“Paulie believes transfer is complete.”
She traced the southern road.
“He takes documents to whoever controls Costa Holdings.”
Sheriff Dalton nodded.
“We follow.”
Vincent smiled faintly.
Khloe looked at him.
“What?”
“You are terrifying.”
“Good.”
The trap took two days.
Khloe prepared false executed deeds with Elias supervising every detail.
They looked legitimate.
Were not.
A hidden mark identified each page.
Vincent made sure Paulie saw the signed folder on the desk.
Then left it unattended.
At least apparently.
Paulie took it before midnight.
Sheriff Dalton followed.
Vincent followed farther behind.
Khloe was supposed to stay home.
She did not.
Of course she did not.
Vincent discovered her already in the second wagon with Samuel.
“You were told—”
Khloe folded her arms.
“Yes.”
“To stay.”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“No.”
Vincent stared.
Samuel looked away, smiling.
Vincent rubbed his face.
“When did my authority disappear?”
Khloe answered:
“Approximately when your bookkeeper discovered thirty-eight thousand missing.”
He almost laughed.
Then became serious.
“You stay in wagon.”
She nodded.
Vincent leaned closer.
“I mean it.”
“So do I.”
He kissed her forehead.
Quickly.
Then rode forward.
Khloe touched the place after he turned.
Samuel noticed.
She glared.
He said nothing.
Wise man.
Paulie rode south.
Not toward town.
Toward an abandoned sheep station near the old river road.
He entered.
Another horse stood outside.
Vincent stopped beneath cottonwoods.
Even at distance he recognized the horse.
Not the rider.
Men changed.
Horses less.
Black gelding.
White left sock.
Marco once favored that line.
Vincent’s chest tightened.
The door opened.
A man stepped out.
Older.
Lean.
Gray at the temples.
But unmistakable.
Marco Costa.
Alive.
Vincent forgot to breathe.
Twelve years collapsed.
Funeral without body.
Father sitting alone near the fireplace.
Mother’s photograph moved into Marco’s empty room.
Birthdays nobody mentioned.
Vincent’s hatred of winter rivers.
All of it built around a lie.
Marco took the folder from Paulie.
Opened it.
Smiled.
Sheriff Dalton whispered:
“Enough.”
Vincent shook his head.
“Wait.”
Marco looked at the signature.
Then laughed.
“You always said he’d sign whatever was put in front of him.”
Paulie smiled.
“Eventually.”
Vincent felt Khloe’s earlier words echo.
Trust is not stupidity.
Not until evidence and refusal.
Marco continued.
“Once filing clears, southern route is ours.”
“Ours?” Paulie asked.
Marco’s smile changed.
That word mattered.
Paulie noticed.
“So we agreed.”
“We agreed you’d be paid.”
Paulie stiffened.
“Half.”
“Half of what?”
“The company.”
Marco laughed.
From the wagon, Khloe heard faintly.
Samuel whispered:
“There.”
The betrayal inside the betrayal.
Paulie had stolen from Vincent for Marco.
Marco never intended to share.
Paulie stepped closer.
“You promised.”
Marco folded the deeds.
“Your problem is you still believe promises from Costa men.”