forest Reed (Seals on Fraiser Mountain #8)

Zoe

The flames at Mirror Lake hissed like they were mocking us, reflections dancing on the water as deputies scrambled down the ridge. Sirens wailed somewhere far behind, carried thin by the wind. Smoke stung my nose, bitter with burned metal and rubber.

Lane was already on the scene, boots hitting the dirt like thunder. She tore off her headset and went straight for me, eyes blazing.

“Are you out of your mind?” she snapped, grabbing my arm and yanking me around like we were twelve again.

“You came up here chasing a ghost, and now I’ve got burned-out vans, half a dozen suspects trussed in nets, and a lakefront crime scene that looks like a war zone! There are at least four dead men.”

I winced. “Technically, the nets were our idea. You should thank me.”

Lane’s eyes narrowed. “Thank you? Zoe, I am this close to cuffing you myself.”

Jason appeared behind her, calm as always, one hand brushing her back in silent support. His gaze flicked from me to Forest, assessing, sharp. He bent and kissed my cheek. “She’s alive,” he said evenly. “That counts for something.”

“That counts for reckless,” Lane shot back. “You’re not even mountain jurisdiction, Zoe! This is my county. I want you to stop going after this guy, you don’t know how dangerous he is, I do.”

Sometimes Lane reminds me that she was an FBI agent before she married Jason. I folded my arms, refusing to shrink. “North’s crew isn’t just mountain business, Lane. They’re bleeding into the city, into my cases. Harris is connected. I can’t just hand this off.”

Lane’s jaw clenched. Her voice dropped, low and raw. “You’re my sister. You think I want to bag your body on my mountain?”

The words hit harder than the gunfire had. For a beat, I didn’t know what to say. I glanced at Forest, steady and silent at my side, his presence anchoring me even as Lane’s fury cracked my ribs.

Jason stepped in, voice gentle but firm. “She’s not wrong, Zoe. North isn’t just a name. He’s a machine. If you’re going after him, you need to know he plays longer and dirtier than anyone you’ve dealt with.” His eyes shifted to Forest. “And if she ends up in the ground, that’s on you, too.”

Forest didn’t flinch. His voice was calm, even. “She won’t.”

Jason studied him for a long moment, like he was testing the weight of steel. Finally, he gave a small nod. Not of approval. Just acknowledgment. “The Team will be watching out for both of you and the mountain.”

Lane huffed out a breath, scrubbing a hand over her face. “Fine. But if you’re going after North, you do it with me. You do it smart. And you don’t keep me in the dark.”

I blinked. “Wait—you’re saying you’re in?”

“Don’t make me regret it,” she muttered, turning to bark orders at her deputies.

I exhaled, tension draining out of me. Forest’s hand brushed mine, quick, hidden, and I wanted to lean into him and not move for a week.

Then one of Lane’s deputies jogged over, holding a charred scrap of plastic bagged in evidence. “Sheriff! Pulled this from the wreckage.”

Lane held it up. I squinted. Melted, blackened, but still visible: a wristband. Bright blue. The same as the one we’d found in the cache.

Numbers were stamped faintly along the inside. Coordinates.

My pulse spiked. “He left us a trail.”

Forest’s eyes met mine, dark and certain. “On purpose.”

Jason’s mouth tightened. “Then you’d better decide fast if you’re chasing him… or if you’re dancing to his tune.”

The smoke shifted, thick and acrid, and I knew Jason was right. North wasn’t running.

He was leading.