Unwanted Blood (Harper) novel Chapter 22

Chapter 22

Chapter 22

Ryder’s POV

I sat in my car outside the complex with the engine off, waiting for Harpek to reply to my message.

I stared at the glowing text thread, waiting for the three dots to appear, for any indication that Harper was typing. Nothing. She was either too startled by what I had uncovered, or she was simply sitting in that new apartment, frozen, trying to process the weight of it.

I leaned my head back against the headrest and looked at the data summary on my dashboard screen. The telecom trace didn’t lie. The mobile account David Everly had dialed right before his heart failed was active, registered in Vancouver, and completely tied to Harper’s name.

But it wasn’t a recent activation. The registration date went back exactly five years.

Someone opened a phone account in Harper’s name five years ago.

Harper would have been thirteen. She was a kid still living in the house, with no money and let alone secretly opening an unlisted line halfway across the country. She hadn’t done it herself. Someone had done it for her, or in her name, using her identity like a shield years before she ever decided to run, which was worse.

The only person with both the access and the motive to do something like that quietly was Everly.

I picked up the phone and dialed the firm’s private investigator in Toronto. He answered on the second ring, his voice thick with sleep.

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“Wake up,” I said, cutting off his greeting. “Go back through Everly’s / personal bank statements. Look at the summer months. I want every minor transaction…cash withdrawals, convenience store receipts, prepaid phone cards. If he bought a SIM card or a burner under a corporate account, fmd the retail branch.”

“Ryder, it’s past two in the morning in Ontario,” he muttered, the rustle of sheets coming through the line. “How far back exactly?”

“Start five years and work forward.”

“Five years of micro-transactions takes time.”

“Then start now,” I said, and ended the call.

I dropped the phone back onto the leather seat and rubbed my temples.

The Westbrook name was sudden aggressive maneuvering. Marcus walking freely. Everly’s perfectly timed heart attack three days after making a call to a number registered to my sister. Each piece sitting right next to the others and still not connecting into anything I could use.

Whatever Everly had stored somewhere before he died was the thread. Pull it and everything else would follow. The problem was I didn’t know yet where to pull.

Before I could start the engine, the phone buzzed against the console at 2 a.m. The screen displayed Logan’s name.

I snapped it up. “Tell me you have something useful.”

“I already know about Marcus,” Logan’s voice came through, “And I know about Everly’s death. I’m telling you right now, Ryder, stop looking into it. Drop the trace.”

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My fingers tightened around the casing until the plastic groaned. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means exactly what I said,” Logan replied, his tone dropping. “Stop digging. This isn’t just about Marcus looking for a payday. This goes back to a transaction twenty years ago.

“What kind of deal?”

“What happened twenty years ago…there was an arrangement. I don’t know the full terms, but I know enough. If you keep digging into how Marcus got out or what Everly was holding, the fallout isn’t just going to hit the Westbrooks. You’re pulling at something that touches the whole Wilson family.”

The blood rose fast to my ears

“So that’s your solution? We just sit on our hands and do nothing? We let a convicted felon stalk Harper across Vancouver because our father’s old ledgers might get dirty?”

A long, suffocating silence stretched between us. The rain outside seemed to grow louder in the quiet.

“That’s not what I meant,” Logan said quietly, though the defensiveness in his voice gave him away. “I’m telling you to be careful.” There was a pause, then, “Westbrook goes deeper than you think. If this surfaces wrong, it doesn’t just hurt you.”

The line went dead before I could answer. I stared out the wet window, looking up at the dark facade of the building where Harper was staying. The third-floor window was completely black now. The lights were out.

Whatever arrangement Logan was talking about, someone had decided it was more important than our mother. I wasn’t going to sit with that

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quietly.

At exactly three in the morning, a heavy thud against the driver’s side window made my chest lock.

My hand moved to the toolbox before my brain caught up. Then I recognised the face in the glass.

It wasn’t Marcus. It was the boy from the market-Ethan. He was standing in the downpour without a jacket, his dark hair plastered to his forehead his face set in a hard expression.

I rolled the window down.

“How did you know I was here?”

“You’re the only car packed outside the community that hasn’t moved in six hours.” He leaned his forearm against the roof of the sedan, looking down at me. “Harper wants to find out who’s pulling Marcus’s strings. She asked me to help her track down some names through a contact I have.”

I didn’t answer, waiting for the catch.

“I have a cousin who handles private compliance out west,” Ethan continued, his eyes narrowing. “But I want to ask you first. Because before I start pulling strings that might blow up in her face, I need to know-just how much are you hiding from her?”

I looked at him through the narrow gap of the window. For the first time since I arrived in this city, I found myself admiring him. He wasn’t a member of our family, yet he was the first to stand by her side.

“A lot,” I said honestly, keeping my voice low. “Enough to change what she does next? But there are some things I can’t tell you yet. They’ll just

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make her a target faster.”

Ethan stared at me for a few seconds. Finally, he gave a short, tight nod “Then let me ask you the only question that matters right now. How do you plan to protect her? Not just tonight while you’re sitting in a rental car, but every day after this?”

I got out of the car.

I stepped out into the rain. We stood on the pavement and I looked up at the building.

“I’m staying in Vancouver. I’ve already instructed the office to route my daily logs here. I don’t leave until the matter with Marcus is settled permanently.”

“What if it doesn’t end?” Ethan asked, his jaw tightening. “What if Marcus is just the first one they send?”

I looked past his shoulder toward the eastern horizon, where the sky was just beginning to turn violet behind the fog. “Then I will stay here.”

Ethan let out a breath, his shoulders dropping slightly. “All right. I’ll bring Colton in. He’s better at ground-level work than either of us.”

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