Maya's POV
I ran.
My feet hit the pavement hard as I sprinted away from Brian's office, my heart hammering so loud I could hear it in my ears. Behind me, the door banged open.
"Maya, wait!" Brian's voice cracked with desperation.
I didn't stop. Couldn't stop. My brother was mixed up with the same people who'd destroyed my life in Los Angeles. The same trafficking ring. The same monsters who'd put a knife in my ribs and a bullet through my career.
And now I'd walked straight into their territory like an idiot.
I reached my car, fumbled with the keys, my hands shaking so bad I dropped them. Come on, come on. I scooped them up and jammed the key into the door lock—my Honda was too old for automatic locks.
"Please!" Brian grabbed my arm.
I spun, instinct taking over. My fist connected with his jaw. He stumbled back, more shocked than hurt. Years of police training didn't just disappear because you lost your badge.
"Don't touch me," I said, breathing hard. "I trusted you. You're the only family I have left, and you're working with them?"
"It's not what you think—"
"Then what is it, Brian? Because that man in your office? I've seen his face in case files. He's connected to human trafficking. And that girl's photo—Emma Chen—she's not missing, is she? She's dead."
Brian's face crumpled. For a second, he looked like he might cry. "I can't explain. Not here. Not now. But you have to leave Crimson Bay. Tonight."
"Why? So you and your friends can keep doing whatever you're doing?"
"So you don't end up like Emma!" His voice was raw, broken. "Please, Maya. I'm trying to protect you. Leave town and don't look back."
"I stopped running when Marcus tried to kill me," I said quietly. "I'm not starting again."
I got in my car and drove away. In the rearview mirror, I watched Brian standing in the parking lot, looking like I'd just ripped his heart out.
Good. Now he knew how it felt.
I drove aimlessly for twenty minutes, my mind spinning. What was I supposed to do? Drive back to Los Angeles with my tail between my legs? Call the cops? The cops here were probably involved too, if that badge on the desk meant anything.
I pulled over at a gas station and gripped the steering wheel, trying to think like a detective instead of a scared woman who'd just lost her brother.
Facts: Brian was involved with dangerous people. Emma Chen was missing—probably dead. The same criminal network from LA had roots here in Crimson Bay. And I'd just announced my presence by showing up at Brian's office.
Smart, Maya. Real smart.
My phone buzzed. That same unknown number from earlier. Carmen Chen.
"I told you," she said when I answered. "Forty-eight hours before you stumbled into the middle of it. You're early."
"Who are you? What do you know about Emma Chen?"
"She's my granddaughter. And I know she's dead, even though the police keep telling me she's just a runaway. I know this town killed her. And I know you're the only person who might actually give a damn about finding out why."
My throat tightened. "I'm not a cop anymore."
"No. You're better than a cop. You're someone who paid the price for telling the truth. That makes you the most dangerous person in Crimson Bay right now—dangerous to the people who want to keep lying."
"Your granddaughter... I'm sorry."
"Don't be sorry. Be angry. Emma was seventeen years old. She was smart and kind and she wanted to save the world. Instead, the world killed her. Are you going to help me find out who did it, or are you going to run?"
I closed my eyes. Every smart bone in my body screamed to run. But I'd seen Emma's photo. Bright smile. Whole life ahead of her.
Just like the girls Marcus trafficked. The ones I couldn't save because no one believed me.
"I need a place to stay," I said. "Somewhere cheap where I won't attract attention."
Carmen gave me an address. "It's not pretty, but it's safe. We'll talk tomorrow."
The apartment was above a bait shop on the edge of town. It smelled like fish and old wood, and the mattress sagged in the middle, but it had a lock on the door and a view of the ocean. I'd lived in worse.
I unpacked my essentials—clothes, laptop, the burner phone I'd bought after leaving LA, and the handgun I wasn't supposed to have anymore. Ex-cops weren't supposed to keep their weapons. But I'd kept mine anyway, hidden in a lockbox under a fake name.
After three months of jumping at shadows, I needed something between me and the nightmares.
I tried to sleep but couldn't. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Emma's photo. Saw Brian's terrified face. Saw Marcus smiling as he stabbed me.
At dawn, I gave up and went for a walk.
Crimson Bay looked even more perfect in the morning light. Joggers ran past with their dogs. A woman watered flowers outside a bakery. Two old men sat on a bench, drinking coffee and watching the waves.
Normal. Safe. Beautiful.
Except nothing felt right.
I stopped at a coffee shop called "The Daily Grind." A young barista with pink hair smiled too brightly when I walked in.
"Good morning! You're new in town!"
Not a question. A statement.
"Just passing through," I said carefully.
"Oh, everyone says that. Then they fall in love with Crimson Bay and never leave." Her smile never wavered, but something flickered in her eyes. Fear? Warning? "What can I get you?"
"Black coffee. Large."
While she made it, I noticed other customers glancing at me. An older couple in the corner whispered. A businessman at a table suddenly got very interested in his phone. The barista's hands shook slightly as she poured my coffee.
"Here you go." She slid it across the counter. "Fair warning—people talk in small towns. Word's probably already spread that Brian Reeves's sister showed up. Folks might be... curious."
"Curious how?"
Her smile finally cracked. She leaned in close, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Curious about whether you'll leave before something bad happens. Emma Chen asked too many questions. Now she's gone. Just... be careful what you're curious about."
Before I could respond, the door opened. A police officer walked in—older, silver hair, kind face, the word "CHIEF" embroidered on his uniform.
"Morning, Sarah," he said to the barista. Then his eyes landed on me. "And you must be Maya Reeves. Welcome to Crimson Bay."
My stomach dropped. "How do you know my name?"
"Small town. Word travels fast." He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Your brother mentioned you might be visiting. I'm Chief Harris. Just wanted to introduce myself. Make sure you know we run a safe, friendly community here."
"I'm sure you do."
"In fact, it's so safe that we barely have any crime at all. No murders. No missing persons who don't turn up eventually. Just peace and quiet." His smile widened. "I'd hate for anyone to disturb that peace by stirring up trouble or spreading wild theories."
The threat was clear even though his voice stayed friendly.
"I'm just here to see family," I said.
"Good. Family's important. Brian's a good man. Does good work for the community. I'd hate to see him get caught up in anything... messy."
He bought his coffee and left. The moment the door closed, every person in the shop released a breath they'd been holding.
Sarah leaned across the counter again. "See what I mean? Be careful."
I took my coffee and walked out into the sunshine. On the surface, everything looked perfect. But underneath, I could feel it—the rot, the fear, the lies that everyone agreed to tell.
My phone buzzed. A text from an unknown number: "Stop asking questions or you'll join Emma."
I looked up and down the street. A dozen people were out, but no one was looking at me. No one was on their phone. Whoever sent it was watching from somewhere I couldn't see.
I deleted the text and kept walking, my cop brain cataloging everything. Which shops had cameras. Which alleys offered escape routes. Which faces appeared more than once.
Near the marina, I saw a memorial. Fresh flowers, candles, photos. I walked closer.
Emma Chen's face smiled at me from a dozen different pictures. "Forever in our hearts," read a sign. "Beloved daughter and sister."
My chest tightened. Seventeen years old.
"They said she jumped."
I turned. A teenage boy stood behind me, maybe sixteen, wearing a school sweatshirt. His eyes were red like he'd been crying.
"Who said that?" I asked gently.
"The police. They said Emma was depressed and jumped off the cliff near the cove. But that's garbage. Emma wasn't depressed. She was scared."
"Scared of what?"
He glanced around nervously. "I can't talk here. Meet me at the lighthouse tonight. Midnight. Come alone, or I won't show."
"Wait—"
But he was already walking away, hands jammed in his pockets, shoulders hunched.
I looked back at Emma's photos. Bright smile. Bright future. Dead at seventeen because she was scared of something.
Or someone.
My phone rang. Brian's number.
"Maya, please," he said when I answered. "Pack your car and leave. Right now. Before—"
The line went dead.
Not disconnected. Dead. Like someone had taken the phone from him mid-sentence.
I tried calling back. Straight to voicemail.
A new text arrived from Brian's number: "Your brother says hello. He'll keep saying hello as long as you behave. Ask about Emma again, and he stops talking permanently."
My hands started shaking.
They had Brian.